Wednesday June 15 2016  WHO IS THE STRANGER?

We are but one among millions.  Do you ever wonder if there is even one stranger with whom your paths cross who gives you a second thought?   Do you ever wonder about people who are shopping beside you, or the person across from you as you are going up in the same elevator?  Do you wonder about the man or woman who is sitting across from you in a waiting room?  Me, I wonder about everything and just about everyone with whom I come in contact.  And here I am even wondering if you ever wonder. 

One of my most interesting things to wonder about is people.  I enjoy starting conversations with complete strangers and listening to their stories.  I enjoy learning about their differences, their backgrounds, and more about who they are.  Why?  Well, for heaven’s sake, I don’t have a clue why I like to wonder.  Maybe some would just call me nosey; others might see it as rude.  Or maybe God just made me that way.

One thing that intrigues me are tattoos.  I always wonder about the story behind the tattoo.  When a person opens up and shares the why, the where, and the purpose of their tattoo, so much is said in a short conversation.  Their stories tell so much about who they are, their past pains, their future dreams, their passions and hope, and so much more.  What makes their stories especially interesting is that they are illustrated.  Though I have never felt the desire to have a tattoo myself, and on threat of our son’s life, I forbade him from having one as long as he lived at home.  However, I am still fascinated by the fact that people are willing to sit under the kneedle in order to declare their story in a quiet, yet visual form.  I think tattoos are signs waiting to be read.  It’s as if a tattoo has its own voice saying, “SEE ME!  SEE ME!”.   And so, if the situation presents itself, I simply say, “What is the story behind your tattoo?”  And our conversation begins.

You would not believe the stories I have heard.  The body decorations declare extreme loss, great celebration, some with regret, much joy, and pure pride and pleasure just to have the designs decorating their limbs, torsos, necks and face.  And some, I have been told, are even hidden.  If you ever want to engage with someone in a crowd choose someone with a tattoo and give it a try.  The worst that can happen is they look at you with disdain and walk away (which has not yet happened to me), and at the best thing that can happen is that you just might get an interesting story.  And I like stories.

Today I was shopping and saw a young woman with a unique hair style.  I commented on it and it opened the door to conversation.  She had tattoos also but she said there were no stories behind them.  After speaking with her a few moments I realized that at least one of her tattoos spoke loud and clear once I found out that she is a dancer and yoga instructor.  Her name is Nicole and I asked her if she would share a bit of her story.  She graduated with a Dance and Yoga major and is now working in Egypt as a dance and yoga instructor at an international school.  Just the fact that she arrived home two days ago from Egypt for a visit fueled my pump with all kinds of questions.  I asked many questions and Nicole seemed patient and kind as she shared about her job and the Egyptian culture.  Before we parted I asked her if she would speak the wisdom she has learned.  Here is Nicole’s words:

“I would say for me, the most things I’ve learned are to just take chances and take risks no matter if it’s pushing you a little bit out of your comfort zone.  Those are the ways in which you learn and you grow.  If you always just stay where you are you never really get to experience how other people live.”

I loved her comments.  Last year as I traveled I did just that.  I took chances and I took risks.  I approached people and heard a lot of stories along my journey.  Yes, I was still in the United States and Canada but out of the way places are truly like a different society.  It was amazing to experience so many unbelievable places and meet so many interesting people. There were some places in the south which actually made me feel as if I were in another country.  Though many of my experiences were short I will forever have the memories of what I did, who I met, and where I was.  And the great thing I have discovered is, if you are willing to take chances, like questioning a total stranger about their tattoo, you can discover a whole new world just in that one person.  Regardless of who I meet I always seem to walk away a richer person than I was before I met them.  And you know what?  I believe people like to be noticed.  If they don’t, they’ll let you know and the conversation will be very short.

Thank you Nicole for being so kind as you listened to an older woman.  And even more thanks for opening up and sharing a bit of your own story.  You made my day brighter. 

 

YOU MAY MISS OUT

By Kathleen Martens

June 15, 2016

 

So many strangers we pass every day

In their silent world, going on their way.

But who are they, these faces I see?

What do they wonder when they look at me?

 

The world is so big, yet so small

And we are silent, refraining to call.

We keep to ourselves, reading smart-phones

Without being attuned to another’s moans.

 

Who is that man, that boy, or that girl

With their busy lives, lived in a whirl?

Do they even care who I am?

Would they help me if I were in a jam?

 

Or would I help them in their plight

If another engaged them to fight?

Am I willing to help another,

Whether it be friend, stranger or brother?

 

When we are not friendly, what do we miss

As we pass silently in a great abyss?

What would happen if we said hello again?

Would there be a chance to make a friend?

 

Are you willing to chance a few words?

