I caught myself saying yesterday, "It doesn't feel like Christmas." I said this because of the balmy temperatures we are having in middle Tennessee this Christmas. At this time last year we were in a full fledged blizzard and Glen and I were on hold as my little sister was trying to fly into Chattanooga. We ended up picking her up in Knoxville and were grateful to have her in our possession even though the ride home during the storm was tricky. Once we reached the mountains the road disappeared all-together and we had to travel by God's grace and mercy and He did not fail us.
So I began thinking about what really makes it feel like Christmas. Is it the music and the shopping? Is it the decorations and the sweets? Maybe its the parties and the presents. Is it being around friends and family? I have to say, all these things are a part of what makes Christmas special but you really don't need all these things or any of any of them for that matter.
This year I put up fewer decorations, baked less goodies and have no family around for the holiday but my hubby. But when I entered God's House this morning, it felt like Christmas. God's Son is what makes it feel like Christmas but you need Him in your life to experience it. I hear the music in my heart and I see His awesome decorations everywhere I look. He has blessed me with so many precious gifts including the desire to give to others. He has blessed me with a wonderful family yet I am even more blessed to be His child. So do we need the cold and the snow to make it feel like Christmas. No, we just needed the Son of God coming to earth in the form of a Child. He came to be a sacrifice for our sins so that we could have eternal life. We only have to accept His perfectly free gift of salvation. So in the words of my favorite new Christmas song.....A Baby Changes Everything.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
God Wants To Hear You Sing
I love to sing. I was not gifted with a beautiful voice even though my parents sent me for voice lessons for a few years. Oh, there's probably a message in there somewhere. But what God did bless me with was the desire to sing, and the courage to do it in public. He gave me the ability to carry a tune and interpret a song. How I would love to have "the gift" of an angelic voice and the three octave range. But it is what it is and I have not let it stop me.
This time of year reminds me of my first public appearance. It was the church Christmas program and I was seven. They put a child's size card table and chair on the stage with a birthday cake on it. My dad was to carry me out to the table and then leave me there. I was to light the candles and then sing Happy Birthday to Jesus. My daddy practiced with me for weeks on lighting the candles. When I look back at it now I have to wonder, "What were they thinking?" I remember being more nervous about lighting those candles, then singing. The Saturday before at the practice, they decided to have the cake candles already lit. Good choice! I would sing a solo in the program every year after that till high school. That's when I was old enough to be in the adult choir. We had a wonderful choir and a very talented, funny director.
At Fairchild Hall, my special ed class put on two operettas. Hansel and Gretal and Amhal and the Midnight Visitors. Having a flair for the dramatic, I enjoyed performing in these two little productions for the rest of the school and friends and family.
In junior high I learned to sing alto in our school choir. This is where my strength was and I quickly learned how to read music and sing harmony. I would follow this path into high school.
My husband and I have been singing for the Lord now for almost 35 years. Now he does have a gifted, beautiful voice and I love being his doo wop singer. Many times I sing alone, but I love to pick out songs that touch my heart and are personal to me. The problem with that is, I get so caught up in the song that I can't help but cry. Crying and singing do not work together for me and the sobs caught in my throat usually are the winner. I heard someone sing the most beautiful song one Sunday and asked her, "How can you sing that song without breaking down?" She said she just sings and never thinks about the words. I was flabbergasted about that remark. The day I sing without thinking about the beautiful message in the words, I will quit. I would rather cry.
So as our choir takes the stage this Sunday to sing a very beautiful Christmas Cantata, I am so thankful for the opportunity to be a part of this group sharing the message of Christ's birth, because I know God wants to hear me sing and He wants to hear you too. What a wonderful way to praise and worship Him.
This time of year reminds me of my first public appearance. It was the church Christmas program and I was seven. They put a child's size card table and chair on the stage with a birthday cake on it. My dad was to carry me out to the table and then leave me there. I was to light the candles and then sing Happy Birthday to Jesus. My daddy practiced with me for weeks on lighting the candles. When I look back at it now I have to wonder, "What were they thinking?" I remember being more nervous about lighting those candles, then singing. The Saturday before at the practice, they decided to have the cake candles already lit. Good choice! I would sing a solo in the program every year after that till high school. That's when I was old enough to be in the adult choir. We had a wonderful choir and a very talented, funny director.
At Fairchild Hall, my special ed class put on two operettas. Hansel and Gretal and Amhal and the Midnight Visitors. Having a flair for the dramatic, I enjoyed performing in these two little productions for the rest of the school and friends and family.
In junior high I learned to sing alto in our school choir. This is where my strength was and I quickly learned how to read music and sing harmony. I would follow this path into high school.
My husband and I have been singing for the Lord now for almost 35 years. Now he does have a gifted, beautiful voice and I love being his doo wop singer. Many times I sing alone, but I love to pick out songs that touch my heart and are personal to me. The problem with that is, I get so caught up in the song that I can't help but cry. Crying and singing do not work together for me and the sobs caught in my throat usually are the winner. I heard someone sing the most beautiful song one Sunday and asked her, "How can you sing that song without breaking down?" She said she just sings and never thinks about the words. I was flabbergasted about that remark. The day I sing without thinking about the beautiful message in the words, I will quit. I would rather cry.
So as our choir takes the stage this Sunday to sing a very beautiful Christmas Cantata, I am so thankful for the opportunity to be a part of this group sharing the message of Christ's birth, because I know God wants to hear me sing and He wants to hear you too. What a wonderful way to praise and worship Him.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Once Upon A Time....
Princess Leanah was a shy, sweet and quiet, rather frail little three year old. Princess Cyndi was a strong, energetic, dramatic and sometimes a rather loud two year old. The two little girls loved to spend time together playing with their dolls or running with their older brothers (when they would allow it). Princess Cyndi, although younger, took care of her older cousin sensing her shy, quiet spirit.
Then one day a wicked curse came upon the kingdom and Princess Cyndi was struck with a terrible illness. She was taken away from her dear cousin and it was difficult for Princess Leanah to understand. Where had her Cyndi gone? Why wasn't she coming to run and play? The King and Queen of Keen tried to explain to their precious daughter that little Cyndi was very sick and was in the Royal Hospital but that she may never get to walk and run again.
It was difficult for this three year old to comprehend this explanation and all she really did know is that she missed her friend and cousin very much. Then on Christmas Day, after she had opened all her presents, the King and Queen told her they had a very special gift for her. Cyndi was sitting up and would be able to have visitors today. Princess Leanah was going to get to play with her cousin today. She could hardly wait.
When Princess Cyndi came home from the hospital Leanah began pulling her around in her red flyer coach wherever she wanted to go. She used her strong legs to pull her on a sled or push her on a tricycle.
Leanah couldn't bare to have her out of her sight. At one point they thought they should separate the two girls in Sunday School so Leanah would be more apt to concentrate on the lesson rather then Cyndi. But she threw such a fit, crying uncontrollably that her Cyndi might need her, that they had to put them back together. Leanah would even learn to pick her up when she fell. They did everything that all little girls do and they did it together.
These two little Princesses would grow to have Kingdoms of their own but one thing will always remain the same. They would always love each other and share the special bond of their childhood and they would both live happily ever after.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
The Piano Bench
By the forth grade, I had these braces and crutches pretty well mastered. No longer did I rip them off the minute I got home from school. Therefore, my braces were beginning to wear on the back of my leg. Back then, braces were made of steel covered with leather so I was down to bare steel. Consequently, I could easily scratch a chair when I sat in them. I had probably scratched many a church pew.
My forth grade year in school I was mainstreamed into a regular classroom. A little girl named Marcy reached out to me. She was an only child and we became wonderful friends. I would spend many nights at her home playing. I had a very special bond with her daddy. A child senses when they are loved and her parents truly loved me and I them. I remember her parents taking me to concerts, plays and programs at the college right along with Marcy. Her dad would carry me to and and from the car in the winter or when I got tired. It was then I noticed he walked with a limp. He shared with me that he had polio at the age of 10 and after 27 surgeries he could walk with a slight limp. That was the first time I realized that polio had many faces. Her daddy had a servant's heart and was always very thankful for what he had and for what God had done for him.
Marcy played the piano. Her grandmother had paid for her to take lessons from the time she was five. Her great grandmother had been putting away money from war bonds to buy Marcy and her mom a piano someday. Marcy's family had just moved into a beautiful house in town. It was the most beautiful house I think I had ever seen and even when I drive by it today, I still can see two little girls playing make believe inside with Marcy's little dog.
