Stubborn Old Folks

My husband and I had lunch yesterday at one of our favorite lunch spots, Famous Dave’s.  They have fabulous barbecue, and we go every Friday for lunch, often picking up some lunch for my sis to drop off at her house.

He seemed to have trouble getting up, and I offered to help.  I swear he almost snarled at me.

“I don’t need help!”

Well, I rolled my eyes, and we went on our way slowly.

It’s not uncommon for elderly couples to help one another get out of a seat, or with groceries, or other tasks that come up.  But, I don’t know, we seem to be two of a kind.  Because today, after grocery shopping, he offered to help.  And, of course, I said, I’ll be fine, and continued to bring in the grocery bags.  They weren’t bad this week anyway.

Then I recalled that Friday lunch.  I know neither of us will ask for help, and don’t want help.

What we want is to be fully functional as we’ve always been.  Even though it’s becoming clear we aren’t so young anymore, or so independent.

Frankly, he’s always been a gift from God to me, because we fit, and he’s provided everything I’ve ever needed.  Including independence to do what I choose with my time, and lots of quiet, so I can blog, or read, or do research as I choose.  Always supported my art projects, and always supported our children.  And grandchildren, as well.  Allowed me to homeschool those grandkids, and we enjoyed that so much, took many trips, saw many things, explored and learned so much.

God is good.  And He sent me an angel.  One who insists he can do everything by himself, even though he’s bent over, can’t stand straight from failed back surgery, in chronic pain, and now has COPD.  He’s stubborn.

Like me.  We fit.  60 years we’ve fit.  I love the guy.

Been a While, but I had a Dream

Sometimes in dreams the strangest things happen.  And I’ve never attempted to interpret them, or try to figure out what they mean.  But this one?

My sis and her husband, both having grave medical conditions, have a car with a dead battery.  Now, that’s true.

And I talked her into taking it to NTB which stands for National Tire and Battery, to replace the battery.  Once I got it started, that is, with my handy dandy Halo starter switch.

When we got there, in the parking lot, there was her plane, a WWII wreck that could still pick up off the ground and fly briefly now and then.  I’ve no idea why it was in the NTB parking lot!  I just knew she loved the plane so much, even if it was a wreck.

We were told by the technician, that the battery would be $300, and that would fix the car, and keep it running.

But she wouldn’t do it.  Needed the $300 to fly a short distance, so spending it on a car battery was not an option.  Not in her book.

We discussed, argued, and reasoned the issue, and in any event, the car had to make it back home with a bum battery, so I’d have to use my Halo again to get it started just for that.  And then, it would be permanently dead.  Unless she relented and made a sensible decision.

Now, they were both in bad shape, physically, and in pain all the time.  Couldn’t even manage without a walker, and I couldn’t understand the stubbornness at all.  The car was obviously more important to their actual daily functioning.

But the plane was more important to them.

Eventually, in the argument, she said, “You don’t understand, do you?  The daily grind is just daily grind.  Merely surviving!  I’ve had enough of that for all eternity!  That plane represents FREEDOM!  That plane will lift me off the ground, and fly me around like a bird, and I NEED that plane!  It’s my hope, my dream, my possibility of escaping this daily grind, and GOING SOMEPLACE whether or not I ever come back! ”

And I saw it.  I saw the two of them climb aboard, and lift off!

What’s remarkable about the dream is I recall every moment of it when I awoke.  That’s rare.  And it scared me.  We seldom agree on anything, but I love my sis.

Holiday Season in Full Swing Here

And I’ve ordered all my gifts, mostly delivered to other around the country, and am still waiting on a few to wrap here, but really, it’s almost done.  Yesterday, we got our popcorn, and like some of the other gifts I’ve gotten, there was no clue who the sender was.  But, I do know.  It’s what my sweet next door neighbors always send us every year!  And the books, of course, I know came from my darling daughter and her family.  I was so lost in one of them, struggling because it is a big book, a history, Great Society, by Amity Shlaes, and it was compelling, well written, detailed, and heavy, with tiny, tiny print on large pages….but I struggled through 300 pages before a friend found a digital copy online, and surprised me with it.  So, I finished up in my old trusty faithful kindle.  I can usually read a regular book if it’s not too big, but arthritis in the hands, and neck make those big books difficult these days.

