Having A Holly, Melancholy Christmas

Why the holidays are bittersweet for me


The 15th anniversary of Mama's death is approaching, and I find myself even more blue this season than I normally am.  Maybe it is the number of years causing me more melancholia than usual. Maybe it is just the events of this past year catching up with me.  Surgery, weight loss and the inevitable changes that happen as a result might make anyone feel a bit off-balance.  I've also been thinking about the unit of CPE I did in the first half of the year.  I spent a lot of time in the hospital dealing with the stresses and tragedies of other people, remembering other times when it was me and my family who were patients and caregivers.  And of course, my most intimate experience within my own family was with Mama at the end of her life.

She died very early in the wee hours on December 8, 1997.  What follows is a poem I wrote a few weeks after she died.



The World Still Turns

Somewhere between land of the living and domain of the dead
inside this room my world has ground to a screeching halt

A small space littered with soiled gauze, used syringes, bloody linen

Mama's broken, worn-out body

My battered soul in pieces
Beaten black and blue from
worrying, waiting, watching

This place has become my home

Weeks I've spent here
looking on
sickness slowly, meticulously
enveloping her in its cocoon
layer by layer suffocating us all

Her first night here she was terrified
I tried everything, nurses tried everything
the medicine they gave her for panic made her sick

The morning they needed to take blood
Stuck her twice and couldn't get her to bleed
The third time they couldn't get her to stop

Now she's taken no food in over a week

In that time every day the IV has had to be replaced
by angels of mercy who sit patiently at her bedside
and sweat trying to find a usable vein

"Help me, Honey."
"What can I do for you, Mama?"
"I don't know..."

She's been dreaming about Aunt Mary, calling out for Granny
They're both dead

Today her breathing has changed
her face has taken on the look of a corpse
a horrible smell now seeps into every corner of the room
it's coming from her

Old blood
the smell of death

Daddy insists on coming back here
to relieve me

I'm not going
Anywhere

He goes to sleep and I watch

Another breath
and another
and then nothing

her lips turn white
I know the next breath isn't coming

A wave of panic
nausea
alone-ness rises up in me

But not the relief that was supposed to come

I count two minutes on my watch and
go to find the nurse

"I think we're done here, but I
need you to make sure before
I wake Daddy up."

She looks in Mama's eyes
listens all over her chest
shakes her head

"She's gone."

It's 2:40 in the morning
Daddy stirs and asks what's happening
I tell him that it's over

Mama's gone

We cry
He says a prayer
We make phone calls and
gather our things to leave

I stay behind with her until
they tell me that I have to go

I step out into the hallway and
somehow put one foot in front of the other
the walk to my car seems to take forever this time

Inside that little room my world stopped
But out here in the cold hours before daybreak

I feel the chill of December air as it freezes the tears on my cheeks
I smell the aroma of bread from the bakery down the street
I notice the Christmas tree lights twinkling on downtown rooftops

A new day is coming
whether I want it to or not

Out here the world still turns

Somehow

I have to turn with it

Thank You For The World So Sweet...

Thank You for the food we eat

Thank You for the birds that sing

Thank You, Lord, for everything

It's a simple little childhood table grace that has been on my mind a great deal lately.  Sometimes simple prayers are the best ones, and sometimes they are the only kind we can muster.  My prayers this week have been very childlike indeed, often very brief and usually kind of desperate.

"Lord, please help..."

"Please protect..."

"Please grant us peace..."

"Thank You so much..."

Thanksgiving came with an abundance of family, fellowship and, of course, food.  The Hubs and I made it to lunch with a big contingent of my Mama's side of our family, with my beautiful and precious Aunt Ruby as the centerpiece.  My cousins, her kids, some of the grandkids, great-grandkids and even the great-great-grandbaby were there.  As far as the menu was concerned, I had safe food choices and enjoyed my lunch greatly.  Turkey is a great lean protein for weight loss patients if it is not dry, and the turkey we had was moist and flavorful.  

We visited there most of the day until it was time to mosey over to Bonus Brother's house for supper with that branch of family.  Dad, Bonus Mom, Bonus Brother and his family and some friends were in attendance, and we enjoyed a feast there as well, including freshly fried catfish (yes, I ate half a piece and yes, it was delicious!  And yes, I brought home some leftover catfish to enjoy, in small portions.)  Was a fried food in strict keeping with my food plan?  No.  But I kept my portion small and enjoyed what I ate.  