Little by little her parents were furnishing the house and Marcy's mom began to look for a used piano but she was reminded by her grandmother that there was money for a brand new piano. "Just go pick out whatever you want". So she picked out the most beautiful brown wood, high gloss piano she could find. A few days later I came for a visit and Marcy and I couldn't wait to sit at the piano.
Two years ago Marcy shared the "rest of the story" with me at our high school reunion. This is what she told me in her words: "After you went home Cyndi, mom came into the living room and saw scratches on the piano bench from your braces and she began to cry. My dad told her not to cry, that Cyndi didn't mean to do it. She said "Of course not but I don't know how to repair it and grandmother hasn't even seen it yet."
My daddy said "We are NOT going to fix the bench (as he loving touched the marks on the bench). Every time we look at it we will think of the joy and love that Cyndi brings. It will always remind us of her and it will always remind me of how fortunate I have been. I simply wish I could share my good fortune with her."
To this day the piano is proudly displayed in my parents living room. When mom plays she often looks down at the bench and smiles. I have often seen dad sit on the bench feeling the marks as he is talking."
I thanked Marcy for telling me that story with tears in my eyes. I try everyday to ask the Lord to help me be a blessing to others. Why? Because I have been so blessed to have so many people who have loved me along the way.
My forth grade year in school I was mainstreamed into a regular classroom. A little girl named Marcy reached out to me. She was an only child and we became wonderful friends. I would spend many nights at her home playing. I had a very special bond with her daddy. A child senses when they are loved and her parents truly loved me and I them. I remember her parents taking me to concerts, plays and programs at the college right along with Marcy. Her dad would carry me to and and from the car in the winter or when I got tired. It was then I noticed he walked with a limp. He shared with me that he had polio at the age of 10 and after 27 surgeries he could walk with a slight limp. That was the first time I realized that polio had many faces. Her daddy had a servant's heart and was always very thankful for what he had and for what God had done for him.
Marcy played the piano. Her grandmother had paid for her to take lessons from the time she was five. Her great grandmother had been putting away money from war bonds to buy Marcy and her mom a piano someday. Marcy's family had just moved into a beautiful house in town. It was the most beautiful house I think I had ever seen and even when I drive by it today, I still can see two little girls playing make believe inside with Marcy's little dog.
Little by little her parents were furnishing the house and Marcy's mom began to look for a used piano but she was reminded by her grandmother that there was money for a brand new piano. "Just go pick out whatever you want". So she picked out the most beautiful brown wood, high gloss piano she could find. A few days later I came for a visit and Marcy and I couldn't wait to sit at the piano.
Two years ago Marcy shared the "rest of the story" with me at our high school reunion. This is what she told me in her words: "After you went home Cyndi, mom came into the living room and saw scratches on the piano bench from your braces and she began to cry. My dad told her not to cry, that Cyndi didn't mean to do it. She said "Of course not but I don't know how to repair it and grandmother hasn't even seen it yet."
My daddy said "We are NOT going to fix the bench (as he loving touched the marks on the bench). Every time we look at it we will think of the joy and love that Cyndi brings. It will always remind us of her and it will always remind me of how fortunate I have been. I simply wish I could share my good fortune with her."
To this day the piano is proudly displayed in my parents living room. When mom plays she often looks down at the bench and smiles. I have often seen dad sit on the bench feeling the marks as he is talking."
I thanked Marcy for telling me that story with tears in my eyes. I try everyday to ask the Lord to help me be a blessing to others. Why? Because I have been so blessed to have so many people who have loved me along the way.
Friday, October 28, 2011
A Desire of My Heart
Little did these people know that it had always been a secret desire of mine to go white water rafting. There was One who knew and that was my Lord and Savior. You could say, it was on my bucket list. These people did not know my adventurous spirit either. The Walk is the last weekend in September and my tickets expired in October so I immediately called to make my reservations. So the third weekend in October we were set to go.
The Friday before we were to go I was working at The Center and I ventured into the Director's office. "Guess where I'm going tomorrow?" I asked. "White water rafting". She was shocked and quick to tell me that I could not go. "Well, you gave me the tickets", I answered.
"Well you weren't suppose to use them", she said. "What if you fall in?"
This was my answer: "Most of my life I have wanted to white water raft. God knew my desire, and without even asking Him for it, he gave it to me. It's not only your gift but it's His gift and His gifts are perfect. It will be the perfect day. I am not worried about the weather or falling in. It's going to be great. I can't wait. Thank you so much. God has used you to fulfill this dream so don't worry and be happy for me."
So Saturday morning my husband and I bundled up and with a change of dry clothes and shoes, we set off for the Ocoee River. The Ocoee is where the kayaking competition was done during the summer Olympics.
It was 58 degrees and no rain. The leaves were slow in changing that year but the Thursday before the mountains exploded into color. So adored in the most fashionable wind suits and a few how-to instructions, we pushed off into the water. I felt like Cleopatra as everyone lifted the boat into the water with me in it.
It was chilly but the water was a warm 72 degrees, so even though we were soaked to the bone within the first 60 seconds, the constant drenching we were getting kept us warm. No one in our boat fell in although once I wasn't sure if I had or not. That wall of water you see to your right in the second picture, washed over me in picture three, right in front of the guide, which is where I was sitting. I half way expected to be in the water but "surprise" I was still in the boat. It was a memory for the books. The scenery was gorgeous, I never got cold and it was a real thrill ride for sure.
I am so thankful the Lord gave me this heart's desire as He has done many times over. I am so very blessed.
Friday, October 21, 2011
"The Cyndi"
I can not leave this subject of sailing without one quick story. I've shared with you that my dad had a Boy Scout Troop for 55 years. As a 16 year old girl, this proved to be a very fascinating feature about my dad as each Monday night during the summer, I conveniently found myself in the kitchen as the boys began to arrive through our back door and down the steps to the basement.
There were two boys that summer who spent a lot of time at our house. They were working in our garage, building a sailboat to earn a merit badge. They were working on becoming an Eagle Scout, which is a very high honor, I might add. One of these boys, I had a crush on and the other boy had a crush on me but he was very shy. I saw him come out of his shell that summer as he put his all on the line to earn a badge and my heart. So as the boys worked each day in our garage, I would spend as much time as I could "helping them". I thought it particulary amuzing that neither one of them knew how to sail. Of all the things they could have built, why a sailboat, but I promised to teach them. Oh, the sacrifices we make to help our fellow man!!
Every other summer, I took a train to St. Louis to visit a girlfriend. I was very excited about the upcoming trip. So I left the boys to their work and told them I would be back at the end of July and that boat better be finished! I was as excited to come home to see their finished work as I was to leave. My mom picked me up at the station and drove me home. There in our backyard, sitting on some saw-horses, sat my boat. Yes, you heard me, my boat. Painted black with a red sail and the words "The Cyndi" painted on the side. I couldn't belive they named it after me. They said, "We not only named it after you, but it's your boat. Camp starts next week, and this year you will go with your own boat!" Even though I hated the color, it was the most beautiful gift I had ever recieved. The next summer I repainted it to the most beautiful torquoise and dyed the sail.
I did keep my promise to teach them. My parents and the two boys planned a Saturday to take the boat to the lake. The weather that day was awful. Soooo windy and gloomy. We had planned a whole day but it didn't look like the rain was going to hold off. So I took the first boy out for a spin, brought him back and set off with shy guy. The wind was really strong by now, so my mom insisted I wear a life jacket. Mothers!!
Once we were out in the middle, a huge gust came up and the boat went over. Not anything I wasn't use to but it probably freaked out shy guy a little. However, the rigging to the sail got caught in my so-called life jacket and pulled me under. I could not get it lose. I thought, "this is it. This life jacket is going to kill me." I had a perfect peace come over me. I did not fear, I just didn't want these two wonderful, caring young men to blame themselves for my death or my mother who made me wear the the vest. But, just like that, in an instant, I was free. Thank you Lord. I surfaced, grabbed a quick breath and began with the task of pulling the boat up, getting on and back to shore. I don't know if these guys ever sailed again. I kind of think they had enough. Needless to say, I wore that boat out but I never wore out my life vest. I will never forget my days on and in the water of Lake Bloomington or the friends that shared those times with me.
