Beautiful Things

When my husband suggested that we go to the Mississippi Museum of Art's exhibition of "Between God and Man: Angels in Italian Art" I have to admit, I nearly dropped the newspaper I was reading. He usually disagrees with artistic portrayals of angels, while I am comforted by these same portrayals. They give me something tangible to wrap my mind. I need tangible.

I also literally NEED beauty. I can become depressed to the point of physical illness when forced to spend prolonged periods in ugly environments. I got so disgusted with the waiting room of the counseling center I worked in when I was in grad school, I organized a bake sale to pay for paint and lobbied the administration for new furniture.

So looking at rooms of beautiful angels was right up my alley. Even if my husband insists that they don't really have wings.

He needs to watch "A Wonderful Life" one more time.

Right, Clarence?

Another View of St. Louis

I recently visited St. Louis to meet a group of friends from my belove Weight Watcher thread RML. This used to stand for "Run My Life" as we would pose questions to our fellow posters for help in making decisions. Now, we just get together daily to support one another in both our weight loss journeys and in our lives.

Since my MG diagnosis, get-togethers, while still enjoyable, are a tiny bit bittersweet. Some of the places that others visit are off limits to me. I have to go to bed early while the partying is still going on. Fatigue puts me into more of an observation mode that a participatory one at times. Even on my scooter, I can't always keep up.

But, there were some advantages to being obliged to take things at a slower pace and not being able to stay with the crowd. Some one on one time with a particularly dear friend who chose not to participate in an activity was precious. Being able to appreciate the very quiet, but VERY dry wit of another friend was also a lovely surprise. It was interesting to sit back and watch which combinations of personalities seemed to mesh into even closer friendships.

And I was blessed.

Preacher

Sometimes a minister comes along who becomes known to most of the adults in his congregation simply as "Preacher." Not Don, not Reverend W., but Preacher.

The former minister of my church, "Preacher", was called in to preach this morning in the absence of our regular clergyman. I did not realize just how much I have missed this man until I saw him in the pulpit today, singing the hymns with gusto, giving the choir the "thumbs up" after the anthem, and preaching a real, three point sermon with Biblical references throughout.

Preacher was more than a preacher. He was also a PASTOR. That means he visited the sick and shut in. He listened to the members of his congregation when they needed to talk. He treated his wife with courtesy, love, and dignity.

And, he stood up for me.

For ten years, out of fear and lack of skills to know how to handle the situation, I had been the recipient of unwanted attentions from a "pillar" of our church who was a member of the staff. These unwanted attentions ranged from being inappropriately touched to being backed up against a wall in an empty Sunday School classroom. The man was 40 years my senior and I was afraid that no one would believe my word against his if I said anything. So, I kept my mouth shut.

Until one day, bolstered by therapy and the realization that I did not have to just "take it" I went to Preacher. I told him that if that man touched me ONE more time, I was going to deck him.

Preacher took a long look at me, and said "Be my guest!" He also told me that he would stand by me if I wanted to make a complaint to staff-parish. I was amazed at the "no questions asked" support I got from this precious man.

As is customary in the Methodist church, Preacher's time with our church came to an end, and he went on to bless another church with his presence. We have had "Preachers" since then, but, alas, no one who deserves the title of "Pastor."

But, just for today, we had Preacher. And, once again, I was blessed.

Another Manning Sunday...

Anybody who knows me very well, knows that I am a longtime "Manning" fan. I rooted for Archie when he was the only good player on a very bad Saints team. I would have started rooting for him earlier, but played his college ball at Ole Miss. Nuff said!

Now, Archie's sons, Peyton and Eli are carrying on the Manning Legacy. Peyton, already a future Hall of Famer, is the quarterback for the reigning Super Bowl Champion Indianapolis Colts. Eli appears to be coming into his own as third year quarterback of the New York Giants.