Or are you concerned you might not be heard?

Take a risk and give it a try,

You might be helping another to fly.

 

It may be hard to get rid of your phone,

Or to step out of your comfort zone.

But by doing so is how you grow,

And with each step, your learning will show.

 

When you reach and to others you give,

You may then experience how another person lives.

Don’t stay where you are until your end,

You may miss finding your very best friend!

 

Thank You God for the courage You give me.

Thank You for all the wonderful people I meet.

Thank You Lord for all the wonderful opportunities You provide for me.

Thank You for garage sales.

Thank You for my new pots and pans.

 

GOD BLESS EACH OF YOU. 

GOOD NIGHT!

Tuesday June 14 2016  IT TAKES A LOT OF TIME

Just in case you haven’t arrived yet, I have a few things to tell you.  Arrive where, you may ask?  Well, the destination to which I refer to is at the entrance of old age.  Yep!  That would be where I am now, although I do not feel old.  More than likely I look older than I feel.  And the fact that I want to share with you is, the fact that “IT TAKES A LOT OF TIME” to be old.  Not only does it take a lot of time to arrive at that door, it seems that the arrival time is different for each individual.  And I don’t feel like I am truly over the threshold as of yet, but I certainly have some of the symptoms of the door opening wider.

There is much involved in the aging process.  Genetics, health, self abuse, nutrition, exercise, active lifestyle verses sedentary lifestyle, where you live, career choices, and even economics, are all contributing factors to how quickly we do, or do not age.  And the list could go on.

When I was younger I didn’t understand why people spent an hour or two at the gym each day.  I wondered if they didn’t have enough to do, or perhaps just didn’t have a “real life”.  I thought of it as a very selfish and self pampering behavior.  It just seemed trivial to me.  Sorry folks.  I hope that doesn’t make me look as bad as I think it does by sharing my naivety and lack of wisdom of the immature self that I once was.  Now I am viewing life from the opposite view.  I am on the upper spectrum of my earth years so perhaps I have learned just a few things. 

After I regained my health and vigor of my youth after eating less and joining a gym, all of a sudden it was as if the scales fell off my eyes.  After recapturing so much of what I had lost physically, I now realize that the people who go to the gym faithfully really do not just “have” the time to do it but they must persevere and create the time to do so.  These are the people who do have a life.  Sometimes when we give up one thing to accomplish an even greater thing, we receive benefits that far outweigh what we have given up.

I know personally I sacrifice hours in my days to make certain that I get to the gym to workout.  And those two hours a day, along with eating healthy and doing my best to make certain I have adequate rest, have restored me to a place that I never thought was possible.  A little over three years ago I could barely get up out of a chair and it was always with great pain that I did so.  Now I don’t even think about it anymore.

However, just because I can get up out of a chair and go the gym on a regular basis, believe me, I am still aging.  The years take a toll on the human body no matter how much you do “right”, how much rest you receive, or even how active you might be.  Sometimes it is because of being so active which can cause the nuances of that which plagues you.  For me, it is now my elbow and shoulder.  I thought I was mightier that I was and tried to move something I had no power to move.  And, it is continuing to haunt me with limited use of the right arm, shoulder and hand.  Physical therapy hasn’t fixed it, and according to my MRI, the tears in my rotatory cuff are not serious enough to qualify for surgery.  I can’t help but wonder if it is because of my age?  So I am again in the midst of another round of therapy.  And therapy takes time.  And old age just keeps sneaking up on me.  One day at a time.  It can pounce on us or sometimes it sneaks up very quietly to surprise us.  And usually it is only one “little” thing at a time and we adjust and get used to the time it takes to pamper the intruder, and like a thief in the night, another one wriggles right past the alarm system.  And every little thing adds up and each malady takes a little bit more of your time to prepare for the day or to prepare for bed, or more to take with you when you go someplace.  And that is what I mean when I say “IT TAKES A LOT OF TIME” just being older!

Now I know why people need to retire.  It takes time to take care of these old bodies!  Just don’t be surprised at all the little surprises that pop up along the pathway as we trudge to the top of the hill.  As for me, I choose to meander on the way up and take time to smell the roses.  And if truth be told, I am enjoying each day I live, regardless how much time it takes me to do, what I used to could do, so much more quickly.  I don’t have as much time as I used to but as long as I can drive myself to the gym I will at least show up.  I want to do as much as I can for as long as I can.  For me personally old age is not a destination; it is a place I aspire to go in order to finish some of my dreams that I’ve yet to fulfill. It is so much better to be old when you think of the alternative.  So, even as I slow down, God is still by my side giving me the strength I need for each moment I live.  We are never promised tomorrow.  I just thank God each day for every moment he allows me to walk on this earth.  And I especially thank God for each and every day that Dave and I share this road together. 

