Mending

We’re thankful that Eileen’s mother (Eunice) came through surgery for her broken hip well. She is a strong lady and by the grace of God we expect that she’ll heal well and progress through her rehab remarkably well. Eileen has spoken to Eunice several times; she seems to be doing better each time although being nauseated after surgery. Although Eileen has nine siblings and their families to help tend to Eunice, we wish we lived close enough to help too. That is a distinct downside to living so far away. So, about all we can do is to offer our prayers for a speedy recovery, offer love to Eunice and the family, and offer thankfulness to God and those tending to Eunice.

Visiting

We are having a great time visiting our son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter (Lindsay). When we arrived at their house, Lindsay greeted us with a big smile. She has a very quick smile and she is especially responsive to her dad and mom. We went for a walk across a nearby dam today which has a paved walkway on top of it for walkers and runners. It is a little over a mile across the dam. We took Lindsay in the stroller; it was a warm and delightful day. When we got back to their house I took a long nap. In other news, we got word last night that Eileen’s mother fell and broke her hip. She was able to drag herself to a phone and call for help. She had surgery this morning to have a rod inserted. Eileen spoke to her mother both last night and this evening. We pray for a fast and complete recovery.

Granddaughter

Our three month old granddaughter is missing us very much. Of course she can’t tell us but there are just some things that grandparents know. Did I say grandparents? We don’t seem old enough to say that!! Anyway, we are heading to see our granddaughter (and her parents) later today and will gone through the weekend. It’s a little over three hours to get there…not too bad of a drive. I wish I would have slept last night because there is not much time for a nap today; I have too many things which need to get done. One of the things I need to do is pay bills. It seems these bills keep coming whether we have other plans or not, and whether we want the bills to come or not. Do you have that problem?

Handicap Parking

I had coffee yesterday morning with a friend. Okay, I had coffee and an English muffin. As I was getting out of my car, my cell phone fell from its clip which was attached to my belt. The clip had pulled through the phone case like a popped button. The case was torn and there would be no repairing it. My phone is several years old and the battery doesn’t hold a charge very well. So, my friend and I decided to ride over and see if Best Buy had any specials on phones. They did. With a contract renewal I purchased my new phone for one single dollar. But that’s not the story I’m blogging about. We arrived to the store a few minutes before its opening time of ten o’clock. We sat in the car directly opposite the handicap parking but in another row. Soon a car pulled into a handicap spot with a Disabled Veteran license plate. My friend had the audacity to prognosticate that the lady in the car would not be disabled. Soon the lady in her thirties popped out like a rabbit and dashed off into another direction. My friend was right. Then, it wasn’t too much later that another car pulled into a handicap spot. My friend doubted this person too as we watched her hang a handicap placard onto the rearview mirror. I think she saw us watching her; maybe it was my friend pointing at her that gave it away!! Just kidding; he didn’t point. Nevertheless, she just sat there. The store opened and so we got out of the car and walked past her. We stopped at the store entrance and peeked back to see if she was getting out of the car. Not yet. Once secluded inside the store, we stood back, watched, and waited. Soon the young lady in her twenties sprang from her car. In summation, we saw two people pull into handicap parking spots with handicap insignia, but both walking more spryly than either my friend or me!! My friend remarked, “No wonder there are so many handicap parking spots. There needs to be enough spots for the ones who park there but don’t need it!!” I don’t know if you have ever helped someone get out of a car and into a wheelchair or into their walker, but handicap spots are very useful not only for their proximately but also for their width in which to maneuver handicap equipment. I wish we would leave the handicap parking spots to the handicapped and even the close parking spots to the the old people and mothers toting young children. Just because we may have access to a handicap placard or license plate doesn’t mean we should use it, especially when the person it’s intended for is not even in the vehicle.

Broken Glass

Sometimes I forget that my new readers to the blog have missed out on a year-and-a-half worth of blog posts. Therefore, I periodically get emails like I did the other day wanting to know if my arm problem is related to my cancer. It is not. As a brief synopsis... my arm problem is a separate problem that has its genesis in a childhood injury. I went through a window in which I sustained a severed axillary artery and brachial nerve plexus in my right armpit. It was a severe laceration in which I “bled out” by the time I reached the hospital. Because of the extent of the injury, and the lack of oxygen to my right arm/hand muscles, I ended up with a significant arm impairment. Over the ensuing years, with countless arm surgeries, I regained much of my function. Unbeknownst to anyone, however, my bones were becoming brittle. One day my wrist collapsed, crushing my wrist bones. After several operations, my wrist was fused and I also lost most of the function of the fingers in my right hand. In addition, I sustained a complex neurovascular condition which shuts the blood supply down to my right arm and hand (Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy). Although my battle with Gleevec is not pleasant and is a source of great angst and consternation, it pales in comparison to the battle with my right arm. If my Gleevec symptoms ever get as severe, obstinate, and repulsive as my arm, then something will have to change. So, my arm pain is unrelated to my cancer except in my dealing with the cacophony of problems as a whole. By itself though, my arm issues are separate from my cancer. By and large, cancer withstanding, much of my life has been viewed and lived through the pane of broken glass.

Neighbor

As people clamor for more and more from the government, I wonder how often we stop and ask, “Who is this ‘government’ to which we are bellowing”? Unfortunately, we often presume it to be some faceless entity which is the source of all goodness for Americans. We just have to squeeze it or cajole it enough to give to us what we desire. In reality though, everything we request from the government we are really requesting from our neighbors to give to us...our taxpaying neighbors that is. It seems Americans’ spirit of independence has taken a direct hit and we look to our collective neighbors for our sustenance and comfort. Perhaps we can convince ourselves that, in essence, taking from our neighbors is their charitable obligation to us. Yet, if something is taken from one and given to another...it isn’t charity; it’s taken. Charity is free-will giving as is love. We can no more force a person to extend charity to us than we can force them to love us. Clearly, it isn’t charity or love if it is forced or required. Regardless of what we call it though, it’s our adoptive mentality which is of concern. We’ve adopted the idea that we first turn to others rather turn to ourselves, God, or yes... even do without. This mentality that America is developing, a dependent society --- dependent upon the productive --- is a dangerous trek for us. It has been our, pardon the pun, declaration of independence to be free of dependence on government and others which is at the marrow of this great nation. It is from which charity and a helping hand was a gift from the soul rather than an entitlement from the government and thus our neighbor. Our Lord Jesus was asked, “Who is my neighbor?” His response was the parable of the Good Samaritan. It wasn’t the parable of the Good Government.