Five Minute Friday — Imagine

Posted on May 31, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Here’s this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. You might remember the task is to write for five minutes on a specific prompt word. The initiative was started by Lisa-Jo Baker (http://lisajobaker.com/2013/05/five-minute-friday-imagine/) who thought about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take five minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

This week’s prompt is IMAGINE

The timer is set … so here goes. {clock starts now}

Close your eyes. Clear your mind. Take a deep breath. And imagine!

One of the advantages we have as human beings is the ability to use our imagination, to dream our dreams, to look beyond the now.

When Karen and I were first married, we had our dreams, but never in a million years would I – or she — have thought our journey would take the twists and turns it took. Who would have thought we would move 1,000 miles from friends and family? Who would have thought we would live in five different states? Who would have thought we would have had the experiences we experienced.

But we did, because we were able to use our imagination and look beyond our circumstances. We worked together and independently, supporting each other even when other gave up on us. It wasn’t always easy but it was always an adventure.

Just before she died, Karen and I talked at length about where we would retire. She … STOP

… chose Maine, even though neither of us had ever visited the state. She could imagine cool nights in summer and snuggling before a fire in the winter.

Well, we didn’t make it to Maine {although I hope to some day}, but it lived in the recesses of our mind. In fact, just this morning as I sat in the gazebo, I closed my eyes. I cleared my mind. I took a deep breath. And I imagined I was there … with my love.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: No married man can understand what the bachelor does with his money.

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A Little to the Right

Posted on May 30, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

I was sitting in the gazebo this morning, just taking in the fresh air. The birds were chirping and there was a muted din from the traffic. All of a sudden, my mind became clouded. Something was amiss in the gazebo.

I looked around and the furniture seemed cluttered. The path to the slider was somewhat blocked. The wicker rockers seemed off centered.

Now, this was serious because I do not have spatial sense in a room. I don’t move furniture. When coins fall out of my pocket in my recliner, I treat it more as a piggy bank. {I wonder how much is under there?} I’m quite happy sitting in the same place for … ever.

No, the re-arranger in the family was definitely Karen and I knew — I knew — she was not pleased with the arrangement of the furniture in the gazebo. And she was letting me know.

I can’t tell you the number of times I reached for a glass in the cupboard only to find the glasses were replaced by coffee mugs. Or the times I went to sit down only to find a chair in a different part of the room. I remember walking into the house and seriously thinking I was in the wrong one. It’s a good thing I’m not a drinker.

I learned early in my marriage to make sure there was enough cable to reach every corner of a room. I learned that the hard way when I had to call the cable company for “room adjustments.”

With the advent of HGTV, things got more … interesting. It wasn’t unusual for my dear wife to go dumpster diving {true, when our neighbors remodeled we ended up with all sorts of treasures they considered trash}. It was uncanny how she could convert a broken lamp into something functional.

And color! She certainly added color to my life. I was perfectly content with white walls. There is not one white wall in my house … and I have four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, breakfast nook, dining room, living room, at one time a reading room, hallways and an office. Each room is a different palette from bright yellow to rich cranberry to shades of green to mustard.

And she accessorized each room. A nautical motif in the bedroom with the waterbed … a wall border complementing the dining room {she even painted the backboard of the hutch to match the dining room wall … three times, once to see what it would look like, once for real with the same deep burgundy and a final softer, pinker burgundy to make it “pop”} … painting the oak kitchen cabinets white with new red hardware {she somehow also conned me — no carpenter — into sawing out the panels in the upper cabinets so she could pleat red and white gingham “curtains” framed by gold-painted chicken wire} … she convinced me to build a bookcase in the breakfast nook to hold her collection of cookbooks {did I mention I am NOT a carpenter?} … She had a wall of pictures of our milestones {our baby pictures, wedding, more current photos}, our children’s weddings, our grandchildren, our heritage {grandparents and other relatives}, some of her favorite pictures. She was proud of the religious plaques dedicated to our children which she meticulously placed behind the fireplace. She deftly blended antiques {like grandma’s chest} and treasured trash with our more contemporary furniture.

At any rate, this morning I found myself rearranging the furniture in the gazebo. I moved the slider and table to the right. I knew it still wasn’t right, so I moved it a little more to the right. I moved one of the rockers and the settee. I still think it needs some adjustment. The other rocker, I think, would look better closer to the entrance, but that would mean I will have to move the clip that holds her weekly cartoon.

Somehow, I know when I find that right combination, that right look, I’ll know. Karen will tell me.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: People forget how fast you did a job but they remember how well you did it.