No matter where you are in life, stop and give praise to the one who made you, as well as who died for you, so that you will someday live eternally  with Him in heaven.  That is where my pathway is leading.  Where is your pathway taking you?

 

I KNOW ONE THING CERTAIN

By Kathleen Martens

June 14, 2016

 

The end of the road

Is not really the end,

When the one waiting

Is your truest Friend.

 

No matter how steep

Or rugged the path,

Or however wearisome,

It will not last.

 

The end is in sight

When you’ve come so far.

When You reach the top

Your sight can’t be marred.

 

The highway of life

Takes twists and turns,

As well as experiences

That helped us learn.

 

We are to keep our focus

On the God who loves all.

God designed a perfect plan

That we would not fall.

 

He commanded each one

To honor father and mother

That our days would be long

On earth with our brothers.

 

And when we have wisdom,

Days are added to life,

So man and woman live longer

As husband and wife.

 

So I thank God daily

For years on this earth,

For hours and moments

Are all of great worth.

 

And though I am older,

My privilege complete

When God calls me home

And Jesus I meet.

 

And so it takes longer

To do as I must,

At least I can move

And hopefully won’t rust.

 

So I accept each day

As a precious jewel,

And study Gods Scripture,

My most treasured tool.

 

And as I walk

Through these later years,

I know one thing certain,

Closer to God I draw near.

 

Deuteronomy 5:16

¹⁰ “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,
And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
¹¹ For by me your days will be multiplied,
And years of life will be added to you.”

 

Thank You God for however many days I left on this earth.

Thank You for creating me.

Thank You Lord for all our talks and hours we have spent together.

Thank You for all the days I have lived.

Thank You for creating asparagus.

Thank You that Dave walks beside me.

I love You so much God!

 

HAVE A GREAT AFTERNOON AND BLESSED TOMORROW. 

 

Monday June 13 2016  BOXES OF MY MOTHER’S MEMORIES

So many memories packed away in boxes.  I went through two boxes today that seemed to take hours.  Small items to sort through; letters, personal tablets (the paper kind), eye glasses, my grandfather’s pocket knife, baby clothes, aprons that come with stories, and a varied assortment of other small memorabilia which my mother thought important enough to give me many years before she died.  My mother knew how I loved going back over the history of our family, those I knew, those she knew, and some who my grandmother told me about.  The farthest generation back that I met was my mother’s grandmother (my great grandmother) when I was 8 years old.

When I met my great grandmother she was in a “rest home” facility.  She was always referred to as Great Grandma Lowe. Her first name was Mary.  She had dementia and was also bed-ridden.  I remember that she showed me her “baby”.  It was a large, life-sized, hard rubber doll.  It was wrapped in a blanket and she hugged it to her.  Of course I didn’t understand the situation and was quite confused.  I definitely knew it was NOT a baby.   THE LOOK my mother gave me, insured that I would not ask questions, nor say anything about the fact that her baby was just a doll.  I was skeptical of my grandmother after that.  However, I was very glad I met her.

My oldest sister has relayed to me a few of her earliest memories of “Great Grandma Lowe”.  My sister found her quite harsh and unfriendly toward most of her grandchildren except a favored few.  Her first husband died of food poisoning about the time my Grandmother married in 1917.   Her mother remarried and though she divorced her second husband, she was always remembered and referred to by her second husband’s last name.  What I must keep in mind is that Great Grandma Lowe was my mother’s grandmother and my mama dearly loved her grandma.  She always spoke very highly of her.

When I received the endowment of my mama’s correspondence there were a few old greeting card boxes filled with her most cherished letters.  I could tell by the tenor of the letter from her grandma that the two were probably closer than I realized. Grandma Lowe died when I was 10 years old.  She was up in her 90’s.  All three of my last three maternal ancestors lived into their 90’s and all three had dementia. 

Today was a tough day as far as letting go of anything in those two boxes.  Both were the size of a fruit box and they were given to me in person by mother about 20 years ago.  She described each item to me, labeling some, and told me the stories that she remembered about the items.  I decided that those two boxes would be keepsakes to pass on to my children.  I am going to save one large suitcase to pack all the historical family treasures from both Dave’s family and my family.  I will only keep what will fit into the suitcase.  I too would like to pass them on and let our children see some of the handmade items that belonged to their ancestors. 

One reason it took so long to go through these boxes was that I re-read the letters and notes attached to all the items.  I handled each relic, tried on the apron that belonged to my grandfather’s mother (who was a tall and enormously wide woman), and then held up my mother’s, mother’s house-dress (which I remember her wearing), comparing it to my frame.  My mother’s mama was very short and quite round.  Most of her dresses were made to look like long sacks with a tie around the middle that always rode up and snuggled under her pendulous bosoms and protruding round belly.  She looked like she would be soft to hug but I don’t ever remember receiving a hug from her.  But somehow I always knew she loved me, she just didn’t know how to show it.