I learned something else that day too. I am not afraid to die. I have the absolute assurance of my eternal life in Heaven, now and even then at 16 years of age. There is no greater peace my friends.
John 3:16
There were two boys that summer who spent a lot of time at our house. They were working in our garage, building a sailboat to earn a merit badge. They were working on becoming an Eagle Scout, which is a very high honor, I might add. One of these boys, I had a crush on and the other boy had a crush on me but he was very shy. I saw him come out of his shell that summer as he put his all on the line to earn a badge and my heart. So as the boys worked each day in our garage, I would spend as much time as I could "helping them". I thought it particulary amuzing that neither one of them knew how to sail. Of all the things they could have built, why a sailboat, but I promised to teach them. Oh, the sacrifices we make to help our fellow man!!
Every other summer, I took a train to St. Louis to visit a girlfriend. I was very excited about the upcoming trip. So I left the boys to their work and told them I would be back at the end of July and that boat better be finished! I was as excited to come home to see their finished work as I was to leave. My mom picked me up at the station and drove me home. There in our backyard, sitting on some saw-horses, sat my boat. Yes, you heard me, my boat. Painted black with a red sail and the words "The Cyndi" painted on the side. I couldn't belive they named it after me. They said, "We not only named it after you, but it's your boat. Camp starts next week, and this year you will go with your own boat!" Even though I hated the color, it was the most beautiful gift I had ever recieved. The next summer I repainted it to the most beautiful torquoise and dyed the sail.
I did keep my promise to teach them. My parents and the two boys planned a Saturday to take the boat to the lake. The weather that day was awful. Soooo windy and gloomy. We had planned a whole day but it didn't look like the rain was going to hold off. So I took the first boy out for a spin, brought him back and set off with shy guy. The wind was really strong by now, so my mom insisted I wear a life jacket. Mothers!!
Once we were out in the middle, a huge gust came up and the boat went over. Not anything I wasn't use to but it probably freaked out shy guy a little. However, the rigging to the sail got caught in my so-called life jacket and pulled me under. I could not get it lose. I thought, "this is it. This life jacket is going to kill me." I had a perfect peace come over me. I did not fear, I just didn't want these two wonderful, caring young men to blame themselves for my death or my mother who made me wear the the vest. But, just like that, in an instant, I was free. Thank you Lord. I surfaced, grabbed a quick breath and began with the task of pulling the boat up, getting on and back to shore. I don't know if these guys ever sailed again. I kind of think they had enough. Needless to say, I wore that boat out but I never wore out my life vest. I will never forget my days on and in the water of Lake Bloomington or the friends that shared those times with me.
I learned something else that day too. I am not afraid to die. I have the absolute assurance of my eternal life in Heaven, now and even then at 16 years of age. There is no greater peace my friends.
John 3:16
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Sail On
I'll never forget that cold, rainy, windy day at camp. Rumor had it that some sailboats had been donated to the camp. We never had sailboats before and I assure you, my fellow junior counselors and I were ecstatic. Our water front director, Bill, was as excited as we were. Everyone was going in for breakfast when he pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to learn to sail. "Right now", I asked. "Yes, come on. I'll show you." So off to the beach we went. I learned fairly quickly that it didn't matter if it was raining when you went sailing because you were going to get wet anyway. But it might have been just a tad too windy for my first time out.
So we arrive at the beach and what do I see but a couple of little tub-like boats with a red sail. They reminded me of rub-a-dub-dub, but you would never get three men in that tub! But I was game so Bill with his long tan legs and I crawled into that boat. It was a disaster! We couldn't get it to go where we wanted. We went in circles quite a bit. Bill was very frustrated and ended up swimming us back to shore.
This tub boat seems to represent to me a new Christian or one that is not in God's Word. They are trying to sail through life on their own. The tools are there. The wind is blowing and you're trying to steer but you just go in circles. I needed instruction and Bill was determined to give me that, if I would be open to it. Don't circle around in the shallow end of faith. Experience is the best teacher. Get into God's Word and see what He can teach you.
The next summer they brought in a Sunfish. It had all the tools a great sailboat needed. The fun thing about it was, if it tipped over, you just stood on the centerboard and pulled it back up. It was flat so it was very easy to get back on. Sort of like when we fall into sin, God forgives, we stand on His promises and get right back into the race of living a spirit filled life.
After several years of sailing experience, I was told one day to take the Directors 26 foot sailing vessel out with a load of children. This boat was huge. It had two or three sails and a very big centerboard. I felt unprepared. It was too much responsibility and I felt unsure. What if it flipped with all these little crippled children?
Do you feel unprepared to share God's Word or are you just scared? When the Lord puts an opportunity right in your path, what do you do? Whatever our faith says God is, He will be.
The more we're in the Word the more prepared we will be to fight Satan, the more prepared you will be to make wise choices, the more prepared you will be to share His Word, and the more prepared you will be to handle tragedy in your life. Share what you know.
So I took those children out in that boat and we had a great time. I gained from that experience and I hope they did too.
So we arrive at the beach and what do I see but a couple of little tub-like boats with a red sail. They reminded me of rub-a-dub-dub, but you would never get three men in that tub! But I was game so Bill with his long tan legs and I crawled into that boat. It was a disaster! We couldn't get it to go where we wanted. We went in circles quite a bit. Bill was very frustrated and ended up swimming us back to shore.
This tub boat seems to represent to me a new Christian or one that is not in God's Word. They are trying to sail through life on their own. The tools are there. The wind is blowing and you're trying to steer but you just go in circles. I needed instruction and Bill was determined to give me that, if I would be open to it. Don't circle around in the shallow end of faith. Experience is the best teacher. Get into God's Word and see what He can teach you.
The next summer they brought in a Sunfish. It had all the tools a great sailboat needed. The fun thing about it was, if it tipped over, you just stood on the centerboard and pulled it back up. It was flat so it was very easy to get back on. Sort of like when we fall into sin, God forgives, we stand on His promises and get right back into the race of living a spirit filled life.
After several years of sailing experience, I was told one day to take the Directors 26 foot sailing vessel out with a load of children. This boat was huge. It had two or three sails and a very big centerboard. I felt unprepared. It was too much responsibility and I felt unsure. What if it flipped with all these little crippled children?
Do you feel unprepared to share God's Word or are you just scared? When the Lord puts an opportunity right in your path, what do you do? Whatever our faith says God is, He will be.
The more we're in the Word the more prepared we will be to fight Satan, the more prepared you will be to make wise choices, the more prepared you will be to share His Word, and the more prepared you will be to handle tragedy in your life. Share what you know.
So I took those children out in that boat and we had a great time. I gained from that experience and I hope they did too.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Cool, Clear, Water
I learned at a very young age that water was my friend, my very good friend. I was first introduced to a whirlpool tank at a very young age where I quickly learned I could move my limbs with no help from anyone else. I could hardly wait to get over 3 feet tall so I could start taking swimming lessons in the pool at our school. Finally, my third grade year I was allowed to get in and the water was fine. I immediately stood on my own, no braces or crutches. Being in that pool, I felt like just a normal healthy kid. I couldn't get enough of it. I learned to float the first day and before you knew it, I was swimming laps. My junior high year I was making my way up the diving board, scooting to the end and off I'd go. There, is no beauty in my dive or my swim strokes. My bootie always seems to want to bob up into the air and I can't kick, but I love it.
At Crippled Children's Camp I was introduced to the lake. I don't particularly care for the sand but I love swimming in the lake. It was always my goal to swim across it, which I never reached but always wanted to.
At an early age at camp I was taught to row a boat. Rowing was hard work for such a little thing but I loved it. When I was little older, I was taught to paddle a canoe. Now I had found my niche. It was so easy and I loved how you could just glide across the water and get into all these little coves and streams. I could have spent everyday of camp out in a canoe from morning till night and have to say, many times I did. One day during swim period, we were told to take a canoe out a ways and tip it over and then try and get it flipped back up and get inside. Now there was a challenge. Many of you may think it's easy to flip a canoe, but really it took some rocking and rolling before we had success. What fun that was. Oh, getting it over and back inside. Forget about it!!
Long about the 8th grade they brought in some sailboats. That's another story which I will save for next time. But what I want to say before I go is that Crippled Children's Camp was instrumental in my growth at an independent disabled person. What it taught me is that with God's help and wisdom, I could really do anything I wanted, I just had to figure out a different way to go about it. I will forever be thankful for that lesson. It has served me well. So I love the water, I want to be in it or on it. It doesn't matter. Goodness, I even like to drink it.
