Out with the Old

Old winter clothes have to go.

It’s that glorious time of year in Georgia when warmer days prompt the trees to burst forth with color. I feel bad for my friends and family up north still stuck with below freezing temps and wrapped up in quilts and heavy sweaters. But I can’t wait to purge my closet of its drab clothes in favor of brighter ones. When I pack up my flannels, corduroys, heavy sweaters, and fleece I declare that winter is in its last gasp and will soon give way to the warmer days of spring and summer. I recently took two days and several trips up and down to the basement closet to make the swap. About the time I started the task, the thermometer took another plunge below freezing just to remind me who’s in charge.

Old eating habits have to go.

Climbing those stairs gave me some much needed exercise and made me realize how out of shape I am. Too many carbs and too many days piled in the recliner wrapped in a quilt have taken a toll on my body. Trying on some of last year’s clothes has been very painful. Well, let’s put in plainly—they don’t fit.  Ugh—I have to lose weight. It’s time to cut way back on the comfort food of winter and lighten up my diet with lots more fruit and veggies. It’s also time to take that daily walk to help burn some calories. How about a walk around the Mall instead looking at all the pretty new clothes?  The only problem is they won’t fit either.

Old ways of thinking have to go.

For the past few weeks our church has focused on the Sermon on the Mount during this Lenten season leading up to Easter. The words of Jesus in the book of Matthew have challenged my way of thinking. The eight Beatitudes or blessings in Matthew 5:1-10 tells the ways I am to live in relationship to God and to others. When I put into practice the challenge of the each Beatitude, I receive a blessing from the hand of God. The lesson of each Beatitude is not to focus on
self, but to focus on those around me. In our self-oriented, me-first society, it is indeed a new way of thinking. As you prepare for Easter Sunday and the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, consider His words from the Sermon on the Mount.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Have a Blessed Easter.

Under the Microscope

When I agreed to be interviewed by my niece and her boyfriend—two first-year Mercer medical students—about my liver transplant, I didn't think it would be too challenging. In fact I was honored to have been chosen as a specimen for their research paper.

As we proceeded through the interview, I realized that the clinical questions would be few and that most of the questions revolved about feelings and perceptions. I really had to dig through my past and unearth emotions that I hadn't thought about in years. It was painful to remember how I felt not knowing if or when I would qualify for a donor liver and being fearful that I wouldn't survive the ordeal. I was asked how having a terminal disease affected my family life and how they reacted to that knowledge. Because in the early years of my disease I had two young sons, I had to be strong for them as well as myself. It was a time of wanting to be dependent on others, but because I was a widow for much of that time, realizing I only had myself and my relationship with God to sustain me. 

We also discussed the role and the work required of Charles, my second husband and caregiver. He married me knowing that I would need a transplant. After one year of marriage, I went into a rapid decline that led to me being placed on the national transplant list. He devoted much of his time and energy into transporting me back and forth to Emory Hospital for all the required testing and checkups. It seemed like he had to make that hour-long drive in Atlanta traffic at least once a week. We couldn't plan anything not knowing if and when a donor liver would be available. I never would have made it through the long ordeal without all this care and support.

Then the line of questioning moved into my post-transplant years. I explained how difficult it was to adjust to all the new drugs surging through my body, along with the lack of sleep that accompanied those drugs. I wanted to reclaim the years I had lost to disease, but some days I still struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Because I was immune suppressed I was always afraid of infection or that my body would reject my new liver.Those fears lessened over time as my lab reports showed that my body was adjusting very well to my donor liver.

From time to time I have some anxious thoughts about how long my borrowed liver will stay healthy. I often think about my donor family and the loss that they experienced.Then I remember how far God has brought me from that day in 1981 when I was told I had a terminal liver disease. He has never let me down and each day I choose to place my future in His loving and faithful hands. I just pray that I will faithfully serve Him with how ever many days I have left.

Happy To Be Writing

When I sit at my computer to write my blog, a short story, or book I completely lose track of time and am able to forget about everything else. I just thought it was my form of escapism. 

An internet article titled Writing Your Way to Happiness written by Tara Parker-Pope tells of recent scientific studies that show that engaging in creative writing has health benefits as well.

Parker-Pope writes:

“The scientific research on the benefits of so-called expressive writing is surprisingly vast. Studies have shown that writing about oneself and personal experiences can improve mood disorders, help reduce symptoms among cancer patients, improve a person’s health after a heart attack, reduce doctor visits and even boost memory.”

What is it about putting words down on paper that is a life game changer? Since I've been writing regularly for the past seven years, I decided to interview myself to see how writing has benefitted me. 