Come to think of it, I don’t remember any hugs from my mother either.  I’m sure she held me close when I was a baby but by the time I was a few years old, and old enough to retain memories, her physical or verbal displays of affection ceased to exist.  She was never touched in a loving way and therefore she did not learn how to pass that touch on.  Once I was grown however, I never thought for one moment that I was not loved by her.  But what I learned from my childhood was that I knew how I did not want to parent.  I was successful in changing that pattern.  And so many memories came flooding back just now when I looked back to earlier this afternoon when my son was leaving our house after lunch.  I was working at the sink and we were alone for a few moments in the kitchen.  He came and stood by me, held his arms wide open and gathered me into his embrace.  His strong muscles enveloping me as he caressed my back.  My arms were tight around him, my face turned to one side against his chest, enjoying this precious love moment with my son who was, and still is, so dearly loved. I had intentionally changed the patterns of my family’s culture which made it so natural for him to express his affection so honestly and easily.

So you can see all the memories that opening a couple of boxes can construe.  The more emotions and memories I experience makes me all the more see the wisdom in keeping a house downsized yearly, monthly, weekly, and even daily.   I’m trying but I’m not very good at it yet.  But I’m really trying.  Just taking notice of what both our children are doing, in keeping things from becoming cluttered, is giving me more and more incentive to be successful.  Because of living their growing up years with a mom who became so attached to everything, they too knew how they didn’t want to live as adults.  I am happy that they were able to change the patterns of our immediate family’s culture.

 

TREASURES FROM GENERATIONS PAST

By Kathleen Martens

June 13, 2016

 

What to do is the big question,

Do I save or give it away?

Perhaps it’s my children who should decide

How I should handle this decision today.

 

What about the things I remember?

The memories made in my past?

And the keepsakes that I have saved

Helping my memory to last.

 

So what to do with another’s memories?

Do I keep them to enjoy while I live?

Should I tell the stories to our children

Hoping the relics to another generation give?

 

And now those treasures from generations past

In boxes, are long dejected,

And I’m concerned that in future generations

The contents will be rejected.

 

My mother’s keepsakes were hers alone

About those who came before.

I was there to hear some stories,

And I always wanted to know more.

 

Memories seem to spill from my heart

As I think about the past.

But a lot of memories are not mine

When I’m gone they will not last.

 

God, I thank You that I can still recall my memories.

And Lord, thank You for reminding me that my treasures are not of this world but those I have deposited in heaven.

Thank You for all Your blessings in my life and providing me with so much.

Thank You for a loving son and daughter.

Thank You too for making it so much easier for me to release “things”.

Thank You for Your amazing grace!

 

GOOD NIGHT AND MAY GOD BLESS YOU WITH WISDOM AND INSIGHT AS YOU LIVE EACH DAY.

P.S.

Actually, the poem you just read was written in the exact reverse order of stanzas than what you read above.  I first read the poem to Dave as it was originally written. I then asked him to again listen while I read it starting with the last stanza first and then reading the next to last stanza as the second verse, and so on with each of the verses.  No need to bother reading the original rendition below if it is too confusing, but you may find it interesting to see how my brain worked in writing the stanzas in reverse order first, not realizing I would like the reversed order best.  Oh yes, I did change a few words here and there.

 

TREASURES FROM GENERATIONS PAST

By Kathleen Martens

June 13, 2016

 

Memories seem to spill from my heart

As I think about the past.

But a lot of memories are not mine

When I’m gone they will not last.

 

My mother’s keepsakes are hers alone

Of those who came before.

I was there to hear some stories,

And I always wanted to know more.

 

And now those treasures from generations past

In boxes, are long dejected,

And I’m concerned that in future generations

The contents will be rejected.

 

So what to do with another’s memories?

Do I keep them to enjoy while I live?

Should I tell the stories to our children

Hoping the relics to another generation give?

 

And what about the things I remember?

The memories made in my past?

And the keepsakes that I have saved

Helping my memory to last.

 

What to do is the big question,

Do I save or give it away?

Perhaps it’s my children who should decide

How I should handle it today.

 

GOOD NIGHT AGAIN!

Sunday Sabbath June 12 2016   LUNCH, BLOG, AND NAP!

On Sunday I always peruse the next week’s calendar so as to be prepared for what is coming.  This particular week has a lot coming!  As I viewed it a few moments ago I could just imagine all my hopes for accomplishments dissolving into thin air.  I am down to less than two weeks to collect from closets and drawers and shelves and floor and shop and studio and garage and…and…everywhere else I am planning to scour for valuable to sell in 10 days.  It is a daunting task.