At Crippled Children's Camp I was introduced to the lake. I don't particularly care for the sand but I love swimming in the lake. It was always my goal to swim across it, which I never reached but always wanted to.
At an early age at camp I was taught to row a boat. Rowing was hard work for such a little thing but I loved it. When I was little older, I was taught to paddle a canoe. Now I had found my niche. It was so easy and I loved how you could just glide across the water and get into all these little coves and streams. I could have spent everyday of camp out in a canoe from morning till night and have to say, many times I did. One day during swim period, we were told to take a canoe out a ways and tip it over and then try and get it flipped back up and get inside. Now there was a challenge. Many of you may think it's easy to flip a canoe, but really it took some rocking and rolling before we had success. What fun that was. Oh, getting it over and back inside. Forget about it!!
Long about the 8th grade they brought in some sailboats. That's another story which I will save for next time. But what I want to say before I go is that Crippled Children's Camp was instrumental in my growth at an independent disabled person. What it taught me is that with God's help and wisdom, I could really do anything I wanted, I just had to figure out a different way to go about it. I will forever be thankful for that lesson. It has served me well. So I love the water, I want to be in it or on it. It doesn't matter. Goodness, I even like to drink it.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Everyone Needs a Head Cheerleader
You've heard it said now-a-days, that it takes a village to raise a child. Well, when I was young, it took a team. Probably still does. I had a team of doctors, surgeons, teachers, therapists, camp staff and my family to keep me going. Like any good team, you need some cheerleaders. Haven't you noticed when you go to a game, that there is always one or two cheerleaders that stand out. They cheer louder, jump higher, and are just..well, more enthusiastic about cheering their team on. I had many cheerleaders but there are two that stood out among all the rest.
My Aunt Marge and Uncle Jim lived around the corner from us. It was about half a block down our street, around the corner, up two steps onto the sidewalk, another half block on there street, cross the street and up their very steep driveway. Many times my cousin would come over to my house and get me in the wagon and pull me over to her house to play or sometimes we would just play at mine. Her mom was my mom's sister. When my grandparents needed to stay with someone, my aunt and uncle built an apartment onto the back of their home for them. That was another reason it was more fun to go to her house. My grandparents were there.
Over the years my Aunt and Uncle saw me accomplish many things, some big and some not so big. However, their reaction was always the same. You've never experienced a pat on the back like the one my Uncle Jim could give you. I always knew he was proud of me, no matter what. Whenever I would learn something new, I couldn't wait to tell them. But the day I remember most, is the day I decided to walk over to their house by myself. I had never walked over there before, not even with my cousin. It was a nice summer day and I knew they were all home. I don't know how long it took me. The challenging part was their driveway. It was huge, straight up. It's a wonder they could even get up it in the winter. But I took it one step at a time making sure I did not fall (which I was very prone to do). Finally, I made it! Around to the back door, up the back steps and knock on the door. "Surprise. I just walked over here all by myself." Oh, my goodness, my Uncle was so proud of me. He gave me a big ole hug and just went on and on about it. I was so happy. Aunt Margie fixed me a cool drink and gave me food. You would have thought I had run a 5k. In their eyes, I had. What a great day that was.
A couple summer's ago I drove past their house. You know that driveway has barely any incline to it at all. I was like "What???" "Who stole their driveway and put that little one in there!"
I am still blessed to have my Uncle Jim and he's still cheering me on.
My Aunt Marge and Uncle Jim lived around the corner from us. It was about half a block down our street, around the corner, up two steps onto the sidewalk, another half block on there street, cross the street and up their very steep driveway. Many times my cousin would come over to my house and get me in the wagon and pull me over to her house to play or sometimes we would just play at mine. Her mom was my mom's sister. When my grandparents needed to stay with someone, my aunt and uncle built an apartment onto the back of their home for them. That was another reason it was more fun to go to her house. My grandparents were there.
Over the years my Aunt and Uncle saw me accomplish many things, some big and some not so big. However, their reaction was always the same. You've never experienced a pat on the back like the one my Uncle Jim could give you. I always knew he was proud of me, no matter what. Whenever I would learn something new, I couldn't wait to tell them. But the day I remember most, is the day I decided to walk over to their house by myself. I had never walked over there before, not even with my cousin. It was a nice summer day and I knew they were all home. I don't know how long it took me. The challenging part was their driveway. It was huge, straight up. It's a wonder they could even get up it in the winter. But I took it one step at a time making sure I did not fall (which I was very prone to do). Finally, I made it! Around to the back door, up the back steps and knock on the door. "Surprise. I just walked over here all by myself." Oh, my goodness, my Uncle was so proud of me. He gave me a big ole hug and just went on and on about it. I was so happy. Aunt Margie fixed me a cool drink and gave me food. You would have thought I had run a 5k. In their eyes, I had. What a great day that was.
A couple summer's ago I drove past their house. You know that driveway has barely any incline to it at all. I was like "What???" "Who stole their driveway and put that little one in there!"
I am still blessed to have my Uncle Jim and he's still cheering me on.
Friday, September 30, 2011
15 Minutes of Fame
Haven't you heard that everyone has fifteen minutes of fame? Well mine came at age seven. I became poster child for the March of Dimes. The March of Dimes was instrumental in helping those families that were touched by the polio epidemic. Many times they came to the aid of my parents when I had a need. So it was only logical that I be the one to help them with their cause. I can remember them helping me even up into my twenties when I needed a new set of crutches.
I know sometimes we wonder how it is for those children who are poster children. Is it wonderful for them or are they exploited? I have to say that even though I was only seven at the time, I remember it very well. Which is amazing because I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday. There were high points and low points during my term of hanging on a billboard and I have to say, what determined that were more the people around me and how they were treating me. Sadly, a certain television station in our area did treat me like a piece of merchandise rather then a little child who had been thrown into the lime-light. But one night I had the privilege of singing "Jesus Love Me" on the radio. The people at WJBC were wonderful and treated me like a little star. The Pantagraph, our local paper did a full story on me and my family and followed me around for a full week taking pictures at school, home and church. They were very good to me as well.
So for the most part it was a good experience but when my parents were confronted about letting me be the National Poster Child, it was a flat "No Thank You". So much for my Hollywood career!!
So the next time you see a little child on TV representing an organization such as MDA or Easter Seals, pray for that child and their family because, trust me, it can be a very joyful or traumatic situation.
I know sometimes we wonder how it is for those children who are poster children. Is it wonderful for them or are they exploited? I have to say that even though I was only seven at the time, I remember it very well. Which is amazing because I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday. There were high points and low points during my term of hanging on a billboard and I have to say, what determined that were more the people around me and how they were treating me. Sadly, a certain television station in our area did treat me like a piece of merchandise rather then a little child who had been thrown into the lime-light. But one night I had the privilege of singing "Jesus Love Me" on the radio. The people at WJBC were wonderful and treated me like a little star. The Pantagraph, our local paper did a full story on me and my family and followed me around for a full week taking pictures at school, home and church. They were very good to me as well.
So for the most part it was a good experience but when my parents were confronted about letting me be the National Poster Child, it was a flat "No Thank You". So much for my Hollywood career!!
So the next time you see a little child on TV representing an organization such as MDA or Easter Seals, pray for that child and their family because, trust me, it can be a very joyful or traumatic situation.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
A Special Birthday Surprise
I talked a little before about my maternal grandparents and how special they were to me. But the sun rose and set in my fraternal grandfather as far as my big brother and I were concerned. He passed away when I was twelve but the twelve years he was in my life, well...I just never will forget.
Grandpa was an umpire. He would take my brother and I to the baseball games and sit us behind home plate with a hotdog and a coke. I can picture him today in all that black umpire stuff they had to wear, turning around to check on us every chance he got. Sunday afternoons at his house was spent with him and I sitting in his big chair watching a baseball game on TV with our eyes closed. Sort of like my husband does now. After he retired, he bought a hotel. So consequently, baseball and hotels are in my blood. It's no wonder I ended up working for two major hotel chains. Oh, and did I tell you he could do magic? The first thing my brother and I did when he walked in the door was ask him to make a quarter appear behind our ears. Amazing!! I am also convinced that he knew Santa on a personal basis because we always got everything on our list.