•   You started out by writing your memoir—what did you learn in the process?          “Perspective!  I learned that my life was like a puzzle with a lot of pieces scattered about.             By putting the pieces of the puzzle down on paper, events and circumstances started making     sense. I discovered that time has to pass in order for a true perspective to be gained.”

• How has writing made you a happier person?                                                                      “When I published my book, it opened doors for speaking so that I could share my life lessons   with others. There is also a sense of satisfaction that I am leaving my written words as a            legacy for future generations. Writing on my blog helps me stay connected to family and            friends and that always makes me happy.”

Since I am working with my husband, Charles to compile his memories for a future book, I decided to ask him the same questions.

     ·  What have you learned so far in the process of writing down your memories?

       “I’m finding out what molded my life and am discovering that God has been directing me all               along. I agree that my memory has been boosted as I am able to recall vivid detail about my                 life.”

     ·      Has writing your memories made you a happier person?

        “I’ve always been a happy, optimistic person. I don’t think writing has added to that except that            once my book is published, I hope it will benefit others with their life struggles. That will make          me happy.”

So if you are dealing with a problem or trying to put the past behind you, cozy up to a pad and pen or your mouse and laptop and let it all hang out. It can be much cheaper and less trouble than getting professional help.

PS.  I am so happy I was inspired to write this blog and get it posted before my self-imposed February 28 deadline.  J

Sacrificial Love

It’s Valentine’s Day—a time to share hearts, flowers, chocolates, and words about romantic love. Just like every other female, I like that stuff.  But the best gifts I ever received were not perishable like flowers and chocolates, but touched and changed my life in ways I never imagined. Three times when I was in desperate need, I received three amazing gifts of sacrificial love.

The word sacrificial is described in the dictionary as: “the act of giving up something that you want to keep especially in order to get or do something else or to help someone.”

My first experience with sacrificial love occurred when I was 21 years old, and found myself struggling to make sense of my life and wanting hope for a better future. After searching in many places, I realized that God was offering me the free gift of his sacrificial love. He gave up all the glories of heaven and came to earth as Jesus to die on cross so that I could have eternal life. All I had to do was accept His life changing gift. I now have meaning and purpose each day that I never before imagined.

Sacrificial love came again into my life when I was in my early fifties and I was facing a bleak future because of terminal liver disease. For many years I had felt a sense of impending doom knowing that my life’s time clock was rapidly ticking down. I was widowed and an empty nester and at times felt very alone as I faced a very uncertain future and a scary liver transplant. No man in his right mind marries a woman with terminal liver disease, but that is exactly what happened to me. God sent Charles into my life at just the right time. We both risked it all not knowing how long we would have together and after almost nineteen years of marriage are convinced more than ever that we made the right decision.

Two years later I received the blessing of sacrificial love again when I was admitted to the hospital to wait for a liver transplant. A family of strangers in the midst of their grief and loss made a decision to donate their daughter’s organs. My transplanted liver enabled me to regain my health and have a second chance at life. The thank you letter I wrote anonymously to my donor family could not adequately express the overwhelming emotion of gratitude that I still feel even to this day. 

I am challenged every day to show sacrificial love to those around me, so that they too can pass it on to others. Those deeds will last long after February 14 has come and gone.

You can read the rest of my story in my memoir “Born Three Times–A New Life, A New Liver, A New Love.” 

Order it from Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Born-Three-Times-Life-Liver-ebook/dp/B00A3UBK9C/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1423938011&sr=1-1&keywords=Born+Three+Times

"Snow" Back Thursday

One of the most popular posts on Facebook is Throwback Thursday. People usually post photos taken in their younger years, which is a fun way of creating an online gallery of their lives. In honor of the Snow Blizzard that bore down on my home state of New York this week, I thought I thought I’d share some “snow” back memories from my years growing up in the Empire State. 

I spent the first six years of my life in a very small town (maybe 300 people) one mile from the Canadian border in upper New York State.  Winter was always a challenging time for my family, but as a kid I enjoyed it thoroughly. Even in the winter I loved to play with my cousins on my grandparents’ front porch. The snow dripping from the roof onto the porch overhang would refreeze at night and produce amazing stalactite and stalagmite icicles as big as six inches around and three or four feet long. We would break off a length of ice to hold in our mittens to suck on and sometimes to use as a sword. We totally ignored the taste of roof soot in our Popsicle.

The annual Sugar Social at the Methodist Church was a much anticipated event. In March when the maple sap was rising in the trees, it was collected in buckets, then boiled down to make thick syrup. Fresh snow was gathered in big metal pans and the syrup was poured on the snow instantly making maple syrup taffy—a delicious treat. 