Of course, I am impressed by the Mannings' football accomplishments. But, I am more impressed with the way they handle themselves away from the field. Peyton is the National Spokesman for Court Appointed Special Advocates cause, a charity that helps foster children learn to make the right decisions and lead healthy lifestyles. He is also involved in the YMCA and Special Olympics. Eli Manning is involved with Feed the Children, and For the Kidz.

Another thing about the Mannings that impresses me, particularly in this day and age, is that you never see them in the headlines for DUI, domestic violence, drugs, or any of the other pitfalls that other professional athletes encounter on a regular basis. The Mannings realize that, like it or not, kids are looking up to them. And they try to set a good example.

Don't get me wrong. The Mannings are not perfect. There was some bad press about Archie not wanting San Diego to draft Eli. Even Eli and Peyton occasionally lose their tempers. But in these days of the likes of Terrell Owens, Ricky Williams, and Adam (Pacman) Jones, Peyton and Eli look pretty darn good to me.

And they sure make Sunday afternoons something to talk about.

Are You Ready for Some Football???

Conversation in Mississippi has now turned from "the heat" to football.

Now I know a lot of people just don't understand the Southern obsession with SEC football. These folks sneer at our favorite Fall pastime and wonder why we are not more concerned with "the Problems of the World."

Well, Monday through Friday, we are concerned with the "Problems of the World." SEC football fans work a variety of jobs. We are counselors, booksellers, people who help administer programs to help provide shelter so that low income people can have decent homes, schoolteachers, and nurses. We provide for our families and take part in church and civic organizations.

But on Saturday, we deserve a chance to kick back and enjoy "our" teams. Rivalry is largely good natured. Football gives us something to talk about besides the "Problems of the World," most of which we can't solve anyway.

So I'll yell Geaux Tigers and wave my purple and gold pom-poms as long as I am able.

And long live the SEC!

The Heat!

Well, it is August in Mississippi and there is only one real topic of conversation.

The heat.

We really can't complain that much. It had been an unusually mild summer for us until August. That's when the record temps decided to come out of hiding and gang up on us all at once.

But there are some advantages.

* I have a legitimate reason not to cook. Don't want to heat up the house and drive up the electricity bill ya know. ;)
* I have an excuse to spend more time playing on the computer.
* I have actually made a dent in the natural disaster area that is also known as my office.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I'm Mellllllltttiinnnnngggggg...

Whew II

Dad called. His cancer has NOT spread. Treatment options will be discussed later in the month. Thankfully, the fact that this is contained makes those much more varied and considerably less invasive.

Stepmom is already researching treatment options on the internet and printing things out for Dad to read. I am amazed at what is available now that wasn't even five years ago when Dad battled this cancer demon for the first time.

So, I finally breathe out that BIG sigh of relief.

Whew!

Saying Goodbye

My Episcopal priest friend recently announced that she is leaving her church in Vicksburg to answer the call of a new church in a nearby town. I am happy that she is going to a much better situation, but will be sad to see her go.

When I asked her about the possibility of getting together once she got to her new church, she made those polite excuses about probably not having time since her new church would be bigger, more to do, etc.

I can take a hint when applied with a sledgehammer. I was her friend for a season. There when she needed me as she coped with what turned out to be a very difficult parish. There to sing for special occasions. There to help come up with activities for her tiny, but dedicated, youth group.

So, I prepare to say goodbye to my friend, knowing that any future contact will probably be limited to chance meetings, if at all.

My life has been richer for knowing her. I have enjoyed our time together. And I will get over my temporary hurt and remember the joy.

Priceless Treasure!

A couple of days ago, I found a priceless treasure. Now, normally, an almost twenty year old audiotape would not be anything special. But, this one is because it is the only recording that I know of that contains my mother's voice.

I knew that I had made this tape, and that it was around somewhere. But, I was afraid to look for it and play it because of the fear that it might break.

Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, it is now possible and economically feasible to convert analog tapes to digital files on a home PC. So, after finding a tape deck at a yard sale for $5.00 and a program that would enable such a conversion, I popped tape after tape into the tape deck in hopes that it would be THE ONE.