Such a good book, though.  History we should all know and understand.  Those were not evil guys, the ones who wanted to solve the problems of poverty, and most were avowed anti-communists.  But their programs were clearly not successful, however well meaning they were.  And the book explains gently why and how they failed.  Even included the fact that most were themselves disappointed and dismayed at the results.  This was the beginning though, of huge growth in government, and government power and programs, NGO’s sucking up taxpayer money and advocating while sounding official, and it’s frustrating today that this system has developed that leaves out the voter entirely.  Just sucks up his money and is spent on partisan crap.

Well, political opinions aside, we are about to again celebrate the birth of our savior, Jesus.  His teaching, His sacrifice, His giving all for us, is the reason for the season.  All the love and family gatherings, giving, and celebrating is to acknowledge a loving Father in Heaven, from whom all good things flow.  Trees, grass, pets, flowers, ice crystals in the grass in the dark, stars in the night sky, the moon, the sun, the universe, water!  All the wonders of nature that we see and largely ignore are gifts from that heavenly Father.  Oh, and our lives.  We are all his children.  And our children, and their children.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for all your blessings, and your Son, whose sacrifice means so much.

Life is an Adventure, A Challenge

Can’t get over how much I now know that was just not there in my early years.  It’s astonishing how ignorant we were growing up.  We had some true blessings, like each other, and a stunningly courageous strong Mom, who is unforgettable.  We were taught about God, but it’s true and obvious today that God is in everything, and in ourselves, even when we don’t recognize it as a fact.

It takes time, growing up, and experience is the best teacher.  We have to figure our for ourselves so much, and we must, must, must make decisions that are scary.  We never know when we make a decision if it’s going to work out or be a bad experience, but it’s an adventure.  It will be a learning experience one way or the other.

God taught me so much, just by giving me a faithful true husband.  So much I learned was provided by opportunities flowing from that wedding, when I was a mere 19, high school drop out.

Who knew!  Who can guess five years from now, or ten what will happen, what will come our way!  Challenges galore, experience untold, and adventure all through the years!

If you take the challenge, if you do things instead of talking about it, you make mistakes, yes, but you learn.  And after a while, you will know God in everything.

Waking Thoughts, 3AM

Wish I could sometimes go back to sleep when that happens, instead of thinking.  But, thinking just won’t shut off then.  It’s ok.  Most of that, I’ve thought before.  It’s about skin.  We all have skin.  Doesn’t matter what color it is, it holds all the essence of our selves inside, and seldom lets any of it really leak out.  Oh, when we are young, yes, we dare to speak thoughts, and often get ridiculed, or reminded that of course, everyone has silly thoughts, and then we do more research, unless we are stubbornly holding onto our errant thoughts as though they were strongly held beliefs.  But, for the most part, by the time we’ve reached middle age, we look back on our earlier foolishness, and how we tried on thoughts, opinions, and ideas, and either through trial and error, or long experience and learning from living, we reject them soundly.

Astonishing that in this day and age, it’s verboten, not allowed, forbidden to do the same.  How can we grow?  How can we know what we haven’t learned?  How can we discover what is true if we can’t explore ideas, talk about thoughts and dreams and ideas freely?

This sack of skin, this shield, this protective layer can be trained to keep out germs and other bacterial crap, and protect the body, but it’s permeable to ideas, words, notions, thoughts of others, and these days, the young are so cheated out of natural opportunities to share speculations, suppositions, bits of experiences, among themselves, they turn instead to a tiny box of lunatic fringe ideation pumped out by tiktok or whatever silly app they use on their phones, and absorb the weirdest notions, while questioning, questioning, and questioning not the world, not their friend, but themselves, and doing it with such a critical eye, they mutilate themselves in the name of conforming, far too often.

I’m glad I grew up at a time when we could talk about things among ourselves, and not sit together staring at our little boxes instead.  I’d rather not be labeled bigot, racist, white supremacist, woke, lunatic fringe, conspiracy theorist because I “tried on” an idea, entertained a thought, examined a situation from more than one side.  I fear for my grandchildren, each a treasure and blessing sent by a loving God.  I fear for my children who will be here long after I’m gone watching society turn into something other than good old America.

We were once free here.  Are we now?