Requiem for a Lifestyle

   When we moved from Chattanooga to St. Simons in 1995, we looked for a residence that was close to a golf course, and ideally right on one of the holes. We did not even want the course to. be separated from us by a lake, a road or a fence. We were picky..

   We found a great location, a home located on the 4th fairway of the Sea Palms West Course. Sea Palms is a 27 hole layout, with the West Course being the one separated from the other two nines by a major road. There was less play on the West, since the resort proper was located inside the other 18 holes, and thereby easier to just walk out the door and play.

   The first 10 years that we lived in that house I must have played those nine holes a couple of thousand times. It was great.

   When we came back from our three year sojourn in Virginia, we bought a condo adjacent, but not directly on the course. Again, walk out the condo garage, go across the street, begin on No. 5 and play around to No. 1, then keep going and finish on No. 4.

   Anytime family came, we could go out and hit a few. No worry about crowds. We could play 3 holes or 9, no matter. Supposedly we had to let carts from the other side play through, but there were very few of those.

   With water hazards on 8 of the 9 holes, we had an abundance of wildlife. Gators, turtles, herons, egrets, osprey, even owls. Deer tracks were numerous in the mornings in the traps.

   Then things began to change: The resort put their money into the other side, and the West suffered. Weeds grew up around the ponds, the sand traps were not kept up, the red-headed stepchild was forgotten for the most part.

   Then the word come out this year. Sea Palms was planning on abandoning the West Course. Their work schedule had showed their intention, but they made it official. They left the flags in the holes, and the tee boxes still sported markers for the different level of golfers. However, I imagine they will all be gone soon.

   Those of you who play golf and have to get in your car, drive to the course (sometimes miles away), have a tee time, put together a group to play, just can't know how nice it can be to:

   1.Decide to play a few holes...

   2. Walk down in the garage and get your clubs out of your cage...

   3. Walk across the street to a tee box...

   4. Play 3 holes or 9, whichever you have time for...

   5. Or just practice on the nearest green for a few minutes...

   6. If you happen to have a friend who lives in the same complex, and is willing to go anytime, that is even better...

   In short, it is what we referred to as "Paradise with a small p", and that set-up will be missed. It was a good lifestyle for golfers, maybe not so good for wives.

   Now we can still walk where the cart paths ran, we can hit balls out of the old fairway, and even try to putt on the old greens, but we moan all the way.

  What will happen to our "playground" we don't know yet, l but we will miss it, and we won't look forward to any development going in.

   Perhaps it might be turned into a park of sorts, or at least a green space with walking trails, but, alas, I fear land is too valuable here for that sort of amenity.

   I've had a twenty-year run of this kind of golf set-up, and I'm pleased it ran so long.

   But, if I ever get back to playing, I will sure miss it.

   Blessed for sure...

Hot Dog..A Visit

   When you don't get out too much, you miss the interactions with other folks. If they are not around where you live, or don't make a special trip to see you, they just don't show up in your life. Emails are no substitute, and even FaceTime or cell phones lack the personal touch of sitting down on a porch and just talking, laughing and reminiscing.

   That is true of family also, when the closest child is 5 or 6 hours away, and the farthest one a couple of days out there.

   That is why visits from from friends are always welcome.

   Yesterday, we had one…

   Bob and Brenda Cain have been friends from way back in the 70s in Chattanooga. Although they were younger than us, we shared many interests, and we had boys the same age. Doug, our third and Brent, their first, were in school together, and we were all in the same church.

   Bob and I played softball on the church squad, and later on we rode bikes together on some higher milage trips. We even rode Damascus, VA to Berea, KY on a multiple day trip with our wives driving the support vehicle.

      Even though they now live in Watkinsville, GA, near Athens, they were on vacation for a few days in north Florida and stopped on their way home yesterday to pay a call, even bringing some key lime pie to share.

   Of course we talked of all the mutual friends we had, especially those in the church home we shared for a bunch of years. We talked of the youth that Bob had worked with, and those that had interacted with our three kids over that time period.

   We spent a lot of time catching up on kids, all of them in both families, I think, now older than we adults were back when we palled around together.

   It was good to spend a couple of hours just remembering those good times.

   And I promise to write only good things about any of you out there who can still get on the road and visit St. Simons. Might even let you partake of my killer meat loaf if you stay overnight.

   The door is open for you.

   Come on, and maybe Bob and I will let you in on our next cycling adventure.

   We'd love to see more of you. Anytime...

Could Have Been A Tragedy, But...

   Over last weekend, Mayre and I had several conversations about our relationship with hospice care. She was not happy about the nurse visits and the invasion of privacy in her life. She continues to believe at times that she can do more than is actually possible. I sympathize with her, but know what she is able to do.

   All of this has led to some conflict in our lives and has tended to keep the caregiver stressed to some degree. It is hard to go against the wishes of one you love and yet continue to push for added care for her life (and mine too, actually).