So just when a little girls birthday couldn't get better, guess who showed up? That was the best part of the whole day. I loved him so very much and I miss him.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
I Am Passionate About........
Life! I love life and I feel every human being, from conception, deserves life. For about four years now I have been volunteering at our local Women's Care Center. Helping young women who find themselves pregnant, whether planned or unplanned, is very dear to my heart. So many are left to fend for themselves with no support from family or the father. Many are pushed into situations that are not healthy for them or their baby. I love counseling these young ladies.
Having lived with a disability it's hard for me to understand why anyone has the right to decide whether a child lives or dies. I know not everyone feels this way but it is how I feel and I am passionate about it. As long as I can remember I have been Pro Life and am very proud of it. When I worked for Ozark Airlines, 100 years ago it seems, I had a good friend who worked there too, who was also disabled. In my eyes, her disability was not as severe as my own but she thought otherwise. Her reasoning, because she had never married and could not have children and I had. This young woman had an awesome, high paying job for an airline. She owned her own home and had traveled all over the world for about the price of a tank of gas in your car. She was very funny and was well liked by everyone. She had some deformities internally and physically but nothing you really noticed once you got to know her. What if her mother had opted for an abortion? Think of the life this person would have missed but most of all, I think of what we would have been deprived of by not getting the extreme privilege of knowing her.
Today I rolled through my 4th Women's Care Center Walk For Life. What a beautiful day God gave us. I am honored to be a part of this wonderful ministry. I was at the front of the 300 walkers along with the young children you wanted to walk behind the banner. I was well entertained by their conversation. They began a discussion on birth marks. As one little girl was telling about her birthmark on her arm, the little boy next to her says "You don't even want to know where my birthmark is!" Children are such a special blessing. If you want to smile, have a conversation or just listen to the conversation of a child. What right do we have to take a child "out"? Who would that child have been? He or she could have discovered a cure to some terrible disease or became a great leader. Only God Knows.
Several years ago God began to work in my heart about getting involved in a ministry again. Two friends kept telling me about the Center but I thought God had a different job for me to do. Well I was wrong. I went to speak to the young woman in charge of volunteers and immediately felt at home. God had a place for me here and I knew it. Issues from my past surfaced through Volunteer Training and healing in my own life took place. I saw, once-again, how a trial or traumatic time in a persons life could be used for good and God's glory.
Having lived with a disability it's hard for me to understand why anyone has the right to decide whether a child lives or dies. I know not everyone feels this way but it is how I feel and I am passionate about it. As long as I can remember I have been Pro Life and am very proud of it. When I worked for Ozark Airlines, 100 years ago it seems, I had a good friend who worked there too, who was also disabled. In my eyes, her disability was not as severe as my own but she thought otherwise. Her reasoning, because she had never married and could not have children and I had. This young woman had an awesome, high paying job for an airline. She owned her own home and had traveled all over the world for about the price of a tank of gas in your car. She was very funny and was well liked by everyone. She had some deformities internally and physically but nothing you really noticed once you got to know her. What if her mother had opted for an abortion? Think of the life this person would have missed but most of all, I think of what we would have been deprived of by not getting the extreme privilege of knowing her.
Today I rolled through my 4th Women's Care Center Walk For Life. What a beautiful day God gave us. I am honored to be a part of this wonderful ministry. I was at the front of the 300 walkers along with the young children you wanted to walk behind the banner. I was well entertained by their conversation. They began a discussion on birth marks. As one little girl was telling about her birthmark on her arm, the little boy next to her says "You don't even want to know where my birthmark is!" Children are such a special blessing. If you want to smile, have a conversation or just listen to the conversation of a child. What right do we have to take a child "out"? Who would that child have been? He or she could have discovered a cure to some terrible disease or became a great leader. Only God Knows.
Several years ago God began to work in my heart about getting involved in a ministry again. Two friends kept telling me about the Center but I thought God had a different job for me to do. Well I was wrong. I went to speak to the young woman in charge of volunteers and immediately felt at home. God had a place for me here and I knew it. Issues from my past surfaced through Volunteer Training and healing in my own life took place. I saw, once-again, how a trial or traumatic time in a persons life could be used for good and God's glory.
Friday, September 23, 2011
A Time To Play
One of the first things my parents quickly realized was that they needed a one story house. So I think, with the help of the GI Bill, they were able to build a huge ranch style home. I was five years old when we moved into the neighborhood. Up until that time, most of my days were filled with adults, my brother and my cousin. But my new house had a family next door with a little girl, just a year older then me. She was an only child. I remember moving day she came over to meet the new little girl next door and went home crying to her mother because the new little girl (me) was different. She had never seen a child who could not walk. It wasn't long though that we became forever friends. Her and my cousin, who was the same age as she was, were instrumental in making sure that I learned to play like other kids. They spent hours pushing me up the hill on the tricycle or sled and then jumping on the back for the ride down with me. There were many games of badminton or ping pong and they always chased down the ball or birdie for me. We would play hide-n-seek counting to 100 instead of 10 or 50, giving me enough time to hide. Remember when you could play outside past dark and nobody had to worry about you. Mom would flash the porch light and then we knew it was time to go in.
We had a swing set out back that we spent hours on behind our house. I had learned to crawl up onto a swing and they would push me. But they would get up on these cross bars and hang like monkeys. I, of course, did not want to be out done and knew I could figure out a way to get up there. So I began to swing my swing seat sideways until I could grasp the bar. Once I had done that I was able to get one leg swung over the cross bar and then pulled myself up there. I was so proud as I called to my mom through the kitchen window to see what I had done. You could literally hear the fear in her voice as she said "Oh honey, that's good. How did you get up there?" Then I hear her yell for my dad over her shoulder that he needed to come see what HIS daughter was up too. They have a great picture that was taken that day of me sitting up there on that bar with a look of such accomplishment and my daddy standing next to me, so proud as well. Even as teenagers we loved that old swing set. Setting on it at night, talking about boys and school and the boys at school and church and the boys at church.
Us three girls had so much fun growing up playing dolls, putting on talent shows, playing games in the backyard. Always, I was included in someway.
My little neighbor friend passed on of cancer suddenly this year. It was devastating but I will always have the hundreds of memories that her, my cousin and I shared growing up in our little neighborhood. Oh, remember that huge home I told you we moved into. Well I drove by it a couple years ago and it was so small. It must have shrunk in the dryer or something. How could that big old kitchen we had fit in that little bitty house? Funny how things look through the eyes of a child.
We had a swing set out back that we spent hours on behind our house. I had learned to crawl up onto a swing and they would push me. But they would get up on these cross bars and hang like monkeys. I, of course, did not want to be out done and knew I could figure out a way to get up there. So I began to swing my swing seat sideways until I could grasp the bar. Once I had done that I was able to get one leg swung over the cross bar and then pulled myself up there. I was so proud as I called to my mom through the kitchen window to see what I had done. You could literally hear the fear in her voice as she said "Oh honey, that's good. How did you get up there?" Then I hear her yell for my dad over her shoulder that he needed to come see what HIS daughter was up too. They have a great picture that was taken that day of me sitting up there on that bar with a look of such accomplishment and my daddy standing next to me, so proud as well. Even as teenagers we loved that old swing set. Setting on it at night, talking about boys and school and the boys at school and church and the boys at church.
Us three girls had so much fun growing up playing dolls, putting on talent shows, playing games in the backyard. Always, I was included in someway.
My little neighbor friend passed on of cancer suddenly this year. It was devastating but I will always have the hundreds of memories that her, my cousin and I shared growing up in our little neighborhood. Oh, remember that huge home I told you we moved into. Well I drove by it a couple years ago and it was so small. It must have shrunk in the dryer or something. How could that big old kitchen we had fit in that little bitty house? Funny how things look through the eyes of a child.
Monday, September 19, 2011
First Day of School
So my mom didn't have to lug me (I mean take me) on the bus everyday to the hospital for therapy, they started me in school at age four so I could have therapy there everyday. A cab driver came each day to pick me up and take me home. My first day, however, my mom took me but when I realized she was going to leave me there, I was terrified. I couldn't get around in those braces and my mommy did everything for me. She would take me to the bathroom and feed me my favorite things. Who would care for me there? I remember mom sitting me on a chair in Mrs. Brown's kindergarten class. The chairs were in a circle and all these other kids were around that I didn't know. Now I need to point out that the kindergarten was not a special ed class. I was the only one in there, well, like me. When she told me goodbye, and walked out the door, I screamed like nobodies business!