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Back in the Gazebo

Posted on May 29, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Well, Karen is back in the gazebo. I finally got around to moving her off the faux fireplace mantle and into the bright sunshine and fresh air.

Actually, this year’s trip to the summer home was a little later than normal. I’ve been having enough trouble getting around myself with my back, let alone lugging her outside. Both my son and daughter-in-law are also having back problems.  The live-in grandkids are too young. But my 17 year old grandson came to visit … so I pressed him into moving duty.

Bottom line, Karen is back outside.

For those of you who don’t know the history, Karen and I {mostly Karen} dealt with most end of life issues while she was still with us. She picked out our urns — matching bronze side by side connected by interlocking circles — and we made pre-planning funeral arrangements. What we didn’t do was decide on a final resting place. Karen wanted me to pick a spot so the kids could ultimately visit if they so desired. I wasn’t willing to do anything so … permanent.

So, after she died, I made a special place for her on the mantel of our electric fireplace. And I purchased a gazebo {after a disaster trying to build one myself}, and each spring since, I move her outside. Each fall, she would return inside for the winter and so on.

The experience continues to be bittersweet. Memories sear my mind … both good and bad. I know she wasn’t particularly interested in resting on the mantle — she told me so many, many times — but I think she would have been pleased with the gazebo choice.

Each morning, I go either outside or into the living room to have my coffee and breakfast with Red. I still continue to share a cartoon. And I have laughed with her, cried with her and talked to her. She may not be with me in the flesh, but I sense her spirit — and her counsel — even after five years.

This is still her “home” so I’m comfortable with the decision I’ve made. If the kids or grandkids want to spend some time with her, she’s here. And when I’m gone, my ashes will rest next to her and I’ll leave the decision of where we permanently settle up to the kids.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: It works both ways.  A quitter never wins — and a winner never quits.

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Kids Will Be … Kids

Posted on May 25, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Kids — or in my case, grandkids — sure are amusing. Their spontaneity and imagination is amaaazing.

A couple of weeks ago, my resident grandkids spent the night at their Grandma’s. They had the next day off from school, but Grandma had to go to work. So she dropped them back home around 6:30 in the morning — with every one else in the house sound asleep.

That doesn’t bother me. If I’m asleep, the house could explode around me and I wouldn’t wake up {unless I hear birds chirping, but that’s a different story}.

Apparently, however, grandson went into Mom and Dad’s room and woke them up.

My routine is generally to wake up around 7, make some coffee, and check my e-mails and Facebook. So I’m sitting in my recliner when Son and Grandson have a conversation in the hallway. “You woke us up for that?” was all I heard.

A little while later, Mom started reading Grandson the riot act about being awakened. I sort of smiled as I though about the times Karen and I had those same conversations with our five kids when we were awakened or, ah, interrupted.

Last summer when I visited my two grandsons in Massachusetts I had this conversation. It’s raining and we’re getting ready to go out for dinner. Timmy says, “You’re going to get wet” and I, of course, answer, “So.” He comes back with, “Old people like you can melt in the rain.”

timmyDuring that same trip, I had this conversation. I had a blood blister on my toe that had drained and was now peeling. Grandson Timmy says, “Why is you foot peeling?” Grandson DJ responds, “Grandpa is getting older and he’s decomposing faster.”

Of course, I can’t keep up with Ohio grandson Gavin in person, but his Mom keeps me entertained with interesting repartee like these. Mom: “Wash your face. Wash your hands. Brush your teeth.” Gavin: “My face isn’t dirty.” Mom: “Yes it is.” Gavin: “These are freckles. Let me tell you something … you get freckles when you get older. And I’m going to be 6!”

gavin2Or this, Gavin decided he would be a dog today. He happily followed Champ {their dog} around on all fours, laid on his tummy, rolled over to be scratched … the whole bit. Mom even caught him taking a break at the dog’s water dish {gross, her point, not mine} and said, “Gavin, get away from the dog’s dish!” To which he replied, “But I’m a dog. I mean – woof, woof-woof!”

It’s not just my grandkids. I went to the pharmacy the other day to pick up a prescription. A young mother came in with an obviously under-the-weather little girl in her arm and a little boy holding her hand. As I was signing the receipt, the little girl says, “Mommy. That’s Santa Claus.” Now I’ve heard that before … more than once with my rotund look, more sale than pepper hair and snow white full beard. I even had my reading glasses on when I turned around with a smile. Mom mouthed “I’m sorry,” but I played along and asked the little girl if she was being a good girl. She promptly told me her first, middle and last name {to Mom’s chagrin}, looked a Mom and said, “Yes, I am.” I told her to keep on being a good little girl and I would see her in December. End of story? No, the quiet five or six year old boy looked at his Mom and said, “Wait till I tell the kids at school I saw the real Santa Claus!”

