Unexpected Gratitude

Because of a scheduling snafu last night, I found myself wandering aimlessly about in Mabank. I had some extra time to kill, and it seemed my car practically steered itself into the parking lot at the nursing home.

Hmmm, 7:30pm – is that too late to drop in and visit? The sign posted that visiting hours would end at 8pm, but I wondered if 7:30 would still be too late. But I felt compelled, I needed to go in.

I ventured in, meandering down the hallway towards Ma Felker’s room. Ma is a lovely little lady from church who has assumed the name of “Ma” for many of the folks in her life. A couple of weeks ago, she decided that it was time to move into the nursing home, as they could better care for her than her family. I admire her strength in making that difficult decision without burdening her family.

The walk down the hallway is always interesting. I passed several residents calling various greetings to me. And I do mean various! They always call out from their room, and I’m reminded that some of these people don’t have visitors like Ma Felker or our sweet Margaret Templin.

Ma was still awake, waiting on her evening medicine to be brought to her. Her pain was great, resulting from a fractured spine. But her countenance was brimming with gratitude. How can that be? She began counting her blessings as I sat there with her, listing the ways to me that she is grateful.

Her tiny little room seemed sparse to me. The little bit of space carved out in this nursing institution is so different from where she moved from. I looked around the room for personal effects. A vase with two roses, beginning to wither. Eye glasses and a hearing aid case. Her Bible - that faithful companion for what looked to be years. And that was all I saw.

My mind wandered to all the things she left behind. The little knick-knacks that make up a home, the pictures and furniture and household items that becomes the landscape of our life. What was it like for her to walk through her home one last time, knowing it might be her last? Did she take it all in, caressing with her eyes those items that she may never see again? Pieces of her life that hold memories of all the years past, these tokens of life lived and shared, did they evoke memories of both pain and joy?

And the item she carried out with her… Her Bible. Heading out into a new phase of life clutching the one thing that has sustained her through the years. Her Bible.

The squeeze on my hand brought me back to the present. I was the one with the wandering mind, not Ma. She was very much in the here and now – calling me out of my reverie to thank me for coming. She asked about Rick and the boys, commenting on how handsome they all are.

I told her we miss getting our hugs from her at church, seeing her in that pretty pink suit she wears. I promised to be back soon.

And as I walked away, I felt encouraged. How does that always happen? I go to encourage someone else, and I end up getting the better end of the deal!

I hope that I grow into a woman like Ma Felker. I hope I can count my blessings, no matter what the circumstance.

Rest in Peace, Fuzzy

Yes, Fuzzy was just another barn cat. One of the many, many barn cats we've had over the years.  Dad marches down to the barn daily to feed Fuzzy, Wuzzy and Junior.  He even warms their food up for the evening meal!

But I'm still sad about his untimely fate. I fret that his sister, Wuzzy, will be distraught when he doesn't come to dinner. Fuzzy was such a cute little kitten! And he grew up to be a beautiful cat.

 Rest in peace, sweet kitty. You will be missed.

Snow....the good and the bad

SNOW!  Lots of it, too!

It started yesterday, falling down in fat, wet flakes.

And today, we awoke to 8 inches in our backyard!

While I headed out to take pictures in the cemetery, Rick suited up to head out to the water company. All 400 homes on our water system  are without power....and water. Ugh. The good and the bad of a beautiful snowfall!

He's been out there all day, waiting on the electric company to restore power to the plants. While he waits, he's making the best of the time by fixing some line breaks while there is no water pressure.

But before he left, my hubby shoveled the walk for me. I think this was the first time in his life to have to shovel snow!  It reminded me of the 4 winters I survived Chicago...

                                  

The Park was beautiful with the snow glistening on our big, beautiful, 50 year old trees.

                                 

But I was hard pressed to really enjoy the beauty after seeing the toll that this snowfall took on these majestic oaks.  If you look closely in the picture below, you'll see a glimpse of some of the branches that were ripped off of these special trees. "Oaklawn" is not named "Oaklawn" for nothing, you know. So when something hurts our trees, it is especially painful to all of us!

I did, however, get a chance to take out my frustration on dad with a good old fashioned snowball fight.

And finally, here is a picture of our farmhouse. It's survived decades of winters... so I suppose it will survive one more. But I think I'm ready for warm weather now!

Whew!

Yep...you got it.

Audit is complete, and Oaklawn Memorial Park is numero uno!

I will sleep really well tonight.

Worn down

It's Tuesday, 12:30pm. I'm waiting on Rick to finish a customer phone call before we mosey over to lunch. Mother has "breakfast" waiting on us. YUM.

I'm feeling pretty worn down. We have concluded our "graveyard shift stake-outs" and are going to rely on the newly installed motion detector's to alert us of anything thing, human or otherwise, that crosses the boundary into our cemetery.

We didn't catch the thief, and I feel a bit disappointed in that. It would have been fun to nab the person that's been stealing from the dead!

My audit is tomorrow. I'm swamped. You know the saying, "When it rains, it pours."

It's true.

Rick's off the phone. I'm going to eat now.

Silence

Sometimes I just don't have anything to say.  This would be one of those times.

I had the most wonderful weekend (last weekend) with Mother. Sometime, I'll post pictures of our Mother-Daughter trip to Jefferson. But not now.

With the new year of 2010, the ownership transfer of Oaklawn Memorial Park has been completed. I have never felt more vulnerable and inadequate than I do today. As 100% stock-holder to this Cemetery (where we have 3,030 people buried) the buck does indeed stop here. Right at my doorstep. I can't defer to good ole dad anymore, except for advice and a hug.

And right now, for the first time in 52 years, our cemetery is the target of copper theft. Two nights this week, pathetic, heartless and selfish thieves have stolen vases from graves.

I'm sick to my stomach.  When making the calls to the families to inform them, I'm met with a variety of responses. Some are more upset than others. Thankfully, no-one has lashed out in anger at me.  But I feel hurt for those affected. And I feel angry, as if the bad guys broke into my own home and stole.

I wonder if Granddaddy ever considered this day when he founded Oaklawn Memorial Park in 1958.  I wonder what he would do about it if he were around today.

Preparations continue for our annual audit coming up. My attention is needing to focus on getting ready for that, but I can't seem to concentrate.

I think I'll just be silent for a while.