Why did I allow so many other appointments to gain importance, you may ask? I didn’t plan for any of them to be there.  One is a physical therapy appointment because I having so much trouble with my torn rotator cuff.  Another one is an emergency eye appointment because of an eye situation that has developed in my right eye.  Both eyes are affected but the right seems to be in worse condition.  Another event is a commitment I have twice a year that I do not want to forego.  And there are actually a couple of other entries but I can’t remember what they are.  Oh, and one day (next Sunday is both Father’s day as well as my husband’s birthday).  We always try to have the birthday party on the actual birth date. 

Since the birthday party is a dinner party here I must also prepare for that.  There are some things that just can’t wait.  Remember what I said a few days ago about making a person’s day of birth a memorable occasion?  I want to do that for Dave.

If you really want the truth, I’d rather be taking a nap than writing at this precise moment.  And that says a lot!  I NEVER LIKE TO TAKE NAPS!  But, there comes a day (like today) when my body needs, craves, longs, desires, and insists that I MUST REST AND NAP!  So that is what I plan to do when I finish here at the computer.  By revealing this I feel as if I am confessing the fact that I am aging.  And in order to stay on top of my game this weekend I will succumb to the idea.

 

LUNCH, BLOG, AND NAP

By Kathleen Martens

June 12, 2016

 

Lunch, blog, and nap

In precisely that order.

I will lie down and rest

And stop being a sorter.

 

I’ll set aside the boxes,

The closets, shelves and larder.

And pay attention to what I need

Though for me it will be harder.

 

I’d much rather be up,

Making inroads in my plans.

But my eyelids are drooping,

And I can barely stand.

 

Well, maybe it’s not quite that bad

But for my poem it sounded good.

I only wish I could do more work,

And I’d do it if I possibly could.

 

But I will listen with my heart

To what my body is saying.

I want to stay as strong as I can

And the price is the nap I’m paying.

 

Short and sweet will be my blogs

For this week and the next,

Because I have much to accomplish

Without becoming vexed.

 

Have a great day my blogger friends

I send greetings and a “GOD BLESS YOU”.

May God protect you from all harm

As you do what you must do.

 

Thank You God for common sense.

Thank You for a strong body.

And Lord, I even thank You for my weak hands for they are Your hands.

Thank You for prunes.

Thank You again for my wonderful husband! (Maybe I should have put this line above the prunes).

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday June 11 2016  A FILLED UP DAY

 

10:41 p.m.  Just arrived home.  Below is the story of my day.

 

HOME AGAIN

By Kathleen Martens

June 11, 2016

 

From sun up to now

Not a moment to stop,

And now that it’s late

I need to plop!

 

My morning begins

Soft and sweet.

I say Good morning to God,

Unnecessary to tweet.

 

Ready to leave for the gym

But waylaid by the phone

Which was a desperate call.

So I stayed home.

 

Then off again

Determined to sweat.

Which I accomplished

Without any fret.

 

Home again to meet

A friend that dropped by

Who is interested

In our couch to buy.

 

Then off to prepare lunch

Ate and then left

To honor a graduate

Who is quite deft.

 

And then off we drove,

Grand children to see,

And to enjoy a movie

Which is always free.

 

Then roasted marshmallows,

Added chocolate and crackers,

Which made two little boys

Quite the little zappers.

 

And now we are home

My body like led.

So a poem for a blog

Before I go to bed.

 

Thank You God for watching over us this day.

Thank You Lord for the beautiful memories made today.

Thank You for the wonderful sermons I listened to this morning while exercising.

Thank You for a son who has a truck.

Thank You for cold grapes.

 

Good night and God bless you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday June 10 2016 REMINISCING

We are now the parents of a middle aged adult!  Am I correct in thinking that 40 is still considered the beginning of “middle aged”?  So, am I still in the middle age too?  The determining factor seems to get a bit blurry when it refers to oneself.  Someone “OLD” has always been someone 10 years older than I am currently!  So perhaps to the 40 year olds, Dave and I have long ago entered the category of the “elderly”.  All I really know for certain is, that age is just number and we (you and I) are just who we are, regardless our age.

That is the way I choose to think of it.  As I look out from my eye view and talk to younger people I actually forget that I am standing there in front of them exposing all the ravages that take a toll on the “older” body.  When I see the young people, in my spirit I become one of them, and I forget that I am any older than they are.  Perhaps it’s because my spirit is eternal and never ages, and it is the young me that shows up for the younger crowd.  And then I remember what I see from the inside looking out is something totally different from what the younger generation sees from the outside looking in.  Oh well, the fantasy world is sometimes the best place to exist…at least at my age.  The important thing at my age is to know the difference.  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING DAUGHTER!  WISH I WERE IN FLORIDA CELEBRATING WITH YOU! 