But, back to the live-in grandkids. The wake up incident lingered all day and was a topic of discussion at the dinner table. The big question was why. I just figured Grandma may have been a little heavy with the sugar and light on sleep. Little Jay reached into his never-ending bag of excuses. He just wanted to pet the dog. He was just checking to see if they were sleeping. He wanted to let them know he was home.

The truth. He learned how to make a paper Ninja star.

I mean. How can you not laugh?

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: When your work speaks for itself, don’t interrupt.

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Five Minute Friday — View

Posted on May 24, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Here’s this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. You might remember the task is to write for five minutes on a specific prompt word. The initiative was started by Lisa-Jo Baker (http://lisajobaker.com/2013/05/five-minute-friday-view/) who thought about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take five minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

This week’s prompt is VIEW

The timer is set … so here goes. {clock starts now}

It’s amazing how your views evolve. Growing up in the 60s, we knew our parents didn’t know about the pressures we faced. Technology was so advanced back then, not like the dark ages of the 30s and 40s.

Then you get married and start having children of your own. Through the 80s and 90s we were told over and over how we didn’t understand the pressures our kids faced. Even today, our kids’ kids keep pointing out technology is so advanced — with added pressures — that their parents can’t possibly understand.

Along the way, our views are tempered. We realize our parents had pressures. We’ve seen first hand the pressure our kids faced and we — or at least I — don’t know how today’s youth cope with all the wanton nonsense going in the world and community.

We learned the world isn’t black and white but an ever-ending tapestry  of grays. And gray …STOP

… isn’t a bad color.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Include in your ups and downs — getting up in the morning and getting down to work.

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Wednesday Writing — The End

Posted on May 22, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

It’s Wednesday and I’ve been contributing so long to our story, I just sort of wound up here. Seriously, I wanted to bring the story full circle with an epilogue. And I have a request for anyone still reading. I’ll get to that later.

Here’s where we left off.

She was home … and we both were at peace…

Epilogue

Even though he was retired, Fr. Pat concelebrated Mom’s Mass of Christian Burial and offered the homily. An octogenarian himself, he knew Mom for over 25 years, first as a young priest in the parish and later returning as pastor.

During the homily, he looked straight at me. “Samantha, your Mom was so very proud of you. Every Sunday she would tell me ‘Sam did this’ or Sam did that.’ I watched you grow up, not only myself, but through the eyes of your mother. Even when you made questionable choices, it was your mother who defended you. She was behind you all the way from grade school, through high school and into college. She always told me what you were doing in Ohio and about your family. She may not have said it, but she loved you so very much.”

Normally, being singled out like that would have made me squirm. I may have even challenged some of those comments. But I sat with Mom over those last hours and I knew Fr. Pat was spot on. A smile appeared on my face and I looked over at the casket. I could almost see Mom smiling as well.

I found myself driving home alone on the dark black asphalt, seeming darker because of ominous clouds again on the horizon ranging from dark gray to puffs of white. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of white as the sun tried to peek out from behind the clouds. It didn’t succeed, but first a ray rained into the picture, followed by a halo of rays.

I remembered my conversations with the kids when we saw a similar canvas in the sky. They thought the light was heaven shining through.

I knew they were right.

The End.

There you go. That’s our story, for better or worse.

Now for my request. In addition to your thoughts about the story, the exercise and the outcome, I also need a title for the story. You can post them on the blog or you can e-mail me directly at revblt@rochester.rr.com.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. I’ve had fun.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Genius is seldom recognized for what it is — the capacity for hard work.

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Five Minute Friday — Song

Posted on May 17, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Here’s this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. You might remember the task is to write for five minutes on a specific prompt word. The initiative was started by Lisa-Jo Baker (http://lisajobaker.com/2013/05/five-minute-friday-song/) who thought about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take five minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

This week’s prompt is SONG

The timer is set … so here goes. {clock starts now}

As I read the prompt, my mind ferried back to the early 1990s and a song I had heard on an adult contemporary station in Washington, DC. I didn’t know the name of the tune or the group, but the haunting ballad resonated with me … encouraging me to hang on to my faith as the world seemed to crumble.

