Stress Relieving Frog

 I've had an especially stressful last few days - and it's not going to end soon.  But then I don't need to tell you this because we're all in the hot soup right now.  And we're all trying some healthy and not so healthy ways of dealing with our days of stark terror with a little overlay of chronic sadness. 

I was seriously thinking I should seek out some professional help but it would take several hours to explain what all is currently going on in my life.  And in the end, another person can't fix it.  

But, I live in a nifty village of friends and family so, a couple of days ago,  I did share bit of it with my friend Trish.  And Dr. Trish knew just what I needed.  She told me a sweet, funny story and sent me sweet funny photos.  Trish lives in the woods. She's crazy smart and crazy artistic. 

She has a little tractor/pickup she calls "The Frog."  She told me about having visitors and how she'd taught one of the kids to drive the frog - and afterwards rewarded her with a Frog Driver's License.  

So, this morning, when Trish texted me to see how I'm doing, I replied:

I'm hanging in there.  But a VERY stressful week.  Wish I could get in my Frog and drive around the forest but I don't have a frog driver's license. 

So Trish sent me this "Official" driver's license.  It even has the star, enabling me to drive my Frog to Europe. 

I hope you are blessed with powerful friends like Trish. 

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Celebrating

Life is tough for all of us right now.  I try to intersperse the daily "we're all gonna die" narrative  with pockets of celebration.  Recently my grandson and his wife came by to give me the exciting news that they're expecting.  So we are now, along with all the stuff that daily smacks us in the gut,  anticipating this new tiny new person being formed by God.  This couple has wanted this blessing for a while so we who love them have prayed for this to happen.  The sweetest thing they told me was that both of their dads cried when they got the news.  

On Monday they learned the sex of their budding baby.  I had already warned them about how I did not care for gender reveal parties that sometimes cause major catastrophes so the night before last they came by for my own personal gender reveal party.  

There was a big "Popper" explosion of pink confetti but no firestorms in California were started by this reveal.  Life is good and life continues to move along in good as well as horrific ways in this time of Covid19. 

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Letting Go

 

Some folks (fortunately not my family) are a bit bossy about what I should be doing.  You need to eat more.  You need to move. You need to take it easy.   It doesn't bother me (much) because I know they care for me and want me to be safe. 

(Except for my neighbors who came by several times to ask me if I was ready to move.  They finally confessed that they wanted my condo!)

I want to be safe - but there are so many more things I want and need to enjoy my life.  We all need meaning and purpose and I'm blessed to still have that and to help others along the way.  

I was going through some old journals recently and ran across something I'd written in 2003.  My husband, Ken had been terminally ill for a few years but, and despite spending every other day hooked up to a dialysis machine, he still had meaning and purpose.  He also had a wife who was constantly trying to get him to eat properly.  When your kidneys shut down the only way toxins leave the body is through dialysis - and this is not a perfect system.  

Finally, after conferring with Ken's doctors I decided to throw in the towel (food nagging wise.)  Following is what I wrote in my journal on May, 13, 2003. 

I've decided to let Ken eat whatever he wants. 

Last night we were sitting at dinner.  Ken had asked for the mac & cheese he'd ordered the day before at Cracker Barrel.  Along with that he had roast beef, fish and mashed potatoes.   I watched him pile tartar sauce on his fish.  Then entertained myself by reading the label "350 msg of sodium per teaspoon."  Ken ate half of the jar.

At 11 am we picked him up from the dialysis center.  He was all shaky and barely able to get himself from the wheelchair to the car .  It's looking like it will take at least two of us going forward to load him in and out.  He has great difficulty breathing. 

But he managed to stagger into the kitchen in med afternoon to eat an entire jar of pickles!

Ken loved to eat.  He loved to overeat.  In his last few weeks he could no longer eat his crazy amount of crazy food but he still loved a special orange cake I used to bake.  It, too, was bad for him but now we were in cahoots.  So I made a big sheet cake every week, cut it into individual squares and put them in the freezer so he could have one whenever he wanted.  This gave both of us pleasure.

So how do I feel about abandoning my job as the food police knowing full well that what Ken was eating could be doing him harm? 

 I feel fine. Wish I'd done it sooner.  

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