Curled Claws

Over Easter, my daughter placed on Facebook a fun picture of the manicures we had given ourselves. Supposedly it is one of the newest trends. We took special stickers, cut them to shape, heated them with a blow dryer and heated them on our nails. My nails now are in bright hues of turquoise, gold and magenta, a far cry from my usual pale pink. Let me tell you that a blow dryer gets mighty hot when held in place on your hands or feet. We had lots of fun and it was a great memory from our week out East.

When I glance at the photo, I’m immediately wondering who substituted the hands. I know my hands have aged, but when placed with Stephanie’s on top – Oh My Goodness! Even with the youthful nails, my hands are wrinkled, pudgy and bent. Each line shows a different season of my life and apparently, I’ve had a whole lot of seasons. The skin is splotchy and just plain not the hands of someone currently living on the planet Earth.

I’ve gradually noticed the increased aches in my fingers. It’s tough to move them around. They also lack much strength. Throughout the day, you can hear the many crashes that prove that statement. What’s really new though is their form, for my hands have curled. It’s difficult to straighten them out. Plus, touch them and notice the freezing temperature now a regular part of my phalanges.

Bob tried to warm them last night as once I again I complained about the cold pain that resides within my fingers. He made a sort of sandwich, that’s my hubby, always into the food one way or the other. He placed one of my hands between his two trying to bring warmth and comfort. Instead, the pain increased for I have difficulty straightening up the fingers. When did this occurrence happen? It is almost impossible for my hands to lie flat on a table. (Maybe they just need more chocolate!)

I figured that although there are a few drawbacks to curled claws at the ends of my arms, there are also many advantages. My fingers are now in the correct form whenever I am busy keyboarding at the computer. I can scoop up a perfect handful of M & M’s. If my doctor ever allows it, they would be great for swimming. They’re perfect for pull-ups, it’s just the rest of the body that can’t get up off the floor. My hands also fit around the credit cards very nicely. Best of all, they have been carved to hold the little hands of two very special grandsons. For that, thank you God. Life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

       -  My hands can grab hold of the chubby hands of my grandsons. What a spectacular feeling to have them so near at hand.

The Balance

There’s been a crazy lack of blogs lately, but that’s not because I was out in the world accomplishing some earth-shattering ideal. Don’t expect the following words to be packed with excitement for my days have lacked thrilling escapades.

We were out of town during the middle of this week. My daughter’s family will soon be moving to Indiana as her husband works and studies at Notre Dame. He will be actively training and encouraging college students in the ROTC program. They searched for a house to make a home. Results were not what was expected, but my daughter can and will make whatever house in which they reside into a loving home. I could not be prouder of her.

Bob and I learned lots of things these past days and have been humbled by our experiences. There is such a huge, intrinsic grand-maternal instinct that encompasses all my actions. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for those little rugrats, and I think they know that too! I’m glad. I want them to feel that unconditional love that mirrors their parents and God’s.

Teddy still each day reminded me in a very nonchalant manner that Jesus died but has risen for me. This moral has been deeply inscribed inside him. I’m curious how this will be displayed throughout the coming years. I pray that I will be able to observe it.

I loved our field trip to Target. I used the adventure to fill some time and spoil the kids. They have learned that Nanny buys special boxes of cookies for both boys. Their little smiles accomplish much. Items somehow fly into my cart with little persuasion needed. In some ways I feel that all Target stores should be dissolved because I can never enter their doors without spending way more than I originally expected. I can enter to pick up a bottle of makeup and leave with 46 bags of “stuff.” When I go with my fabulous grandsons, you can imagine what I look like when I leave. A semi usually follows my vehicle as I travel home with the happy kids.

Bob and I were there for our supposed grandkid watching skills. The exuberance of our grandsons outdid us though, and they managed to escape from our hotel rooms. The speed of toddlers is amazing. The two dogs were also in tow as these canines were prepared to protect the youngsters from all harm. Their returning parents quickly recovered all four with no harm to the little ones. Even so, shame humbled my slow bones, sore joints and wilted brain. I learned a lot this week, but it resides hidden in a corner of my heart. A large piece crumpled away.

I didn’t take my computer to South Bend, so this blog remained unchanged. We leave for California on Tuesday, but I promise to detail our actions in a more timely fashion. There are new lessons to be learned. Life is good.

God Uses Our Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

      - Life provides opportunities to raise my confidence and times to humble my ego. God provides that balance to insure life is good.   