Can’t wait for you to open your gift.  I promise you, it will not add one item more to what you already own.  Remember, it is the thought that counts!!!

Forty years ago today I was at work on Thursday June 10^th when I received “THE CALL” from our friend Peggy.  Peggy is the person that God used to be instrumental in connecting Dave and me with the birth mother of our child.  This is what I wrote down when Peggy gave me the news that Rebecca was born.

“6  6oz

19 ½ ”

2:00

No hair”

That was it!  I wrote the note because I didn’t want to forget a word that was said to me.  And those few words scribbled on that scrap of paper were all my brain could comprehend.  That simple message said, “I WAS A MOTHER”!  I kept that note in my pocket for the rest of the day and just kept touching it and re-reading it.  It was all I could do to believe it had really happened.   I still have that actual note taped in Rebecca’s baby album (the first child always gets the album).  I could barely contain myself at work.  I think they should have sent me home after I received that phone call.  I prepared in-office surgical trays and assisted with wound debridement, suture removal, and other office procedures.  It is a wonder I could even think to perform protocol.  I could barely focus on what I was doing.

Dave and I went to the hospital that evening and we didn’t even have the opportunity to touch Rebecca.  We just stood at the window and longingly wished we could be included in the back room with her.  We went home without touching our daughter on the first day of her life.

The next evening we were again at the window gazing and wishing the same thing.  After a while a nurse peeked out from one of the nursery doors and asked why we were there.  I told the nurse it was just so heartbreaking to be so close to our daughter and not be able to touch her.  She looked at us quizzically and asked why we couldn’t touch her.  We explained about the fact that we were the adoptive parents and had no rights as of yet.  She told us to follow her.  She took us to a room, told us to wash and gown up and she would be right back.  OH MY GOODNESS!  She came back holding all 6 pound 6  ½ ounces  of our little, “No hair”, baby girl.  I can’t even begin to tell you the love that God poured into my heart in that special moment.  We knew for six months that this baby was promised to us.  Our love was already planted but it became a symphony when she was placed into my arms.  The nurse snapped a photo and it has been displayed in a prominent place in every home we have lived in since that time.  It is still my very favorite photo of our new family.

As I gazed at Rebecca as I cradled her in my arms that first time I remember thinking that all the potential of the person she would someday be was in my safekeeping.  I don’t know what Dave was thinking, but for me it was a serious, exciting, nerve racking, and a most unbelievable moment in time.  I knew that I had to protect her, advocate for her, fight for her if need be.  I took parenting very seriously, and probably, on occasions, went overboard.   When our children were quite young I could see that I did not like the influence of television in their lives and we weaned them from watching television.  I wanted Dave and I to be the ones who influenced what went into our children’s vulnerable minds.  No television seemed a bit strict to some but I have never regretted removing it from their life.  That first moment when I held her I looked into her puckered up face and realized that everything she could be was wrapped in that little 6 pound 6 ½ ounce body.  It was at that moment I became a Mother Bear!  She was mine to protect.

It was necessary for the birth mother to be discharged from the hospital before we had legal rights to carry Rebecca from the hospital premises.  We arrived excited and early on Saturday morning.  We stopped by Carole’s room and told her how grateful we were for the amazing gift she gave us.  Carole was three months pregnant when we met her for the first time.  It was at the time she interviewed us as prospective parents.   Recently, when we visited her, and her husband David, she shared with me that after she interviewed us she did not interview any other couples.  She said she knew in her heart that we were the ones she wanted to parent her child.  We were her first choice.  Dave and I both believe with all of our hearts that Rebecca was, and still is, our gift from God.  What a blessing she has been to us through the years!

Forty years ago there was no such thing as “mandatory pregnancy leave” for adoptive parents or for fathers for that matter.  Of course the birthing mother was off a few weeks for recovery but that did not include me.  I took one week off as vacation and then had to leave Rebecca in the care of another person.  Day care was very difficult to find.  Large business day cares were in the beginning stages of becoming an accepted way of childcare.  The only thing was the large daycare would not accept a child who was under two years old.  Well, that left us out.  I had a neighbor that lived next door to where we had previously lived in Anaheim, California.   This former neighbor said she would she would watch Rebecca until we could find a home care provider.  On my first day back to work I dropped Rebecca off at about 7:30 a.m. and picked her up after 6:00 p.m.  When I walked in, I found Rebecca crying desperately in her carrier (an infant seat that reclined).  We lived quite close so I picked up the carrier, the neighbor gave me her diaper bag (we used cloth diapers), and I quickly walked to my car so I could get her home as quickly as possible.  I had no idea what was wrong.  When I arrived home and picked her up she was saturated from head to toe.  I looked in her diaper bag and all her bottles were still full.  And not one of her fresh diapers had been used.  Since the buckle was still latched across her chest I doubted if she had been picked up even once.   