I can only remember screaming like that three times in my life. That was the first time, the second was when I was five and they were cutting off a body cast. That doctor came at my little five year old body with that buzz saw and they heard me clear in Chicago. The third time was the summer just before I turned six and I was at camp. I was put in a cabin with girls about 6 or 7 years older then me and they thought it would be fun to scare me by telling me there were big spiders in the cabin. Needless to say, I emptied out the counselor staff meeting.
So back to the story. I started screaming and mom came back in. She talked to me a little bit and explained how I had to stay and that I would be taken care of. Well I showed her. Before she could get out of the building, I wet my pants. I knew that would get her back and she would see that these people wouldn't take care of me. Being married to a scout leader for several years she was "prepared" and had brought another pair of panties. So much more that idea! So I settled down and after that day, I was fine. I made friends and looked forward to painting and playing.
Everyday I got to play with the therapist, or I thought that's what we were doing. I loved her a great deal. The whole 13 years I went to school, I only had two therapists so I got very attached. They taught me so many things and challenged me everyday to do more. I will be forever grateful.
I can only remember screaming like that three times in my life. That was the first time, the second was when I was five and they were cutting off a body cast. That doctor came at my little five year old body with that buzz saw and they heard me clear in Chicago. The third time was the summer just before I turned six and I was at camp. I was put in a cabin with girls about 6 or 7 years older then me and they thought it would be fun to scare me by telling me there were big spiders in the cabin. Needless to say, I emptied out the counselor staff meeting.
So back to the story. I started screaming and mom came back in. She talked to me a little bit and explained how I had to stay and that I would be taken care of. Well I showed her. Before she could get out of the building, I wet my pants. I knew that would get her back and she would see that these people wouldn't take care of me. Being married to a scout leader for several years she was "prepared" and had brought another pair of panties. So much more that idea! So I settled down and after that day, I was fine. I made friends and looked forward to painting and playing.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Nothing Like a Great Set of Grandparents
Remember me telling you how my grandpa made me a little four wheel skateboard to use right after I had polio. Well two years later, when I received my first pair of braces, he made me this amazing little desk with wheels. It was like a babies walker only for a four year old. He would go on to make many keepsakes for our family. I have passed on to my grandgirlies some of my most precious gifts from him but the toy box he made me still graces my family room. It's hard to believe I use to empty all the toys out and climb inside and shut the lid when an MRI machine terrifies me today.
My grandparents lived in a huge three story house with a large backyard. That yard was lined with a brick wall along the back that was flooded with my grandpa's roses. He had built a little rock garden with a small goldfish pond. Next to the pond was a concrete bench with a rose trellis over the top. It was beautiful!. Then he made us our own goofy golf game that we played in their backyard with croquet ball and mallets.
Now grandma was the master at games. It didn't matter if it was a board game, card game or golf game, she was out for blood. So needless to say, when our family gets together to play games, it's serious. Thanks to grandma and her "no mercy" genes that she has passed on to most of us. I loved that house. I have so many fond memories of sleepovers with my cousins in that house. Grandma and Grandpa both were great cooks. Grandpa had gotten hurt and had to quit working so Grandma opened a Hat Shop in our town and Grandpa took over preparing the meals. Even today, when my husband and I are out at a restaurant and they bring french fries peeled and fried just the right way, we lick our lips and say "Mmmm, Grandpa R. fries."
I have, on many occasions tried to follow one of my Grandmothers recipes to make one of her famous dishes and it never tastes like hers. I don't know if she spit in hers or what but there diffinitely was another ingredient. Must have been made with love.
So I mentioned Grandma's Hat Shop. It was downtown, right across from the Montgomery Wards. You talk about play land for a little girl..there was nothing more fun then a Saturday at the Hat Shop. Mom would take my cousins and I there and we would try on every hat in the store. EVERY HAT!!!! My cousin would be the clerk and I would pretend to be a million different customers. It was such fun.
My grandmother was a woman of huge faith. She would put a bible tract in every hat bag. She was a wonderful example of a prayer warrior. She loved missionaries and would spend hours a day praying for them.
Grandma led me to the Lord one Sunday afternoon after church. We remained in the car after everyone had gone on into the house. I don't know if I had questioned her about something that I had heard that morning or not but what I do know is that I trusted Jesus as my Savior that day. I was seven years old.
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Dentist!
Today I had to do one of my least favorite things, go to the dentist. I didn't hate it as a child. In fact, I looked forward to it. Our dentist was one of my best friend's dad. My friend had Muscular Dystrophy. We went all the way through school together. He was the first person I ever met with that dread disease and at the young age of six, I never dreamed it would take his life. We were the best of buddies. Everyday through grade school, we were forced to have rest period. I remember he was taken out of his wheelchair each day and laid flat on a table. I always made sure I had the cot beside his, and we would talk and giggle the hour away. He was very, very funny. He couldn't move any of his limbs and even had difficulty holding his head up. His father, being a doctor, had hired a college student to be his aid. He had a personal aid till the day he died.
His dad was a wonderful man. Going to see him at his office was always fun. It was easy to see where my friend got his sense of humor. Father and son, were very close. It was difficult for my dentist to deal with the diagnoses of his son and facing a future without him was overwhelming. So much so, that one fateful evening, my dentist shot himself. We were just young teens. I don't think he could bare to watch his young son die. My friend and his sister were the one's to discover the body. If he had only known that his son would make it all through high school, graduate from college and have a well respected position at the university. MD did eventually take his life but he and his daddy would have had many, many more years together. Ever sense then, I have hated going to the dentist.
By the time I was 25, I had lost many wonderful, precious friends to that disease. Watched them wither away until God called them home.
I pray that God will continue to give wisdom to the men and women who seek a cure.
His dad was a wonderful man. Going to see him at his office was always fun. It was easy to see where my friend got his sense of humor. Father and son, were very close. It was difficult for my dentist to deal with the diagnoses of his son and facing a future without him was overwhelming. So much so, that one fateful evening, my dentist shot himself. We were just young teens. I don't think he could bare to watch his young son die. My friend and his sister were the one's to discover the body. If he had only known that his son would make it all through high school, graduate from college and have a well respected position at the university. MD did eventually take his life but he and his daddy would have had many, many more years together. Ever sense then, I have hated going to the dentist.
By the time I was 25, I had lost many wonderful, precious friends to that disease. Watched them wither away until God called them home.
I pray that God will continue to give wisdom to the men and women who seek a cure.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Always A Marine
I wanted to continue my dad's amazing story of God's perfect plan in his life. When we are affected by a tragedy or trial in our life all we can think is, this can't be good. Maybe we question God and want to know just what He is thinking! I always told dad he had to endure all of that because one day he would have a little daughter who would need him to show her how to survive a tragedy in her own little life. As true as that was, little did I know that there was going to be so much more to his story.
About 16 years ago on a cold February day in the Midwest, my dad had my mom drive him out to scout camp so he could meet some guys to haul some down trees out of the woods so they could be split. The other guys didn't show up but dad figured he wasn't going to waste the day, so got the tractor out and proceeded with the task at hand. My dad loved to drive the tractor. I think because he couldn't drive a car, he got a certain amount of satisfaction from driving a tractor. Anyway, dad had chained up a log and it got snagged. So he got off the tractor to roll it loose and climbed back up on his seat to give it one more try. As he looked over his shoulder to see that all was going well, the tractor flipped over backwards, pinning him underneath.
We don't know how long he laid under that tractor but his watch broke at 9:30AM. Somehow he managed to dig himself out. We are thinking the blood from his head injury had thawed the ground enough that with one hand, he was able to free himself. Did I say head injury? Oh yes, major head injury. The gear shift and steering wheel from the tractor literally destroyed half his face and forehead. One eye was out of it's socket. Upon digging himself out, somehow he made his way another 1/2 mile to the lodge where he administered his own first aid by wrapping his head in kitchen towels and then calling my mom at work to tell her he had hurt himself and that she might want to take him to the hospital. That call was made at noon. We really don't know how daddy made it out and to the lodge. We feel his guardian angel carried him and I think he does too. To this day, there are still so many unanswered questions.
So mom arrives to find him sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his head....she has no idea the extent of the injury. He won't allow her to leave without locking everything up and then off they go to the ER.