Kitchen Turning Experiment

It’s been a tough couple of days for me. The weather is finally showing the tendencies we find more usually in April in the Midwest. That means the thunderstorms crashed into Chicago with amazing gusto. We have been spared the tornados that attacked other areas, but this weather surely attacked me. At least my meteorological body has some worth. My goal now is to survive these three fronts that are going through the area.

So here I am impatiently waiting for my body to retain at least a little bit of its humanity. My tired bones screech at each and every movement. Open up your windows to hear this high-pitched cry. Luckily my good ol’ stimulator is helping out some, but sometimes I have the strong tingle of a tens unit along with hips refusing to move. That’s not how it is supposed to work.

My migraine has returned full steam ahead. I’ve tried that hide in a dark bedroom routine with little luck. We tried to try the “lets go out in public” with Bob dragging me out of the house. It didn’t work. Unfortunately, it then welcomed the vertigo.

My vertigo is what is bringing me the most frustration. Falls on a hard wooden or tiled floor should be avoided. Bob attempts to catch me on the bounce, but he is not the speediest person to jump from the couch to grab me. He can usually get to me by the ninth or tenth bounce, but by then, the bruises have already formed.

Yesterday, I wobbled to the kitchen to just get some fruit to eat. That sounds like a simple task that my four-year-old grandson Teddy could actually accomplish in 3.9 seconds flat. I was not trying to obtain any speed records. Those screechy bones that I talked about earlier were soundly rooted in my body.

Here’s the part where I want audience, I mean reader, involvement. Get up from your couch, go to your kitchen, and open the refrigerator to prepare something easy and yummy. Don’t forget to get a bowl and spoon before you open that refrigerator door. Then back to the couch. Turn and sit! While you are doing all of the above, count how many times your body turns. It might shock you! I got as far as the getting the bowl before I needed to call to Bob to pick me up from the floor.

My head is better when it is tightly plastered against something, but that is a difficult posture to maintain while walking through the kitchen. My knees are often bent so I can attempt to maintain better balance. My turns generally take about 71 minutes to complete, so any nickname of Speedy or Gonzalez is totally meant in good-fun ridicule.

Noises around here seem amplified. Bob was just doing the dishes, so water was quickly running while silverware clanged into the dishwasher. His computer speakers were up so sheep and cows were feeling at home, loudly announcing their presence from Farmville. Our big saltwater tank had all the pumps running while the ancient family room ceiling fan had an annoying beat with the glass and the pulley thing. It really wouldn’t have been loud to 99% of the population, but I fought tears of pain while I grasped my head.

So go try that kitchen turning thing. You just might be surprised. If you find anything yummy in there, send it over. Happy turning. Life is good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

     -  I get to ask my readers to go play in their kitchens. Come on – that’s power.

My Broken Brain

My brain is broken. I’m trying to pretend that all is well, but as soon as I move around, you can readily see my efforts are in vain. In plainer language, my goofy symptoms of migraines, vertigo, tinnitus and degenerative disc syndrome are being broadcast over Times Square.

There are splashes of time when I wonder if I really need to be on a disability leave. Then an hour later, I get slapped with the reality of my life. I want to have some value in life and the manner in which I left my teaching job was less than spectacular. My chance of getting some future teaching position working with kids is slightly less than zilch. You see, my brain spins!

The weather around here was pretty nice today according to most people’s standings. A few white clouds burst through a blue sky and scattered throughout the heavens by a nice breeze. The only trouble with that is the breeze part. My brain doesn’t like it. If I am outside when there is even the slightest wind, it blows my hollow brain in all directions. I’m kind of like a horizontal pinwheel.

I originally began this blog with an attempt to let people know what it is like living with the Mighty Three. I’ve had these nutty symptoms for quite a few years, and I can finally start to forecast their advance. Before my vertigo goes full steam ahead, it feels as if my feeble little brain is beginning to twirl inside my head. The cranium feels ice cold as the brain pulls to speed around its axis. The migraine pushes along the path of my crooked halo.

I tried to venture outside some today to plant my three small containers of pansies and two herbs. It wasn’t a huge feat but it took its toll on me. You should have seen me huddled over my little herb garden with the hood of my spring coat tightly wrapped around my head. Bob was out there to help me inside and even little Einstein offered his services. That leaves me now snuggled down on our old couch trying to focus on this computer so I can use this posting as one thing that I accomplished.