Needless to say, I was distraught.  I took another week off work.  I did not call my former neighbor and I never went back to that woman’s house again.  I actually don’t think I even paid her.  I was too upset to even have a confrontation.  I felt like a neglectful mother for having left my baby in her care.  Today, I would report her.  I learned a great lesson that day.  And just for the record, she never called me to find out why I didn’t bring her back.

Fortunately within the week someone from my church called and told me about a woman in the church that did in home daycare that was close to my work.  She was unbelievable and Rebecca thrived in her care.  She only kept children through the first year of their life.  Rebecca was the only one she kept for two years.  She also was the provider for Courtland when he was born three years later.  However, she could not be convinced to keep him for year two!  I took him to another provider but was so apprehensive about leaving him that I quit work, pulled both the kids out of day care and was a stay at home mom on a budget.  And it was worth it!

So now, 40 years after it started it is over.  Our kids our grown, we are retired, and we still choose to live on a budget.  As much as I loved being the mom of little ones, I do so enjoy them as adults.  But every once in a while I cannot help myself and must ruminate those years that seem to get more gentle as time passes.  Those years were happy years and they were difficult years.  And they still make me smile.

 

REMINISCING

By Kathleen Martens

June 10, 2016

 

Diapers and bottles

Puke and poop,

Where the buck stops

That’s the scoop.

 

Peanut butter and jelly,

Messes galore,

Late night earaches.

And walking the floor.

 

Squabbles and squawks,

Bites and tantrums.

The story of toddlers

Is not a phantom.

 

And I asked

Will this time never end?

And so soon it was over

With no rest to lend.

 

Soccer and little league

Auditions and acting.

For things to do

Were never lacking.

 

Marching band

As well as football,

Musicals to watch

Spring and fall.

 

Our adventures mounted

As kids grew.

They were always involved

In something new.

 

Then all grown

As they flitted around

Until finally

They settled down.

 

And too soon

It was all over

And I’m retired

Living life in clover.

 

Do I secretly long

For days long passed?

Not on your life

Should that be asked!

 

I still dream

To fulfill many plans.

Every day I work

To do as much as I can.

 

But it’s fun to reminisce

Because I am free

For I am allowed

To at last be me.

Job 8: 8-11  (NIV)

Thank You Lord for the times when You rescued our children from the jaws of death.

Thank You too for Your angels that hover around us.

Thank You for the lovely lady I met at the Attic Angel Fund Raiser today.

Thank You for peanut butter and jelly.

 

GOOD NIGHT TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.  GOD BLESS YOU.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday June 9 2016   THE POWER OF A LETTER

Yesterday I finished the book “DOWNSIZING THE FAMILY HOME” by Marni Jameson.  A very appropriate book for me to read at this crossroad of my life.  Extremely well written and informative in regards to downsizing personal belongings or closing down an aged parent’s home who have perhaps died or moving to as assisted living facility.  She speaks about dispersing the contents of the home, what venues certain items should be sold, example: eBay, Craig’s List, garage sale, donate, throw away, or keep.  She goes into detail as what should be kept as permanent records.

There were a lot of interesting scenarios about dispersing the contents of the family home.  This kind of situation often causes a lot of upset, hard feelings, and permanent derision with siblings facing this event.  Years before my mother entered the abyss of dementia she purposely started sorting her personal belongings.  She wanted to give certain people certain items so she made contact with them and offered the items to them.  She corresponded with many people over the years of her life and I believe she kept ever single letter ever written to her.  Since our family was strung out across the United States and email was not available back then, there were a lot of cassette tapes passed back and forth as well as letters, cards and notes.  I was included in this correspondence because every phone call we made out of our area code was costly.

By the time my mom died at 91 the contents of her entire life fit in a bedroom.  Yes, there were things she had kept and everything was neatly stacked, waiting for heirs to claim their endowment.  She had five daughters living.  Both of her sons died before she did.  Mama’s one request was that no one would fight over anything which had belonged to her. 

My eldest sister was in charge of the “event”.  Four daughters were present and no one else.  One daughter chose not to come due to hard feelings that already existed between the sisters unrelated to mama’s death.  The absent sister had given a list of what she would like to choose and asked another sister to be her voice.  My oldest sister gave each of us a sheet of paper and a pen.  Each one of us was to write on the paper what it was that we most desired.  If what was written down was different we would all receive our first choice.  This way there was no hierarchy of going from oldest to youngest each time we wrote a request.  As long as no one chose the same item in a given round we each received what was written on our paper. 