At dinner, I was telling the family about the song and how it really touched me. The kids knew right away. It was Show Me the Way by the rock group Styx.

thStyx? A rock group?

I didn’t listen to rock songs — even then my listening of choice was soft contemporary and Christian.

But it was indeed Styx. And it was indeed Show Me the Way.

It wasn’t a rock song. It was an anthem. It really touched my soul. It’s easy to slip into cynicism as things spiral out of control. This was centering …STOP

… Just goes to show, you can’t judge a book — or a song or an artist — by its outward appearance.

Every night I say a prayer in the hope that there’s a heaven
And every day I’m more confused as the saints turn into sinners
All the heroes and legends I knew as a child have fallen to idols of clay
And I feel this empty place inside so afraid that I’ve lost my faith …

Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away
Show me the way, show me the way
Give me the strength and the courage
To believe that I’ll get there someday
Show me the way …

Well, that’s what popped into this mind this week. By the way, the song hit the charts just about the time of shock and awe at the outset of the first Gulf War.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: It’s easier to do a job right than to explain why you didn’t.

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Mothers and Other Musings

Posted on May 16, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

For Mother’s Day I intended on posting a homily I gave a few years back. Instead, I spent the day flat on my back trying to get some relief from sciatic pain. As I’ve nursed myself back — holistically and through exercises — I’m finally at the point where I can sit long enough to do some work. But I figured the Mother’s Day post could wait until next year.

This morning, however, another inspiration from nature got me to thinking. And a couple of other events connected the dots. Here’s what happened…

As I was flying up the state highway [okay, not flying … maybe around 60ish] I noticed a bird in the middle of my driving lane. Now, that’s not all that unusual. There are always birds in the road, although most are scavengers. And they always get out of the way in plenty of time.

This little bird, however, did not. As I got closer and closer it just stayed in the road. I couldn’t have been more than two or three car lengths away [at 60ish] before it made its move. I was certain this bird would somehow end up a casualty.

As I got to the point where the bird was standing, I spotted a baby bird in the road. And when I didn’t hear any “thunk”, I checked my rear view mirror and discovered the sentry bird was not only alive and well … but flying back to its perch in the roadway.

I’m assuming it was a mama bird, standing watch over one of her babies.

It reminded me of Karen and my daughters and daughters-in-law. They could be hurt or angry with the shenanigans of their offspring, they could be yelling or screaming at them, but if one of their babies was in trouble, they were there.

I can’t speak for all mothers, of course, but at least in my experience, that’s a mother’s love … unconditional, forgiving, loving.

That’s where other events come into play.

In yesterday’s Wednesday writing segment [https://wisdomfromafather.com/2013/05/15/wednesday-writing-xxiii/] I wrapped up our community story with a devotional from Titus 2:3-5 … tell the older women … to teach what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be self-controlled, chaste, good managers of the household, kind, being submissive to their husbands, so that the word of God may not be discredited…

What do I read in my morning devotion?

Ron Hutchraft’s Word With You was about “The ‘I Love You’ At the Finish Line.” [http://www.hutchcraft.com/a-word-with-you/your-relationships/the-i-love-you-at-the-finish-line-6874?utm_campaign=be0a676b29-AWWY+6874&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Ron+Hutchcraft+Ministries%2C+Inc.&utm_term=0_0029706fc2-be0a676b29-285838458]. The devotional was about “wife-ing” actually, instructions to the older women in the church as to what they should, from their well of experience, train the younger women to be like.

Hmm. Coincidence?

I don’t think so.

Paul’s letter to Titus refers to the proverbial Proverbs 31 woman … who serves God with all of her heart, mind and soul … respects her husband … teaches her children the ways of her Father in heaven … cares for her body … serves her husband, her family, her friends and her neighbors with a gentle and loving spirit … seeks her husband’s approval before making purchases and spends money wisely … works willingly with her hands … is a homemaker … uses her time wisely … and is a woman of worth and beauty with the inner beauty that only comes from Christ.

There are those who think those are subservient traits. I don’t. The Proverbs 31 woman has confidence beyond comprehension. She has her priorities in line — God, family, others, self [note the order, men]. She is organized and a multi-tasker. As we say today, she feels good in her own skin. She seeks God’s will for her life and follows His ways. She is trustworthy and a helpmate to her husband. She nurtures her children with the love of Christ, disciplines them with care and wisdom and trains them in the way they should go. She uses hospitality to minister to those around her. She uses her creativity and sense of style to create beauty in her life and the lives of her loved ones.