   So we began this current week in a state of flux, in our conversations, and in my attempt to care for her.

   Then a new, what I choose to call, a tragedy came our way.

   Tuesday evening while getting her dressed for bed, I felt a sudden hurt in my lower abdomen. Again while I tried to get her in bed, it happened with more intensity. I figured I had done something wrong as I worked with her, and I could rest in the night and it would be gone by morning, or at least abated.

   But as I got up with her during the night, it was still there as I moved her around.

   Waking up in the morning, I dressed and walked next door to our neighbor (a nurse) and told her my problem. I did not feel I could get my wife out of bed and into the day without some help. She came over, and we accomplished the job, but she and I both knew I was going to have to see about this problem soon. The caregiver could not go down without a major impact on our arrangement of home care.

   As Joan (the next door neighbor nurse) and I stood and talked outside the condo door on the landing, the first of several miracles (spelled with a small "m") occurred. Down the landing, heading for her condo came our neighbor on the north side. Now she also has nurses training, and, after explaining why we were outside the condo, she said she did not have anything to do all day, and would be glad to help out in any way. This was good because Joan and her husband had their two small grandchildren staying with them, and that was a full time job for them.

   Leigh Ann, my second nurse of the day) would stay with Mayre when I left to go to my dermatology appt. to have some stitches taken out of a spot on my back where he had removed a basil cell.

   This was proving to be an interesting and eventful day indeed.

   During the morning, and after blessing my body with some food and Advil, I worked around with Mayre.

   And I called our Hospice Nurse, Kati, relating the situation to her for any advice from that front. She said I definitely needed to see about myself, telling me that she would be on call for us anytime she was needed her at the condo.

   Leigh Ann came at noon, the Advil had abated the pain, and I was functioning pretty well, so off I went to the dermatology appt. scheduled for 1pm.

   Getting to the doctor's office at ten till one, I checked in and sat down to wait. There in that place, the second of the miracles occurred. I was the only one in the office, and was back in my car after getting the stitches out by ten after one.

   Having had such a quick turnaround in completing the stitches removal, I decided to run by the wellness clinic (intermediate care) facility on the island, run by the hospital in Brunswick.

   Another miracle: I walked into the clinic. There was no one in the waiting room. After filling out the always-present paperwork, they called me back immediately. As the nurse took the vital signs and left the room, he said the doctor would be in in just a few minutes.

   About a minute or two later in walked Dr. Snow.

   Completing his examination, he said there was no major tear, but that I had probably pulled a muscle. That was good news. I did not need hernia surgery just at that time.

   In the time between 8am and 2pm that Wednesday, I had received the help of two nurses (plus Kati on the phone) and seen two doctors, having gotten a good report on the area on my back and the pain in my front.

   What was Mayre doing all this time?

   Two things really, at least in her mind. A feeling that she was responsible for my pain, and a knowledge that we did indeed need help.

   That was a breakthrough of sorts anyway.

   She welcomed the Hospice Nurse, Kati, when she made her visit on Thursday, and very willingly submitted herself to advice on getting stronger so she could function better on her own. She even smiled with her and told her thanks for helping care for her.

   This change of attitude made all of us feel better.

   I don't know how this will all work out, but I do feel that God put these folks in our lives at the right time, as they all gave their time to care for both of us and help us on the road that we are traveling.

    Could have been a painful disaster, but turned out to be what looks like a light for our way.

   Tune in again and see.

   PS: I should apologize for making all my recent blogs about caregiving, but it is what it is, and that is most everything I have on my mind right now.

   PS2: In June this year we will celebrate our 60th..we hope to make it a good one.

Why Can't This Be The Norm in Public Life?

   Sunday in the Golden Isles was not the typical "Chamber of Commerce" day. Overcast, sprinkles and definitely a "stay at home day". We did, but the day was not wasted, The Masters final round was there on the tube.



   As the pundits opened the telecast, four guys who know golf, sitting around a table talking about what they think will happen in that final round. All four agree that Rory McIlroy is their favorite to overcome the lead of Patrick Reed and take home the green jacket. We all know what happened to those projections.

   I watched most of the 5 hour telecast, to the end, and the end is what I want to talk about.

   I watched as Rory did not close the gap, indeed it widened, and he was out of contention He just never could get started.

   I watched as Jordan Spieth made a heroic charge, making up 9 shots on Reed, and even going even with him for a few minutes, before missing the last hole and finishing two back.

   I watched as Ricky Fowler slowly crept to within one shot of the lead and finished as the runner up to Reed.

   And I watched as Patrick Reed did just enough to overcome these and other challenges to win his first major golf title. That is not to downgrade his play. It is not easy to keep the lead with everyone else gunning for you. He made some big shots down the stretch to stay ahead of the field.

   But the memory for me was after the final putt had dropped on 18:

   As Reed was walking back to the scorers desk to sign his card, there was Ricky Fowler waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a big smile. There was genuine respect for the job Patrick had done for that 4 day tournament.