Thanksgiving came and went this year without a single bite of any kind of potato passing my lips, which is a minor miracle.  No cake or pie or cookies, either.  I had 4 yogurt-covered pretzels, but not all at the same time, and a very few bites of dressing.  So while I was not 100% adherent to my program, I am claiming a victory for the holiday because I managed to eat sensible amounts and didn't even really feel like I was missing much of anything.  I will advance to phase 4 diet in a week and a half, when I will be allowed starches in small quantities.  Thanksgiving was just practice!

Changes are coming in my extended family which have us all doing a lot of soul-searching and, for those of us who pray, a lot of praying.  The time has come for my Aunt Ruby to move to an assisted living facility.  She is 87 years of age, nearly blind from diabetes that has become brittle, and needs a walker to get around.  Her kids, my cousins, are sad that this decision needed to be made, but they've done their research and this is truly the best option they found.  My prayers are that peace and comfort will attend all of us, that God's protection will be strong where it is needed most, that Aunt Ruby finds friends, engagement and companionship in her new surroundings, and that the adjustment will be a smooth one.  

Every family has someone like Aunt Ruby...or at least, every family should have someone like Aunt Ruby.  She has always been the even-keel, placid soul who brought stability to everyone else.  I don't know how my Mama would have survived raising us without Aunt Ruby's calm influence!  When my brother was very little and fussy/colicky/crying and Mama was at her wits' end, she would ask Aunt Ruby what to do.  Aunt Ruby's solution was a simple one that always seemed to help:  give the baby a warm bath.  There was nothing magical about the bath, as it turned out, except that it helped calm Mama as much as it calmed the fussy baby, and they both ended up feeling a lot better.  For years and to this day, when I am stressed, upset or needing come peace, I often find it in the bathtub (sometimes with bubbles, a book or a beverage, non-alcoholic of course).  When we were little and Mama needed a break, we'd often load up in the car and "go to Aunt Ruby's for a glass of tea".  Mama and Aunt Ruby would have their tea and their talk, and we had time to play with our cousins and whichever other neighborhood kids happened to be around.  

For many years, Aunt Ruby was a plus-sized lady as well.  When she became diabetic, she managed her condition for years by controlling her diet, and lost a lot of weight in the process.  She told me once a long time ago, after her diabetes had begun to steal her eyesight, that she would starve herself before going to the doctor in hopes of getting a good checkup, then leave the doctor's office and go get a donut on the way home.  She said she would do differently if she could go back, if it could give her a few more years of decent vision.  She made most of my clothes when I was a kid, and lots of them even through my college years, including the red satin dress I wore for my senior voice recital.  She was an avid quilter as well, often spending hours around the quilting frames with Mama and Aunt Martha and "Mamaw" Allred, our next-door neighbor until I was almost 17 years old.  Those quilts grace many of our beds, surrounding us with love and memories.  And Aunt Ruby loved to read, often devouring books into the wee hours after her family had gone to sleep.  Diabetes gradually stole her eyesight and her ability to enjoy doing the things she loved the most.

Aunt Ruby is philosophical about the coming transition and trying to see it in a positive light, as we all are.  I've been very close to her all my life and we've talked about a lot of things over the years.  In her moments of deepest sorrow and heartbreak, when she lost Uncle John, when she has had her own health problems, as she has watched her siblings die one by one, when she has agonized over the troubles of her beloved children, her response has always been the same.  She has always said, "God will take care of me."  Since I learned that she will be moving to assisted living, the old hymns have been playing in my mind and heart...the ones that assure me that God will take care of us all, that we will understand it all by and by, that His eye is on the sparrow.  That Jesus cares.  

"Does Jesus care?  I know He cares.

His heart is touched with my grief.

When the days grow weary, the long nights dreary,

I know my Savior cares."

  

Wonderful Words Of Life

Why I Read The Bible


If I have not mentioned it before, I should state that I graduated with a music degree from a Christian college.  My college choir has long observed a tradition of awarding a graduating senior a very special gift every spring.  Seniors must meet certain criteria to be eligible for the award, and then a vote is taken to determine the recipient.  The award is known as the Choir Bible.  My senior year, the Choir Bible was presented to me at the annual spring picnic.  I cried tears of joy and gratitude as I accepted this meaningful gift, humbled and overwhelmed…and ashamed.

I felt ashamed because I was not much of a Bible reader.  I felt undeserving of such an honor because, at that point in my life, although I had been a Christian for years, the Bible was something I grabbed on my way out the door either to church or to one of my religion classes.  I knew that there were seniors in my choir who managed to have a personal quiet time and devotions every day and would have really benefited from a new Bible.  The irony of the situation was not lost on me.  I don’t know what made me think to do it, but I brought that Bible in the following week, requesting that my choir-mates sign it, and those signatures and notes mean more to me with every passing year.  I began my adult exploration of God’s Word with this Bible, and years ago when I worked in Christian radio, I wagged it to work with me every day, marking passages to use in my on-air devotions.  The cover got so shabby that I sent it to be re-bound a number of years ago.