So that’s my description of the onslaught of vertigo and migraines. Other people have a wide variety of initiations and mine can also vary on a different day. The moral of the story is to avoid wind. I’m a slow learner.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

       -  I have an excuse to stay inside and “veg” instead of working outside.

My Connecticut Crew

We have made it home safe and sound. I already miss the rumble of running feet. I can’t believe that I haven’t read 10 Apples Up on Top yet today since I have been home almost 20 hours. I feel so blessed getting the opportunity to see my family.

While in Connecticut, we were fortunate to get to see the maiden voyage of my son-in-law’s submarine. He has spent countless hours in preparing for this event. Building a submarine for the US Navy is no easy feat. His dedication, intelligence and patriotism radiates around him. Very few people get to ever watch a submarine leave the dock to head for deep seas. While talking with Chris, you could hear his pride when he made it home after the boat’s first run. He’s out again now doing further testing. I love you Chris and am blessed to have you as part of the family. Being a Cub fan sure helped!

My eldest grandson is Teddy, a bundle of joy. I never realized a tenth of the love I would feel for this little generation. He came into “my bedroom” each morning with greetings of “Good Morning Sunshine.” I hadn’t seen him since December so you can imagine the changes in this wonderful guy. His creativity has skyrocketed. When we first arrived at the airport, Teddy came running up to me with outstretched arms. That alone was worth the trip. I’ve written about our special Maundy Thursday service that has been forever etched in my heart. On the way to the airport, he asked if I remembered that Jesus had died for me. He firmly reminded me to not forget this important key event at the heart of Christianity.

Ollie is two years old, about exactly two years younger than his brother. At first his speech was slightly delayed, so he received speech services. Recent testing has shown that he has outgrown that need. Let me tell you, he surely talks now. At first his words seem garbled, but after listening a day or two, you quickly catch on. This little guy is a climber who is sure to add gray hairs to my daughter. His exuberance has already caused a trip or two to the emergency room, and I’m sure these visits will be repeated. To look at his huge smile explode over his face provides me with all of the pain medication that I need.

Then there is my tremendous daughter, Stephanie. She fears her popularity with me has dropped since she provided me with grandchildren, but she is far from correct. I’m in awe of the many things she does as a wife and mother. Their family is based on God so multiple key Bible verses can be seen taped on walls throughout her home. Both of the little ones knew more about Easter than many adults filling the pews this past Sunday. Stephanie and I gave ourselves fancy manicures and pedicures with these sticker things. I’m surprised that my nails look so nice after our laughter interrupted our own spa treatments. My heart is swelling much like that Christmas Grinch. Stephanie always takes time out of her busy schedule to call and chat about anything and everything. Somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, she has grown from being a daughter to also being a role model and a friend. I love her dearly.

So you can see why I’m missing that bunch. I’m thrilled that being off work allows me the freedom to go spend a random week out in Connecticut. Life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

         - I got through giving longer bath times to my grandsons since I now have my new neurostimulator. How fun!

I am Humbled!

I’m humbled. Life is so very good. I am blessed.

We are out in Connecticut to share this Holy Week with my daughter’s family. I’m in continued awe of the love she has instilled in her two sons. I learn more each day.

Today is Maundy Thursday. Now “maundy” is kind of a weird word sounding almost as if it is another one of those words that I made up, but this one actually means “commandment.”  Jesus gave us one more commandment in his last hours on earth, so you know it must be a good one. We were told to “love one another as he loved us.” Gulp! He left us with a toughie for that love goes to everybody, not just two adorable grandsons.

This evening, in many churches throughout the world, some members probably washed each other’s feet just like Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. That whole idea is wonderful, but I have never been part of this reenactment. I have ugly feet that are just fine remaining in my shoes. I’ve only seen this done with the pastor and one member of the congregation any way. Stephanie’s church went way farther and asked anyone who wanted to join in the feet washing to please come up by the alter. One by one, their feet would be washed and then they in turn would wash the next person’s feet. The last person in line would wash those of the pastor so a complete cycle would be made.

Now my feet are gross having long ago reached the category of Old Person’s Feet with thick toe nails and dry skin galore. For a change, my tootsies had polish but to show them off to a stranger was pushing it past the comfort level. Teddy had another idea and asked if I would go forward with him. What is a grandma to say? Off came off my shoes and socks, my pants were rolled up and I trudged up the center aisle with a devoted four year old.