Karen was a Proverbs 31 woman — long before the phrase became a Christian catchphrase. And she was the epitome of what Paul was talking about in his letter to Titus … teaching the next generation of women in her life.

I see my daughters and daughters-in-law hanging on to those words of wisdom as they teach their generation. I often hear them saying, “Mom would have …” or “I wish I could ask Mom …”

Way to go Casey!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: If you don’t have time to do it right, you may have to find time to do it over.

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Wednesday Writing XXIII

Posted on May 15, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

It’s Wednesday so let’s wrap up our story.

Here’s where we left off.

“Okay, Monday I’m calling Dr. Gibson. I need to know how you’re doing and what you’re being treated for,” I told her.

Sheepishly, she responded, “Whatever…”

Mother’s Day morning. In the early hours, I was reading my daily devotional which focused on Titus 2:3-5 … tell the older women … to teach what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be self-controlled, chaste, good managers of the household, kind, being submissive to their husbands, so that the word of God may not be discredited…

The scope of what the younger women need to learn cannot be communicated in words. It is action. It is an older woman who bakes beautifully, whose garden is spectacular. It is the kind of thing that faithful living communicates. It encourages younger women more than you can know – it gives hope towards the future, it gives ideas and inspiration for what kind of women we want to be. But it gives it in a way that is discreet, that encourages without pressuring. It gives it in a way that is not an invitation to complain about your life or fuss about your children. It is encouragement in the best way, encouragement by example…

As I was reading, I heard Mom call out, “Samantha Samantha!” so I immediately stopped and went across the hall to her room.

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“I just wanted to know you were still here. I don’t want to be alone. Can you sit with me?”

“Of course,” I said, reaching over to give her a kiss on the cheek with a “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Oh, Happy Mother’s Day to you dear.”

“Do you want some tea? Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”

“No, I just want you to sit with me.”

“Okay,” I responded, “but I am going to take your vitals. You look awfully pale.”

Her BP was still low and I could feel a lower temperature. I’ve seen the signs before. This wasn’t going to be a long journey.

We sat there, me holding her hand for minutes, although it felt like hours. She would drift in and out of sleep.

Suddenly, out of the blue, she patted my hand and said, “Sam, I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. I love you. I always have loved you.”

“Shh,” I said. “I know you’ve always loved me and I’ve always loved you.”

“But we never told each other, did we?” she said. “I’m sorry for that.”

“I am too,” I answered.

“Why not?” she asked. “Why weren’t we close? Why didn’t we ever talk about it before?”

I crinkled my nose and simply responded, “I don’t know.”

Mom, despite shallow breaths, said she wanted to make me strong and independent. “You had your Dad wrapped around your little finger and I had to be the mean Mom. I had to be the one to say no.”

“You weren’t mean,” I interjected. “But you could be hurtful, almost like my feelings didn’t matter. That’s what bothered me the most. I mean, I could get straight A’s and you would focus on my lone B. I didn’t think I was ever good enough for you,” I added, my eyes welling up. “But I always loved and respected you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she said. “I just tried to make you strong and independent.” She tried to smile, adding, “I think I was successful … maybe too successful. You’re the strongest, most independent woman I know. And that scared me.”

“I’m not that strong,” I said. “I’m not independent.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. You’re a survivor. That’s all a Mom could ask for.”

She drifted off again, so I got dressed, made some tea and warmed up a couple of muffins. I also called Dr. Gibson just to let him know what was going on. When he called back, all he could say was, “Keep her comfortable.”

As I walked back into her room, she half opened her eyes. She wanted no part of the muffin, but did drink some tea through a straw.

“I’m so tired,” she said. “But I do want you to just sit with me and talk to me. I feel we missed that over the years.”

“Of course. What do you want to talk about? Anything special?”

“How did you get through everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Putting up with me growing up. Burying …” she said, trying to remember “… your husband … uh”

“Chad…”

“Yes, Chad. I should have been there for you.”

“Mom, there was nothing you or anyone could do. I had to work through it myself. Taking care of the kids was a big help.”

“How are the kids doing? JR looks just like his Dad and Kate looks just like you.”

“They’re doing okay. You just saw them a couple of weeks ago at Dad’s funeral.”

“I know, but I didn’t really spend much time with them.”