Over the years, I have become much more of a Bible reader, generally reading through it yearly.  In 2010, I joined a Bible in 90 Days Challenge group on Facebook that my college roomie was doing, (the roomie who, during our college/dorm years, read her Bible daily, first thing in the morning, without fail) and since then I have read the Bible through twice yearly, doing the 90 Day Challenge from June through August and my regular daily reading through the rest of the year (knock wood and Lord willing I will finish this year’s chosen version as well!).  Long ago I discovered that there are many Bibles formatted to be read through in a year.  Some give daily sections of Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs, while others go straight through.  Some have a devotion included with each day’s reading.  In 2011, I read a chronological version which divides the text up into the order that the events occurred.  I enjoyed the new perspective of the chronological version a great deal and passed it along to Bonus Mom to read this year when she expressed interest in doing it.
 
I have learned that in about 15 minutes a day, I can read through the entire Bible in a year’s time.  And I have learned that it is the single most worthwhile investment of time I can make.  Over the years that I’ve been reading regularly, gradual differences have started to show up in my life.  I find that I am a much more peaceful person now, less twitchy and obsessive about a lot of the things that used to make me crazy.  I still spin my wheels from time to time, but way less than I used to.  My prayers are different as well, taking little moments more often just to speak to God and try to listen to Him.

I have always been a re-reader, going back to revisit books that I have loved, and it always seems like when I read something for a second (or third, or fourth…) time, I pick up details that I did not catch the previous time.  The Bible is like that, too, more than any other reading I have ever done.  Every time I go through it, I glean more bits of truth than I did the time before.  Maybe my life situation is different and now a verse comes alive in a new way.  Maybe I have experienced a loss or a joy that God speaks to in a fresh way through a familiar passage.  I understand much better now why the older people in my family reached for the Bible in times of sorrow, because I find myself following their lead.  When I need comfort, God has given it in His Word.

I need to make a few disclaimers here, because I am no goody-two-shoes and I don’t claim to be.  I know I’m a black-hearted varmint.  My Bible reading doesn’t make me any less of a varmint.  It makes me conscious of how blessed I am to love the God Who loved me first, and Who loves me still, in spite of my many faults and failings, forgiving me and giving me new chances, new mercies and new blessings without ceasing.

I have unbelieving friends, and I have believing friends who don’t read the Bible.  I don’t use my Bible to beat them over the head.  What I hope to learn from my Bible is how to love them better.    

Nobody Knows But Jesus

Sometimes I'm Up, Sometimes I'm Down


It has been an up-and-down week, another roller-coaster ride.  Tuesday, as I mentioned in my last post, was my 5-month surgery anniversary and I was able to have lunch with a wonderful longtime friend.  Definitely an up day.

Thursday after work I grabbed a quick meal and went to the first rehearsal with instruments for the premiere concert of a major new choral work being presented by the chorus I sing with.  It was a long day, but the rehearsal actually energized me.  Hearing the music for the first time with the orchestra and soloists made the work come alive in a whole new way for me.  "Chronicles of Blue and Gray" for chorus and orchestra is the first major choral work commemorating the Civil War.  It includes texts from Abraham Lincoln's speeches, the Emancipation Proclamation, Walt Whitman and a heartbreaking letter from a soldier to his wife.  It also includes a medley of spirituals, one of which I stole for the title of this post.  It seemed fitting for the week I experienced.

Friday, November 9, would have been Mama and Dad's 55th wedding anniversary.  I thought about the last anniversary Mama was here for, their 40th, all day long.  We celebrated their 40th in the hospital where Mama had been for a couple of weeks.  It was a Sunday, and very cold as I remember.  Aunt Helen was in town and came by the hospital to visit with Mama.  There are a lot of things about the day that I just don't seem to be able to remember any more.  My parents exchanged gifts there in that little hospital room, gifts that they had chosen and I had gone to pick up for them.  The 40th is the ruby anniversary.  I now own the gold and channel-set ruby heart pendant that Mama put on that day.  I wear it often.  The Hubs gave me an emerald one just like it the following Valentine's Day, since emerald is my birthstone.  I've been known to wear them together sometimes, especially around Christmas.  The red and green are so pretty.

The Cramp Fairy decided to visit me on Friday as well.  Talk about kicking a Diva when she's down!  I was already weepy and withdrawn, remembering Mama in the hospital and missing her more than usual.  Once again I experienced a minor weight plateau prior to the Cramp Fairy's arrival, and once again I seem to have broken through it.  Maybe it's good that I entered the Hormone Zone on a day when I was feeling sad anyway.  At least it didn't ruin a wonderful mood.