And, after a surprising small number of attempts, I found IT. A tape made one lazy summer day on a small paddle wheel boat on the Mississippi River. Mama and Lela, a family friend were helping me learn some songs from the WWII era. My dear friend, Elizabeth Ann, also now deceased, was playing the piano. The whole tape is filled with stories being told, spontaneous bursts of song, and laughter.

I wouldn't take a million dollars for it.

So, tonight, I am going to take the CD that I made from this precious tape to my sister's house. My 14 year old niece will be able to hear her grandmother's voice for the very first time.

And I have a feeling that I will be in tears. Tears of joy.

We Spoke Too Soon

Just got the call from my dad. Despite the positive results from initial tests his cancer HAS come back.

Now we wait while more specific testing is done over the next two weeks to determine the exact location and size of the cancer we will be dealing with this time.

Dad sounds optimistic and believes he is in good hands.

I am just praying for the strength to be there for him.

Whew!

My dad called yesterday afternoon with good news. In spite of some preliminary indications, his prostate cancer has not come back. I am almost dizzy with relief!

Dad has not always had an easy life. He was married for 32 years to my mother, who was an alcoholic and who later became chronically and seriously ill for the last 12 years of their marriage. I have no doubt that he loved her, but his needs always came second to hers.

When he met and married my darling Stepmom a couple of years ago, he became a new man. He just glows. They enjoy each other's company and are always on the go. The thought of cancer intruding on this long awaited happiness made me sad and angry.

But, thankfully, cancer is not in the picture. And I can breathe again.

Badminton

I think I have created a monster.

When I went to Nashville recently, I looked for something to bring back for my husband and our neighbor Sam, to play with. I found a badminton game in a toy store there and decided that might be a fun thing for them to do.

Well, since I brought badminton to my front yard, my husband and Sam have killed one racquet, 4 birdies, and some grass. :) But, they are having a ball.

As long as Sam is around, I know my husband will stay in shape.

Thanks, Sam!

A Day with KK

Back when my niece and nephew were small, I struggled with finding ideas for gifts for them. As the only grandchildren on either side of the family, they were knee deep in toys and clothes. Not wanting to add to that pile, I devised "gift certificates" for "A Day with KK."

The kids come to my house individually and are allowed to do (ALMOST) anything they want to do that day. It may be a Cartoon Network watching marathon (God save me from Billy and Mandy!) or making peanut butter Rice Krispie treats (a perennial favorite).

With the niece yesterday, the activities are now geared for a teenager. I gave her a pedicure, showed her how to make a mandala, and did meditation exercises with her. One of her favorite meals was cooked and served on my mother's china. We took out my mother's things and I told her stories about her "Nana Broomstick" who, to my great sorrow, never got to see her precious granddaughter.

I got an e-mail last night from my niece, saying that this was one of the best days she had had all summer.

Ditto for me. :)

Losing Weight

This is what I am not doing right now. I am maintaining. I am mindful of what I eat and I am journaling. But, due to numerous meds and medical conditions, I just don't seem to be able to get over the hump to get the calories down to what it would take for further loss. I have tried the high protein, low carb thing and just could not stay on it but 4 months. Then promptly gained the weight back after beginning to eat carbs again. I realize, that with a steroid and stimulant fueled appetite that I would weigh MUCH more if I were not at least trying to do something to take control.

I actually brought up the idea of lap band surgery at my primary care doc appointment today. He told me he would be OK with making a referral, but also told me that the chances of anyone touching my high risk self would be slim and none. I would literally be risking my life to be thin.

I am actually not that unhappy with myself. But my husband wants me thin. I see the way he looks at me when he sees me with a cookie or going back for a second helping of something. I can't even begin to remember when he paid me a compliment on any aspect of my appearance. And I want to lose the weight. For him. But, am I willing to die for his approval? Sometimes, I think I would be.