“Well, JR always dreamed of following in his Dad’s footsteps, joined the Air Force ROTC program at Bowling Green and is now a commissioned officer. Unlike his father, though, he is a pilot,” I reported. “The deployments cost him his first marriage, but he and Heather had two girls, Rachel and Nancy. He’s doing more teaching than flying now and has remarried Bekah. They have a son, Chad III, and a daughter, Diana.

“Kate followed my nursing footsteps, although she was harder to get out of my nest. She went to Wright State but stayed at home until she got married to a fine young man, Al Macias, at age 26 and moved to Toledo. She, too, has two children, a boy John and a girl Kathi.”

Mom interrupted me. “Did Kate give you trouble like you gave me?”

I laughed. “No. She wasn’t as flirty as I was. But I was always a good girl. I may have pushed the envelope, but I set boundaries I wouldn’t cross. That’s because of you, Mom.”

I continued to tell her Kate was and is the “fixer.” “She spent a lot of time trying to take care of me. She would try to set me up with dates with her friend’s fathers or uncles.”

“What about you?” Mom asked. “Why didn’t you ever get remarried? Knowing how outgoing you were growing up, I thought for sure you would find someone else.”

“Never was really interested,” I said. “Chad and I had something so special, I knew it could never be replicated. I mean, I went out on a couple of dates, but it just wasn’t the same.”

“What about your neighbor?” she asked.

“George? He’s been just a very special friend. He lost his wife a couple months before Chad died. JR and his son Georgie were best friends, so George made sure he included JR in camping, Scouting and other activities. He helped me around the house and we often would accompany each other to events … not as dates, though. We’ve been special friends … wow … for 24 years.”

“What about Ber … Bet … Betsy?” Mom asked.

“You mean Bernie?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I was never sure whether she was a bad influence on you or you were a bad influence on her.”

“Bernie and I have been tight for ever!” She’s doing okay. Still lives here in Jersey and operate a hair salon. We talk all the time.” In fact we’ll probably get together before I head back.”

“Thank you,” Mom said. “This was nice. Just talking with you. Just having you here with me.”

“Yes, it was nice. Why don’t you rest a little. And remember, I love you.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “I love you, too, and I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

That was out last conversation. Shortly after noon, I felt Mom’s hand go limp in mine and I knew. It was over. I lifted her up and held her in my arms. She had a smile on her face, which put a smile on my crying face. She was home … and we both were at peace.

There you go. That’s our story, for better or worse.

I would like to hear your thoughts about the exercise and the outcome. You can post them on the blog or you can e-mail me directly at revblt@rochester.rr.com.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. I’ve had fun.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: An ounce of determination is worth far more than a ton of procrastination.

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Five Minute Friday — Comfort

Posted on May 10, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

Here’s this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. You might remember the task is to write for five minutes on a specific prompt word. The initiative was started by Lisa-Jo Baker (http://lisajobaker.com/2013/05/five-minute-friday-comfort/) who thought about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take five minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

This week’s prompt is COMFORT.

So, the timer is set … so here goes. {clock starts now}

I know this is Mother’s Day weekend, and writing about a mother’s comfort is the natural tendency. But I’m taking a different route. My sense of comfort came from my Dad.

Dad wasn’t flowery and huggy. In fact, I can’t remember more than a handful of times when he actually said “I love you” to me or others. Yet, he was my go-to guy when I needed comfort and/or guidance.

I broke my finger during what had been up to that time a successful final Little League season. The injury ended my “career” behind the plate. As we left the doctor’s office with my finger heavily bandaged and in a splint, my eyes welled, not because it hurt, but because my 12 year old world had just crashed and burned. He put his arm around me — an oddity in itself — and told me to be strong. This wasn’t the end, just another opportunity. In his own way, he taught me to face adversity not with self-pity but head on and look for ways to grow, perhaps in a different direction.

In retrospect, it wasn’t much of a pep talk and definitely not one of those proverbial father-son moments … but at the time, it brought some sense to a 12 year old.

When Karen was diagnosed with cancer, he was there. When she died, he was there. A well placed word or sentence, like 50 years prior, brought some sense to a senseless world. After all, he was a veteran, taking care of my Mom, his wife of over 50 years. He knew what I was going through. He lived it first.

That’s on a human level. Of course, there is a Fatherly connection with God as well. When life throws curves — as it always does — our God is there. We may not see it at the time, but we can feel His presence as we struggle. He gives us hope or brings a special person into our lives to show us the way. There are countless times in my life when I … STOP

… felt that presence first hand. These are the moments that give me comfort.

Well, that’s what popped into this mind this week.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Tackle your most difficult task first – and the others will seem easier.

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