I kept waiting for others to join in behind me, but our tootsie unveiling and organization took too long, Teddy and I were at the end. Our turn came and we quietly went in front of the altar and began. I placed one foot in the tub and lifted Teddy in front of me so both of his feet were now in the water. A high school girl washed our feet, dried them with a towel, and now it was up to Teddy and I to wash those of the pastor. All eyes were on us.

I crouched down next to my kneeling grandson as the pastor placed his feet inside the tub. I quietly whispered each step to Teddy. We slowly took it a step at a time while a hush blanketed the congregation. A gentle hymn played in the background while every eye was on us. I looked up at the pastor and saw this look of awe on his face. After the job was complete, we stood and were embraced by the arms of the pastor. His next words to the congregation explained how this tradition had all new meaning for him tonight. He had never experienced his feet washed by two generations, let alone by the loving hands of a four year-old. No one would expect a young child to wash one’s feet, but it was done this night. You could feel the love of Jesus blanket the congregation and topped with the words of his new commandment. “Love one another as he loved us.”

I’ll leave the descriptions of the nighttime devotions until a later date for I’ve done a good job rambling on as I retold this story. I hope you can get a sense of the miracle felt by this congregation on this Maundy Thursday. Who better to show God’s love than by the love of a child?

Earlier in the service, Teddy was in tears. It wasn’t done in misbehavior or a bonked head or a little brother. He explained his tears because he was so sad that people would hurt Jesus. Gulp! Teddy understood the purpose of this Lent better than any other person gathered this holy night in worship. He then washed the Pastor’s feet. Oh thank you God! I so much better understand this new commandment! Oh thank you Stephanie for allowing me to partake in this special miracle. It is so deeply etched in my heart.

I pray you readers can imagine my evening and glimpse into my week here in Connecticut. I am humbled! A four year-old knew better than a grandma, no matter her countless hours spent in worship. This was not a night for a “Nanny” to teach a toddler, but instead for him to bear witness.

“Love one another as he loved us.” I am humbled. Life is good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

      -  I am humbled! Thank you God for letting me be off work so I could come learn from my grandson.I finally really get it.

The Week Begins

Excitement mounts with only one more “sleep” before I see my daughter and grandsons. I have always loved Easter, with the Lenten preparation along the way. Holy Week is beginning where we spend many evenings in the sanctuary. We have our palms from yesterday when Christ entered the city with praise and jubilation. Each day brings strong emotions with vivid reminders of Christ’s suffering. Then there is Easter morning, and woo-hoo, the tomb is empty. Party time. Get out the Easter bonnets and white shoes, look for those eggs and baskets: life is good. I just might have an item or two for the grandsons’ Easter baskets. I can’t wait to see them search for the brightly colored eggs.

The sad part was dropping off Einstein this evening. A wonderful woman watches him, and he cavorts with new friends out in the country. Even so, he pulls at my heartstrings as I leave him behind. I feel almost like a cold villain as he whines and looks for me when we head off in the car without him. I’m a softie. This was the dog for whom I was not going to have any emotional bondage. It was so hard putting down Frostie, our last dog, after his struggle with cancer. I was not going to ever go through that ordeal again. Oops! I like the little guy. OK! I love that white furry fellow who snuggles into me each night as we fall asleep.

So now it’s time for laundry and packing. I’ll have to take more clothes in order to be prepared for church, shopping and playing cars on the floor. The cleaning lady will come while we are gone so I better also swipe off all the piles from the family room and kitchen tables. I’m coming Teddy! I’m on the way Ollie! Get those shopping shoes on Stephanie.

So I should be up and working, but I sit on the couch, completing a blog and watching the NCAA games. There’s a chance I could win in our bracket challenge. I always think that is pretty funny since I don’t really follow the sport during the season. Go Kentucky! Hey Hey! I got first place!

There’s a busy week ahead because I’ll be with family. I’ll miss Christopher as he swims around the Atlantic Ocean in his submarine.

Oh, please consider donating to Operation Zipper Pouch. You can send a pouch filled with goodies to members of our military. It’s only $13.80 per pouch or $21.80 with a nice embroidered message on the cover. My daughter is stuffing them with her commission and love. You can check it out at www.mythirtyone.com/stephaniewilliams   Click on My Events. Thanks for participating. Send a note of thanks to the military for Memorial Day. Life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

        -   I get time off work so I can fly off to find two special little boys. Woo hoo. Life is good.