The young neurosurgeon that is assigned to my dad had been attending a brain symposium that just happened to be in our town that very week and the #3 neurosurgeon with Mayo Clinic was the keynote speaker. He asked him if he wouldn't mind staying to oversee dad's surgery the next day. He agrees and then when they were done he hopped on a plane and we never heard from him again. Dad's brain surgery was tricky because of the old war injury. There was a cavity in my dad's head where the bullet had been removed and then a steel plate was placed over it to protect the area. That cavity cushioned the blow to his head that cold February day and the steel plate protected his brain. My dad had no brain damage!!! His eye was put back in it's socket and he could see, he went through hours of plastic surgery and guess what? He still looks like daddy. So the tragedy that touched his life 50 years prior, saved his own life that day. Just don't take him through a metal detector!
I am very blessed to still have both my parents and they both continue to amaze me with their strength and love for family, friends and most of all, their Lord and Savior.
About 16 years ago on a cold February day in the Midwest, my dad had my mom drive him out to scout camp so he could meet some guys to haul some down trees out of the woods so they could be split. The other guys didn't show up but dad figured he wasn't going to waste the day, so got the tractor out and proceeded with the task at hand. My dad loved to drive the tractor. I think because he couldn't drive a car, he got a certain amount of satisfaction from driving a tractor. Anyway, dad had chained up a log and it got snagged. So he got off the tractor to roll it loose and climbed back up on his seat to give it one more try. As he looked over his shoulder to see that all was going well, the tractor flipped over backwards, pinning him underneath.
We don't know how long he laid under that tractor but his watch broke at 9:30AM. Somehow he managed to dig himself out. We are thinking the blood from his head injury had thawed the ground enough that with one hand, he was able to free himself. Did I say head injury? Oh yes, major head injury. The gear shift and steering wheel from the tractor literally destroyed half his face and forehead. One eye was out of it's socket. Upon digging himself out, somehow he made his way another 1/2 mile to the lodge where he administered his own first aid by wrapping his head in kitchen towels and then calling my mom at work to tell her he had hurt himself and that she might want to take him to the hospital. That call was made at noon. We really don't know how daddy made it out and to the lodge. We feel his guardian angel carried him and I think he does too. To this day, there are still so many unanswered questions.
So mom arrives to find him sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his head....she has no idea the extent of the injury. He won't allow her to leave without locking everything up and then off they go to the ER.
The young neurosurgeon that is assigned to my dad had been attending a brain symposium that just happened to be in our town that very week and the #3 neurosurgeon with Mayo Clinic was the keynote speaker. He asked him if he wouldn't mind staying to oversee dad's surgery the next day. He agrees and then when they were done he hopped on a plane and we never heard from him again. Dad's brain surgery was tricky because of the old war injury. There was a cavity in my dad's head where the bullet had been removed and then a steel plate was placed over it to protect the area. That cavity cushioned the blow to his head that cold February day and the steel plate protected his brain. My dad had no brain damage!!! His eye was put back in it's socket and he could see, he went through hours of plastic surgery and guess what? He still looks like daddy. So the tragedy that touched his life 50 years prior, saved his own life that day. Just don't take him through a metal detector!
I am very blessed to still have both my parents and they both continue to amaze me with their strength and love for family, friends and most of all, their Lord and Savior.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Once A Marine
My daddy is the ultimate example of God's plan at work. He is a World War II Disabled Veteran. A Marine who was shot in the head on the beaches of Okinawa. This left the nerves on one side of his body paralyzed, no feeling whatsoever. Sometimes this worked to his advantage. At age 82 he broke out with shingles on his back but he didn't even know he had them. Mom just happened to spot the rash. Shingles is a very painful condition for most. As children on a long trip we would amuse ourselves by trying our best to hurt him. We would pinch him or stick him with something and say "Did you feel that?" His answer was always "no". What a good sport he was and still is. Daddy never drove a car after his injury but really, other than that, he did not let his disability become an excuse for not being all that he could be and he became quite a man.
My grandfather thought it would be good therapy for my dad to become involved in helping him with his Boy Scout Troop. Daddy retired from being a scout master after 55 years. Had it not been for dad's injury, he may have never gotten involved in scouting. I am in awe at all the young men's lives he as influenced over 55 years time. He even had the one millionth Eagle Scout in the nation in his troop. He has been given every possible award that can be given in scouting.
Not only did his injury jump start this passion for scouting but it also prepared him to be the father of a disabled child. My daddy has always been my example of how living with a disability can spark an ability in you to do other things. Therefore you are not disabled but enabled.
So now the Lord has put me in a loving Christian home with a mother who is physically able to care for me and emotionally able to not shelter or over protect me and to let me fly. He has given me a father who will instill in me the "no limits" attitude to make it in this world. God has put me in a town with all the resources I need to learn my independence. Can you see God's hand yet? Well there is more to my dad's story. Something that will leave you without question, God's plan. There are no coincidences in life people. Just God's perfect plan. He makes no mistakes.
My grandfather thought it would be good therapy for my dad to become involved in helping him with his Boy Scout Troop. Daddy retired from being a scout master after 55 years. Had it not been for dad's injury, he may have never gotten involved in scouting. I am in awe at all the young men's lives he as influenced over 55 years time. He even had the one millionth Eagle Scout in the nation in his troop. He has been given every possible award that can be given in scouting.
Not only did his injury jump start this passion for scouting but it also prepared him to be the father of a disabled child. My daddy has always been my example of how living with a disability can spark an ability in you to do other things. Therefore you are not disabled but enabled.
So now the Lord has put me in a loving Christian home with a mother who is physically able to care for me and emotionally able to not shelter or over protect me and to let me fly. He has given me a father who will instill in me the "no limits" attitude to make it in this world. God has put me in a town with all the resources I need to learn my independence. Can you see God's hand yet? Well there is more to my dad's story. Something that will leave you without question, God's plan. There are no coincidences in life people. Just God's perfect plan. He makes no mistakes.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
There Really Is A Plan
The Lord has given me the awesome opportunity to do some public speaking. So many people see this as a huge fear, I love it. Now don't put me in an MRI machine or a cave but telling what God has done for me and how he has used my life, is such a honor.
We are made by the Master Designer. He has a plan for each one of us and is continually preparing us for what lies ahead. When I had polio, God allowed it. He didn't strike me down with it or it wasn't a punishment of some kind. But He allowed it so it could be used to bring honor and glory to Him. He did not leave me helpless. He made sure I had the parents I needed to have, lived in the town I needed to live in and gave me the talents and abilities I needed to have.
I was born in a Midwestern college town. This college had a school for disabled children on campus. So God's plan was for me to live in this town and go to this school. He provided my mother with the strengths and abilities she would need to care for a disabled child. She was the second girl in her family and grandpa was sure she would be a boy. When she wasn't, he tried to do the next best thing, turn her into a tomboy. He nicknamed her Billy and he taught her to be strong. She could fix anything, lift anything and even drive anything. As a child she might've been a little resentful of this tomboy lifestyle but little did she know that God was preparing her to be the mother of a child that she would need to carry, years past the time of lifting a child. My son worked in a nursing home for awhile. He said, "I don't know what God is preparing me for but I'm sure it's something." I told him it was to take care of me.
Most importantly, God gave me a Christian family. Without the faith that I witnessed in my parents and grandparents I may not have been so willing to take it as my own. I am sure if you look back on your life and some of the challenges you have experienced or may be experiencing now, think of how God has prepared you, because I know He has.
We are made by the Master Designer. He has a plan for each one of us and is continually preparing us for what lies ahead. When I had polio, God allowed it. He didn't strike me down with it or it wasn't a punishment of some kind. But He allowed it so it could be used to bring honor and glory to Him. He did not leave me helpless. He made sure I had the parents I needed to have, lived in the town I needed to live in and gave me the talents and abilities I needed to have.
I was born in a Midwestern college town. This college had a school for disabled children on campus. So God's plan was for me to live in this town and go to this school. He provided my mother with the strengths and abilities she would need to care for a disabled child. She was the second girl in her family and grandpa was sure she would be a boy. When she wasn't, he tried to do the next best thing, turn her into a tomboy. He nicknamed her Billy and he taught her to be strong. She could fix anything, lift anything and even drive anything. As a child she might've been a little resentful of this tomboy lifestyle but little did she know that God was preparing her to be the mother of a child that she would need to carry, years past the time of lifting a child. My son worked in a nursing home for awhile. He said, "I don't know what God is preparing me for but I'm sure it's something." I told him it was to take care of me.