Yesterday, November 10, was the world premiere performance of  "Chronicles of Blue and Gray", and I have to say, I think it was a triumph on every level.  We performed attentively and energetically, to a packed house filled with a very appreciative audience.  This work was commissioned by our chorus in honor of our esteemed conductor and artistic director, who also happens to be one of my choir directors from college, a longtime friend and now, a fellow weight loss surgery patient.  He had his operation last December, about 5 1/2 months before I had mine.  He has been a constant source of encouragement to me, both before and after surgery, and watching his progress has been an inspiration.  At chorus practice one evening last spring, before I had undergone surgery, I approached him during a break with a personal question, saying that it was none of my business and if he didn't want to answer me, that was fine.  He smiled and patted me on the shoulder and said, "Don't you know there's nothing you can't ask me?"  It's a moment I'll always remember and treasure.  So often we don't realize how important those seemingly small kindnesses can be.

At last year's fall concert, when he and I both knew we were each planning surgery, but not many other people knew, we posed backstage for a  picture together, one that I now refer to as The Before Picture.  It was a good photograph, big smiles and pleasant expressions.  We were just both a lot larger.  Last night before the concert started, we posed for The After Picture.  I printed and Facebooked them today, and the difference is definitely profound, especially in his case.  He's ahead of me on the path and a lot closer to his goal weight, but there is a noticeable difference in my size as well.  Between the two of us we have lost in the neighborhood of 250 pounds.

So the emotional course of the week has definitely been up and down.  I am thankful for so many things...memories of Mama, even the ones from the hospital.  I am thankful for the gift of music in my life and the many people who share it.  I am thankful to have had people ahead of me on the weight loss surgery path to offer encouragement, guidance and concern.  I am thankful that when I am up or down, when nobody in the world seems able to understand, when I can't even put my feelings into words, the Lord knows.

"Nobody knows the trouble I've seen,
Nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen,
Glory Hallelujah!

Sometimes I'm up, sometimes I'm down,
Yes, my Lord.
Sometimes I'm almost to the ground,
Oh yes, Lord."  

Five Months Since Surgery

Election Day


Five months ago today I had my weight loss surgery.  It's hard to believe it's been so long, and yet so short, a time.  My total weight loss is 86 pounds, with 64 more to go until I reach goal weight.  Aside from a nagging headache today, I have felt great lately and I continue to notice improvements in how my joints feel and function.

Today I had several things on the agenda.  First and most fun, I met a longtime friend for lunch.  It had been several years since we had seen each other face to face, although we've been in touch through e-mail, texts and Facebook.  Our old favorite spot to meet was at a buffet restaurant, and that's where we met today as well.  Weight loss patients are generally warned about the possible dangers that await us at buffet places because of the chance we have to overstuff ourselves.  I am happy and relieved to report that I stayed with safe food choices (meat and beans) and I didn't overindulge.  We sat there for 2 hours talking, laughing and catching up on each other's lives.  I left the restaurant pleasantly filled, with both food and conversation.  My lunch companion told me that, not only could he get his arms all the way around me for a hug, but that he could  touch his elbows!  I never really thought about it before, but those are some of the nicest parts about getting smaller... tighter hugs and getting closer to people.

After lunch I went to the weight loss surgeon's to pick up vitamins and protein supplements, then to a local mall for some girly-makeup-type stuff I had run out of.  I haven't power-shopped in a long time, and I didn't today, either.  But I noticed how much easier it was to navigate the mall now that I take up less space.  I am still way large, but less large than I was before surgery.  My CPE peer group met one night last week for supper and one of my peers told me that my arms have become "stick-like".  That's OK by me!

In a couple of weeks I will go to get my first big labs done to check my nutrient levels and make sure I'm within desirable ranges prior to my 6-month post-op checkup.  I will admit that I am a little nervous about my labs and hoping everything will be OK with my bloodwork.  I feel good most of the time, so I hope that's an indication that my levels are all good.

After my other stops were done, I returned to my neighborhood polling place to vote.  It was encouraging to see a decent crowd there.  I gave thanks for the chance I have to cast my ballot.  I didn't even mind standing and waiting in line for the privilege of voting, partly because it didn't hurt my feet and legs to do so!  I don't know who is going to be President in the morning, but I know that I carried out my civic duty today.  In much the same way I approached weight loss surgery, I committed to give myself wholeheartedly to doing what I can do, and trusting God to do what I can't.