And that is sad.

Really Good News!

Whew! My family has just dodged a bullet of potentially serious proportions!

Last week, my sweet stepmother had been provisionally diagnosed with myelodysplastic syndrome. In this disorder, the bone marrow does not make enough red blood cells and can transform into leukemia. Turns out, her symptoms were caused by medication she was taking for another medical problem.

I have to admit, when I heard about this diagnosis, my mind started down all kinds of paths. I could see the probability of chemo or bone marrow transplant. I could see the possibility of my precious dad having to bury another wife, the woman who truly has become like a "second mom" to me.

Then, I got a grip and started putting Stepmom on prayer lists. I refused to let my mind wander down the dark paths. I started thinking about a course of action to keep myself as healthy as possible so that I could be of service to HER, if and when she needed me.

Thankfully, I can tuck those plans away. Hopefully forever. :)

The Blahs

Today I have had an old fashioned case of the blahs. I hate it when I feel like this. With all the stuff that is going on with friends and in the world, I feel like I have NO excuse for feeling blue.

A lot of times, the blahs come from things that are pretty small in the grand scheme of things. Stuff like the husband being grumpy from weeks of a grueling schedule at work. Frustration that my body won't hold up to do all the things I want to do. Feeling like my "real life" friends are always tugging at me, but never seem to be there when *I* need to whine!

And, I feel guilty. Even though I know the blahs are a normal part of life, I don't feel like *I* am entitled to feel that way. I have a cozy house, nice vehicle, loving family, financial stability, and loads of friends. Most people would be envious of the blessings I enjoy.

I know that these blahs won't last long. They will probably be gone with a good night's sleep.

And I will be my happy self again.

Monday's Child

This morning, the leader of an online Weight Watcher thread that I am on posted a JFF question.

What day of the week were you born?

I dutifully went to the posted page and found that I am a "Monday's Child" who is supposed to be "fair of face."

Now anyone who knows me can tell you that I am no beauty queen. But, I am not totally unhappy with my looks. I have my dad's eyes and my mom's mouth. When I look in the mirror, I can tell where I come from.

When I was growing up, I was called "ugly" by my less charitable classmates. I had braces and wire rimmed glasses. I was skinny and I was awkward. I was not going to be entering the Miss Mississippi pageant.

But, a funny thing happened after I grew up. Despite struggling with my weight most of my adult life, I FEEL attractive. My mother was a large woman, but she was beautiful and made the most of her looks by dressing well, keeping her hair and makeup current and stylish, and by carrying herself with a confident air.

So, even though I am a large woman now, I learned to make the most of what I have from the master.

My mama.

Gone to Heaven

I got the news this morning. Friend Don passed away last night. I am relieved that his suffering has finally ended.

When Don's daughter got married, we took a picture of him sitting in the back of his antique green truck, in overalls, with a cardboard sign saying "Daughter just got married. Will work for food."

I can picture him now, in his overalls, sitting in his old green truck. But this time his sign says "Gone to Heaven. See y'all there."

The Wait

My friend's cancer is in it's final stages. He is having seizures and he requires heavy doses of medication to manage what has become unbearable pain. He is largely unresponsive.

So now we wait. Every time the phone rings, the hearts of his friends and family skip a beat. Sleep is fitful. Plans are tentative. We pray for a "good" death and a peaceful end to his suffering.

God, be merciful.

Holy Week

This week is one of my favorite weeks of the entire year. The week that we Christians relive the last week of the life of Jesus. The week that we go from triumphant entry into Jerusalem, to the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, and finally the Glorious Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

And this week, I will sing the "Via Dolorosa" at a local Episcopal church for the 17th year in a row on Good Friday. It is the most moving service of the entire year for me. The altar is stripped of adornment, save a rough wooden cross. Everyone enters and leaves in silence.

This week always reminds me that there is light at the end of every tunnel. I just have to walk through the darkness in faith.