Most importantly, God gave me a Christian family. Without the faith that I witnessed in my parents and grandparents I may not have been so willing to take it as my own. I am sure if you look back on your life and some of the challenges you have experienced or may be experiencing now, think of how God has prepared you, because I know He has.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Boot Scoot Boogie
Soon I would get to go home. My grandfather R. made all kinds of contraptions for me to get around in. I probably had the first skateboard. He made a square board with wheels on the bottom for me to scoot around on. It wasn't long and I left the board behind and was scooting around on my own. Even after I got my braces, I would come home after school, and kick them off, much like you kick off your shoes, and scoot where I needed to go. I am sure some of my girlfriends and family will remember those days. My mom spent a lot of time cleaning tar and grass stains off the bottom of my clothes. Nothing stopped me. Barriers are things we create for ourselves. Were there things I could not do? Of course. But I didn't dwell on it, I just found another way to be involved. But trust me when I say, if there was something I really wanted to do...I found a way.
Oh and be careful what you wish for. You just might get it. Ride'em Cowboy!
Friday, September 2, 2011
A Mother's Worst Fear
I just had my second birthday. I'm sure my mom was thinking, "Here we go again, the terrible two's!" After living through it with my older brother, who could blame her. Just kidding. Had to get a dig in at the big brother, you know how it is! Anyway, it was a warm October day. It's what we call in the Midwest an Indian Summer Day. Mom had taken us for a little walk. Like most two year olds, everything went into my mouth along with my fingers. I had found an enchanting piece of used gum on the ground and immediately picked it up. My precious mommy, slapped it out of my hands and probably told me how nasty it was and so I then just put my fingers in my mouth. Well that's life for an average two-year-old and possibly the action that caused the most inconceivable reaction.
Next morning, bright and early, my older brother and best friend in the world came to get me up so we could go downstairs and have breakfast. That was our routine, only this particular morning I was not cooperating with him. As a four year old, this was very perplexing. He decided to bring mom in on it or just plain tattle. So she took him by the hand and they were off to investigate the situation. What she found had to have made her heart sink. For lying in the bed, was her precious baby girl, not able to move an inch or cry a tear.
She lifted me up and carried me down the stairs. I was a rag doll. She called our Dr. and he said he would be there soon. Yes, you heard me all you young people. The Dr. was going to come to the house. Just like Little House on the Prairie but you didn't need to send Pa. A simple phone call would do. Due to the polio epidemic the Dr. didn't make it there till evening. I was taken to the hospital and put in quarantine and not even my mother was allowed in. After a spinal tap, which I don't remember, thank goodness, their fears were confirmed. It was polio.
It was an old Catholic hospital. The nurses were Nuns, all in full habit. My mom rode the bus to the hospital everyday in hopes that she would be able to see her baby girl that day. But each day she was turned away. "No, not yet, maybe tomorrow." Finally she just couldn't take one more rejection. I wonder if she feared that I was even still alive and they were all too afraid to tell her the truth. So, she began to cry. An elderly nun, took compassion on her and said "Come with me". She took her to a window that led out onto the roof. The picture I have in my head of this old nun and my mom crawling out a window of this old hospital onto the roof, just makes me giggle. Standing on this roof, my mom looked through my window. She saw me and I saw her for the first time. Her heart rejoiced and my heart cried out, for the first time. I had made a sound. It was time to celebrate. So began the long recovery.
Next morning, bright and early, my older brother and best friend in the world came to get me up so we could go downstairs and have breakfast. That was our routine, only this particular morning I was not cooperating with him. As a four year old, this was very perplexing. He decided to bring mom in on it or just plain tattle. So she took him by the hand and they were off to investigate the situation. What she found had to have made her heart sink. For lying in the bed, was her precious baby girl, not able to move an inch or cry a tear.
She lifted me up and carried me down the stairs. I was a rag doll. She called our Dr. and he said he would be there soon. Yes, you heard me all you young people. The Dr. was going to come to the house. Just like Little House on the Prairie but you didn't need to send Pa. A simple phone call would do. Due to the polio epidemic the Dr. didn't make it there till evening. I was taken to the hospital and put in quarantine and not even my mother was allowed in. After a spinal tap, which I don't remember, thank goodness, their fears were confirmed. It was polio.
It was an old Catholic hospital. The nurses were Nuns, all in full habit. My mom rode the bus to the hospital everyday in hopes that she would be able to see her baby girl that day. But each day she was turned away. "No, not yet, maybe tomorrow." Finally she just couldn't take one more rejection. I wonder if she feared that I was even still alive and they were all too afraid to tell her the truth. So, she began to cry. An elderly nun, took compassion on her and said "Come with me". She took her to a window that led out onto the roof. The picture I have in my head of this old nun and my mom crawling out a window of this old hospital onto the roof, just makes me giggle. Standing on this roof, my mom looked through my window. She saw me and I saw her for the first time. Her heart rejoiced and my heart cried out, for the first time. I had made a sound. It was time to celebrate. So began the long recovery.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Finders Keepers
I never really liked that game of Finders Keepers. Somehow it just didn't seem fair unless, of course, I was the one finding. But what you will find in my blog will be for you to keep for as long as you want or can remember it, which would be till tomorrow in my case.
I was born in 1950 so I am a classic "Baby Boomer". This makes me 60 about to turn 61 for all those who are math challenged like myself. It's funny how on paper you are classified as a senior citizen but on the inside you feel like you're still 20. This is where I have an advantage over some of you. Sense I have spent most of my life on wheels, my knees and hips are not about to give out. It seems like everyone is getting their knee or knees replaced. My worry is a flat tire. But bing-bada-boom and it's fixed, (a couple hundred dollars later I might add). Being disabled does not come cheap but I am so grateful for the technology of today that allows me to be very independent.
So what you will find here are some funny or touching but always true stories, some scripture that has been special to me and stories of the many wonderful people who have left their footprints on my life. That was going to be the name of one of the several books I started, "Footprints on My Life". Pretty good, huh? Too bad I never wrote it.
So tomorrow we will go back to the fall of 1952. The day that this journey began. The day I woke up completely paralyzed. So talk to you then. In the meantime, God Bless You
I was born in 1950 so I am a classic "Baby Boomer". This makes me 60 about to turn 61 for all those who are math challenged like myself. It's funny how on paper you are classified as a senior citizen but on the inside you feel like you're still 20. This is where I have an advantage over some of you. Sense I have spent most of my life on wheels, my knees and hips are not about to give out. It seems like everyone is getting their knee or knees replaced. My worry is a flat tire. But bing-bada-boom and it's fixed, (a couple hundred dollars later I might add). Being disabled does not come cheap but I am so grateful for the technology of today that allows me to be very independent.
So what you will find here are some funny or touching but always true stories, some scripture that has been special to me and stories of the many wonderful people who have left their footprints on my life. That was going to be the name of one of the several books I started, "Footprints on My Life". Pretty good, huh? Too bad I never wrote it.
So tomorrow we will go back to the fall of 1952. The day that this journey began. The day I woke up completely paralyzed. So talk to you then. In the meantime, God Bless You
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Let's Begin
So many times in my life people have said, "You ought to write a book" or "Your life is like a soap opera." Now that can't be good! Several times I have started a book but just lose my momentum and quit. One thing I have never been is a quitter. So, inspired by the movie Julie & Julia, I am blogging. No I am not going to cook my way through Julia's cookbook. Even if I did, it would be more like Taste of Home. Don't you love those? Anyway, I will be blogging about my past, present and future but I am sure there won't be much future in it. Well, you know what I mean.
I am a polio survivor! I had polio before the vaccine. Some of you are saying "What is polio?" while others are thinking, "Wow! She is really old." I will answer those questions as time goes on. "How can she say she is blessed to have had polio?' That too will come out in the days ahead. For you see, I am in a wheelchair but am truly, truly blessed.
So stay tuned as I try my best to be a blessing to you.
I am a polio survivor! I had polio before the vaccine. Some of you are saying "What is polio?" while others are thinking, "Wow! She is really old." I will answer those questions as time goes on. "How can she say she is blessed to have had polio?' That too will come out in the days ahead. For you see, I am in a wheelchair but am truly, truly blessed.
So stay tuned as I try my best to be a blessing to you.
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