Posts Tagged ‘illness’

FREE Kindle Ebook for Mother’s Day May 7 & 8

May 7 and 8 are upon us!

Download your FREE Kindle copy of The Last Violet: Mourning My Mother, Moving Beyond Regret at http://www.ow.ly/vfH8E. This version was beautifully formatted by Gary Hall of http://www.greystrokecreative.com. If you don't have a Kindle, you can download to your computer without charge.

It is interesting to me to see that some of what I wrote in this book as a daughter is now being played out in my own life. How could I have known when I wrote The Last Violet that I was writing a guidebook for myself? 

Vignette

Helplessly I watch

as they make their mad dash

to the bathroom

her pale, thin arm clutching his

their weary feet shuffling

over the light Berber carpet

their bodies stopped with

the weight of many years

They've been together since

they were very young

sometimes they've been happy

sometimes not

but here they walk side by side

as cancer interrupts

whatever they were doing

as cancer eats her body

and tears his heart

"In sickness and in health," they vowed

"until death do us part," they vowed

Helplessly I watch

and then

I go into the kitchen and weep…

(Excerpted from The Last Violet: Mourning My Mother)

My Marriage Book – FREE Download Today

Today's the day! You can click on http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BT4P0SI and download a FREE copy of This Path We Share: Reflecting on 60 Years of Marriage for your KindleGary Hall formatted it beautifully for eBook. (Find Gary at http://www.greystrokecreative.com.) I am pleased that This Path has seventeen five-star reviews so far and has won three awards.

I worked for a long time on this book. Years longer than I worked on the other two. Perhaps I was afraid that if I finished the book, the story would end. Finally I realized that if I did not complete it before either Les or I took seriously ill or died, I never would. I finished the book. Unfortunately all stories do end. 

I worked especially hard on the last chapter. I wanted it to be just right. And I toiled intently on the last three words. For days, actually. (Of course I won't tell you what they are right now. Gentle smile).

And as it turns out, they were easier said than done.

I hope you find encouragement, entertainment, and, maybe, even a little inspiration.

And Happy Valentine's Day!

(If you don't have a Kindle, you can download one for your PC.)

Death of a Friend

Almost two weeks ago, I had a distinct nudging to visit a friend of ours. 

Les and I have belonged to a small support group through our church since 1969. Of the original nine couples and one single, seven of the men and three women had died. Floyd, the one remaining man beside Les, had been having a rough spring and we had wanted to visit him and his lovely Lynette in Loveland, Colorado.

Since Les' November brush with mortality, his subsequent pacemaker, and various ups and downs, our doctor had asked us to stay close to medical care in the Denver metropolitan area. Then in early April, with things somewhat stable, he gave us permission to drive to Loveland. We kept trying to make the trip. Denver had four snowstorms in April; Les had bad days. Things just weren’t working out.

Thursday, April 25, I woke with this strong urge. The weather was good; Les was okay. So we went. Floyd and Lynette seemed grateful that we had come. Floyd had entered hospice care the evening before, but he was up walking around, sitting in a chair, talkative, peaceful. The four of us and son Galen shared deeply. Les and I felt the visit was meant to be. Whether or not Floyd and Lynn needed us, we needed them.

On April 30 Floyd died. I want to share with you, my dear readers, the poem I read at his service:

 For Floyd

We can’t believe you’re gone –
hospice, yes, but only six days?
You were just here – alert, alive, aligned
ready to go, most surely, but still participating

You were such a good man –

Working hard and faithfully over the years   
an expert with your hands
building beautiful things
gracing this space with mailboxes,
coffee mug shelves, the reusable casket

Loyal to your church, your friends, your family
generous, giving, always game for another adventure
another trip, another house, another state

You were such a good man –

steadfast in faith
confident in convictions, vocal in opinions
You weren’t always right, but you were resolute

You battled through cancer and heart attacks
and surgeries with more grace and courage
than most of us could manage

You were such a good man –

We honor you in your unwavering love for Lynette –
with gratitude for how you cared for her, protected her,
and lent her your staunch warmth and unshakable strength

Happy trails, dear friend, our love and tears go with you –   
pile into the motor home of immortality
bluegrass blasting, the fishing streams of Paradise forever filled

May you discover heaven to be lovelier than the hills of Arkansas
and may you find the most amazing adventures ad infinitum

amen

Lois Tschetter Hjelmstad
May 4, 2013

 

 

 

An Anniversary I Didn’t Want

Today is April 6. Twenty-four years hasn't made a lot of difference. I wish it weren't this particular anniversary. Nothing much has changed. And yet everything changed. 

Let me share an excerpt from Fine Black Lines:

"On the morning of April 6, 1989, I had an unusual sense of well-being–renewal was evident in the cherry blossoms, the tender leaves, and the gentle warmth. I felt particularly well. But when I got up from a short nap at 3:30 p.m., I knew I was ill. I taught the evening piano lessons as usual. By the time I finished teaching my fever was 104 degrees. My desire to lie down was the strongest I had ever experienced, but I could not stand the weight of even a sheet on my body.

"I assumed I had the flu. It didn't even occur to me to go to the doctor. I thought, I'll just stay in bed over the weekend and I'll be fine by Monday. After four days I felt a bit better and my fever had returned to almost normal, so I resumed my regular schedule–I didn't want to get behind, with the Spring Recital only weeks away.

"Six days later I awoke with more intense pain, weakness, and lack of motion in my hands, wrists, knees, and ankles. I could barely pick my coffee cup, walk to the bathroom, or stay out of bed. By evening, a dense purple rash covered my lower legs. The clinic nurse practitioner did not have a clue what was wrong. Neither did anyone else.

"For five months I was periodically tested for Lyme disease and other possible causes for the continuing sore throat, headache, low-grade fevers, joint pain, overwhelming malaise, and other assorted symptoms. In September my new internist diagnosed Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS).

"I was relieved to have a name for the problem. I was not relieved to think of having something about which so little was known and for which there was so little help."

Nothing has changed and yet everything has.

To be continued…

Breast Cancer Is No Joke

Myth – Breast cancer is not a serious disease.

Donna Peach has a new article that speaks to the way breast cancer has been trivialized in some circles to the point that people almost have the impression that no one dies from it these days. The fact is that around 40,000 women and about 400 men still die from breast cancer every year. (Obviously, I have been one of the lucky ones so far. And so have you if you're reading this.)

Breast cancer events are often touted as fun, celebrations, victories. There are balloons and streamers and pink hats. (Granted, I have also seen tears.)

Breasts are referred to by any number of trivializing names. "Boobs" is one.  Donna mentions several other popular and weird ones.

If you have had breast cancer or know someone who has, you will be interested in reading her thoughts. 

And tomorrow I'll post a poem for all of you. Promise.