   Then there was Bubba Watson, a two-time Masters champion who had challenged and finished tied for 5th.

   I'm sure there were others, but I did not stay tuned for the final awards ceremony.

   The respect those golfers, ones who had tried hard to win themselves and fallen short, had for the winner was evident. Their faces and body language showed to me that this congratulatory outpouring was for real. They were happy for Patrick.



   I thought about what I see a lot of times on the TV, especially the news. Shouting at one another and a complete lack of civility seems the way of the whole world.

   I don't know the private lives of all these pro golfers, But I certainly do like the way they act toward each other in their public life on the course.

   Could we get them to teach the rest of us what respect and sincerity look like?

   How refreshing would that be on the evening news?

A Greeting and a Response

   All across the world this coming Sunday people will greet each other with the words "He Is Risen", and others who receive this holy greeting will respond "He Is Risen, Indeed".

   From the cross, on that long ago Good Friday, Jesus Christ pronounced the words, "It Is Finished", signifying the sin debt was paid for all men everywhere by his death at the hands of his enemies.

    When we contrast the bleakness of that Good Friday with the joy of Easter Sunday, we see a microcosm of mankind going from:

          Sadness to Joy

          Despair to Hope

          Death to Life

   Why do we say that Good Friday is Good? Without Friday we could not experience Sunday.

   Resurrection Sunday, The Empty Tomb, New Life Begins...

   If that Greeting and Response is your heartfelt condition, rejoice to affirm again, the truths of God and of His Love for All Men Everywhere.

   And if not, look within your heart to see why not.

   Don't be stuck in the sadness, despair and death of Friday, Sunday is coming.

   He Is Risen!

         YES

   He Is Risen, Indeed!

        Amen and Amen

Journeys, Short and Long

   I am in the middle of a book, one that traces the story of the author as he walks the old pilgrim walkway in Spain called the Camino de Santiago.

   Originally the Camino was a pilgrimage path ending at the Cathedral in the northern area of Spain. The distance a pilgrim walks depends on where he or she begins, but regardless for most, it is a pretty long way. For the author of this book the walk was around 1,000 miles.

   The historical symbolism of the walk shows a person, a pilgrim, seeking God and asking for direction in his or her life, but nowadays it is a mecca for hikers and others seeking an adventure.

   The author, who is a hiker looking for a long walk, shows no religious inclination for his walk, nevertheless does slide into several along the way. Probably his most important, to him, discovery is to not be so focused on getting to the end that you fail to live in the midst of your journey.

   Living in the doing of the journey, taking your time to see what is around you, who is around you, and the life that is happening while you are walking....these are his insights for himself.

   Life is filled with different journeys. We are moving on several at the same time, depending on the time element.

   The journey from birth to death is one that encompasses the entirety of our earthly lives, but many others come and go within that same time frame, several taking place at the same time. That life journey is always running in the background of whatever is going on in our lives at the moment.

   As you readers know, or should know, we, at this household, are on a health journey. It is seemingly the overriding one at this point, but I realize that, although it almost consumes our lives right now, it is only a part of the life journey that we are on.

   Some days, my ambition is to get to the end of the day, get my spouse in bed, and sit down and read and think and pray and....That is not good for either of us to have that goal in mind as the hours go by, sometimes slowly, in our day.

   I like it when I read in that pilgrimage book that there are times in our journeys that we need not to rush, but look for meaning and inspiration as we travel that road. I feel that is true, but sometimes the mind is just too filled with the tyranny of the urgent.

   Rushing to the end is not an option.

   God has called me to be the loving caregiver that He desires, and that is what I have pledged to do. Possibly I can look back down the road and see how it all fit together. I trust that this is so.

   Others have it so much tougher in life, I know that, but I still have the wish that it did not have to be this way for us. I miss a lot of the laughter, the fun times, the interaction over common events. We still have some, but....

   So, when you think of us, Pray and then pray some more. Not that it will rush to an end, but that we can both see that Jesus walks the road with us, and He cares.

   It is not what the road looks like, it is who we travel it with.

 

It Is Coming, I Know..

   As I get up this Monday morning, I see by the forecast that it is 59 with a high of 60 today, tonight will be around 40. It is also raining...

   BUT, from my day yesterday, I know the seasons are about to change.

   There was this rose in the area of the condo pool.

   The crepe myrtles were showing off their new leaves.

   Some, but not all, the azaleas were showing off.

   Even the wildlife were about enjoying their habitat.

   The current forecast calls for cool, but not cold weather for most of the week ahead, then warmer by the weekend.

   We had a pretty cold January (for us), and February was milder than usual. March was its unpredictable self, with a lot of wind.

   BUT, the times they are a'changin.

   God is coloring the landscape, and we are beneficiaries of His grace and beauty.

   Come On, Spring