I fought many battles from the snow forts I helped to construct. A mound of snowballs was stored for the inevitable snowball fight that would follow. It was mostly the boys against the girls and sometimes I was on the winning side.

I moved away from that rural lifestyle and eventually ended up in Georgia where snow is an exception and not the rule. One winter I returned to the place of my birth to visit my father who was very sick with cancer. The closest airport to my small town was several hours away, so my sister and I had to drive on icy roads to reach our destination. Snow drifts covered all the surrounding farmland as far as my eye could see. The full moon rose over the horizon and cast an ethereal glow on the snow laden fields. It was a beautiful sight and a much needed reminder of God’s beauty in the midst of human suffering.

Here’s hoping for snow this year in Georgia—enough to shut down the roads for a few days, but not enough to affect the power lines. The world will stop and peace and quiet will prevail until the temperature rises again. 

A Bible verse about snow:  Isaiah 55:10-11 "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.”

Chills, Pills & Bills

Hal Borland, Author and New York Times journalist once said:

“Summer is a promissory note signed in June,

Its long days spent and gone before you know it,

and due to be repaid next January.”

With the temperatures in the single digits and the flu knocking on our door, I wished I had bottled the blue skies and warm temperatures of last year’s June and saved it for this year’s January. A friend posted on Facebook that she wasn't leaving her house until the temperature exceeded her age. I responded that I would see her in May.

The last time I ventured out in the bitter cold was to take my late bloomer husband to “urgent care” and then to the drugstore to stand in line for our doses of Tamiflu. He's sick but I am taking the anti-viral as preventative medication. After all somebody has to make the Chicken Soup.

 January is normally one of my favorite months of the year. The short-cold days are really a blessing enabling me to concentrate on my ought-to-do list. After the busyness of the holidays, I like to regroup and organize my dysfunctional house. The pantry, drawers, and closets are badly in need of being cleaned out. The problem is deciding what comes first. There is so much to do, I am easily distracted and flit from one project to another. As a result nothing gets done completely—just enough that I can call it quits and live with the mess a while longer.

One of my biggest chores is organizing our 2014 bills and paperwork so that we can begin estimating our quarterly taxes. I’d rather get a root canal and the cost wouldn't be much different. Then I get to shred a box full of papers containing personal information. My office will look like it snowed in there by the time I’m done.

My foremost desire for 2015 involves two more rhyming words: "Quills" and "Stills." I want to pick up my “Quill” and finish writing my latest book, then organize the boxes of “Stills” begging to be put into scrapbooks and digitized.  But first I shall turn on the fireplace, fix a cup of hot tea, and enjoy the “Thrill” of having a warm house and the good health to enjoy all the blessings of January.

The Remains of the Day

Why is it a surprise to wake up the day after Christmas and be a little overwhelmed by the remains of the day? So much effort and preparation has gone into making a holiday to remember, the ordinary things of life have been neglected. Now it’s time to “face the music.” I have yet to figure out how people have enough time and energy to rush to the after Christmas sales. I've seen enough malls and stores to last awhile. However, I am tempted to visit online stores and spend my gift cards. But first I must deal with household clutter, leftover food, and paperwork. I tell myself it will be easier to tackle the unpleasant if I dwell on all the joyful and fun events of the past few weeks.

Then I remember, there are only five days left in the month of December and the beginning of the New Year. Writing my last blog post of the year suddenly seems much more important that cleaning up all the clutter. So I back away from the broom and mop and try to get my creative juices flowing.

The lead up to the holidays started on Veteran’s Day weekend when Frieda’s son and family came from Toronto, Canada for a pre-Thanksgiving visit. Since the Canadian school holidays are different than ours, we had to celebrate earlier than usual. Did you know that the Veteran’s Day sales are as good as Black Friday sales? We ate and shopped until I dropped. During the next few weekends we had visits from my nieces and grandchildren from Charles’ side of the family. At Thanksgiving, Frieda’s college-age granddaughter came to visit. More shopping, cooking, and eating concluded with the realization there were only 28 days until Christmas. And you know the rest of the story – four more weeks of shopping, cooking, and eating. 

The remains of the day are looking pretty good right now. The leftovers mean I have at least a two day reprieve from cooking; the household clutter will eventually be put in order and I have a warm, comfortable house to keep it in. The receipts will get organized and there is enough money to pay the bills. Soon all of that will be history, but the warm glow from being with family and friends will last long after the ball drops on New Year’s Eve.

Thanks for following my blog “Two Late Bloomers” this past year. As I enter my third year of posting, I continue to be challenged to write fresh and interesting material. Your feedback is always appreciated. My goal is to do more writing in 2015. What’s on your agenda for the New Year?