By 7:30 we were off to our local Lutheran church to hear an amazing group called Krystaal. From the Congo, through the fire of persecution and serving as refugees, they bring a message of forgiveness and hope.
They are back next week. Sunday night at 7:00 at our local Brethren in Christ church. Well worth a free will offering.
Another four weeks!
That’s what my friend informed me. My cold has gone on for two weeks as of tonight. My friend figures, with much the same symptoms, she is currently into her sixth week and still just getting away from the symptoms.
So, now, I’m bracing for such marvelous things as bronchitis, hacking cough and lack of energy.
On the bright side. She hasn’t died – yet!!
I was talking to my sister today.
Over the years she has cared for both my brother and my father as they were dying.
I told her about a friend who was “almost dead”. She laughed. Not very often we are willing to say that someone is “almost dead” – “failing”, maybe, “deteriorating”, perhaps, “almost dead”, too blunt! We then compared where that person’s life expectancy would be on a scale of 1-10. Nothing nice about a “1” which is way too close to being a zero!
We talked about how the hard part of dying for a patient is that visitors never want to talk about the dying. We discuss other events, and even skirt around the issue of death with euphemisms (a great word for words that are supposed to soften the blow of hard issues).
Wouldn’t it be nice to cry with those who want to cry? To hear about the worst part of the day when there are only days left? To even fly away into a fantasy world when reality sucks?
So, if you are visiting someone who is close to the edge (a nice euphemism for being “almost dead”), talk about it. They will appreciate you for it!
A variety of details combined to make this day memorable.
I was given the opportunity to accompany my wife to the eye doctor. In our case, that means driving an hour down the road, over the border and into Oyen, Alberta.
In the best of all worlds this was to have been a short trip – 3 1/2 hours at the most. The reason for my being there was to drive her home – drops used in the testing of her eyes meant she was sensitive to light.
I must admit, I was a bit grumpy. I had been tired on the way and even weaved a bit on the road. Not good!
Then, the eye wear sales pitch was a bit strong. While neither my wife or I wanted bold glasses, the fashion of the day (and the inclination of the salesclerk) were towards that end. We held our ground and left 3/4 of a thousand dollars cheaper (for eye wear and examination).
The road home went well until we heard a beep. And another. And the heat gauge plummeted to the top. After four or five attempts, turning off the car, driving slowly, watching the gauge, turning off the car and repeating once again, the Flaxcombe hill arrived. We coasted down to the bottom and glided in to the only gas station for miles around.
After putting in some antifreeze, we sat down for a cinnamon bun (great – baked that morning!). After a few minutes, and another examination of the engine, we headed up the other side of the Flaxcombe hill. At the top the gauge started to rise.
I turned the car off and coasted until we were slowly crawling along. By popping the clutch we started once again and the temperature gauge remained steady at a reasonable heat.
O, I forgot to mention that we removed the cardboard in front of the radiator when we got down the Flaxcombe hill. My guess is that this solved our overheating problem.
As we drove into town, I asked to be dropped off at our local heritage manor where a friend is fighting cancer. His pain patches have been increased, his sibling is trying to be brave but his composure belied his concern. I weep as I walk home.
As I returned home, I realized that life is seldom what we expect. But it is what God plans.