Over and over again choices were made.  There were no duplicates on any same round until the very end when there were just small items left of really no consequential value.  Actually there wasn’t anything of value monetarily when we started.  Primarily everything was just memories and sentiments of the past.  When I chose something toward the end that one of my sisters chose, it was easy for me to let it go because I could tell it meant more to them.  There were really only a few things I desired.   The first two I chose were mama’s correspondence and journals, and her Mother’s ring (which I had purchased for her years before).  One other item I also desired was the last Bible mama used at the end of her reading days.  I had a feeling my youngest sister also wanted it so I purposely did not choose it in the first round to see if it was her favorite.  It was.  I was happy for her, but a little sad for myself.  Are there times when I wish I could still rifle through the pages that were so well worn and read mama’s notations?  Yes, but I just pray that the Bible will give my sister comfort.  Mama’s death was extremely difficult for her.

My oldest sister chose not to participate in choosing anything from mama’s belongings.  I would have been better off space-wise if I had done the same thing.  Now I have shelves full of her old correspondence, minus the letters I really wanted.  As mama re-read all her correspondence late in life she set aside each person’s letters who had corresponded with her on a regular basis and mailed them all back to each individual.  I remember receiving a large stack of my own letters.  During the early years of my children’s lives I did not write a consistent journal so I lost a lot of their growing up years that I wish I had logged.  I often regretted that so many stories and accomplishments in their young lives were not written down while the experience was fresh in my mind.  Well, when I re-read the letters, many 10 or 12 pages long, hand written, there was story after story of all the daily happenings in our lives during those years.  I was delighted to have them back.  I just wasn’t delighted to know that I didn’t get to peek in all my aunts’ and cousins’ personal letters!  (Shame on me!)  Mama was a wise old soul.

I have not finished reading all that was written to her in those rubber made containers that I carted home.  I did learn some interesting tidbits however.  I had no idea about all the things my mother was busy doing for others.  There were so many nice letters and cards and wonderful thank you notes included in the bins I carted home.  Remember, this was the time when people actually wrote letters and sent cards.  It was so refreshing to see all the wonderful, kind, and generous acts my mother did for so many others.  She worked tirelessly all her life, did not gossip, and rarely told anything about her undercover acts of kindness and generosity.  It put a smile in my heart to see how she was perceived by so many.  I believe my endowment in those bins of correspondence was more valuable than if those bins had been filled with gold.  Mama loved God and she walked His path in all areas of her life.  I also have her journals and have read a scattering of them.  Nowhere in her journals does she ever mention what she had done for another.  I would never have known her as well as I do now had I not read the cards written to her.  I think I made a good choice choosing her journals and correspondence.

There is so much more I could tell you but I have already gone over my quota of words.  I said all that to say this, I think the way mama’s possessions were handled was a mighty fine idea.  None of us walked away disappointed or angry.  We honored mama’s request.  If you are facing a similar situation give some discussion as to how you might best handle the circumstances for all involved before the problems or hurt feelings crop up.  And you just might want to read Marni Jameson’s book.

Following is a poem that I thought would be more appropriate than anything I could write again.  As you can see this poem was written over 4 years ago but I would like to share it with you.  And remember, it’s never too late to send someone a greeting by mail.  It is sure to put a smile on their face.

 

The Gift of a Letter

Kathleen Martens

March 21, 2012

 

Simple words written down

By someone of no great renown.

From the heart written true

To convey a message new.

 

Words of thought written with pleasure

That someday become someone’s treasure.

Informative or perhaps mundane

To be carried down the lane.

 

Touched by fingers, composed from heart,

Folded neatly to depart,

Slipped inside a flat cocoon

To be delivered very soon.

 

Stamped and licked before it’s sent

And when received seal is rent.

Then a smile lights anew

Knowing someone thought of you!

 

Thank You God for wonderful memories.

Thank You God for a mother who loved You.

And Thank You for a mother who loved me.

Thank You Lord that we are Your letters.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU.

 

P.S.

I wrote another poem just now to add to the one above.

 

SENT WITH LOVE

By Kathleen Martens

June 9, 2016

 

Thank You God for the gift of letters,

Thank You for words spoken true.

Scribbled pictures and holiday cards

Are all smiles stamped to view.

 

Thank You for the sunshine

That words quietly bring.

When like apples of gold

 They cause the heart to sing.

 

Thank You God for thoughts

Others share from their heart

So that our ordinary day

Will have a lovely start.

 

Thank You for envelopes

That are neatly sealed,

Sent with so much love

For you, only revealed.

 

I hope you receive a lovely letter from someone soon!

 

 

 

 

Wednesday June 8 2016  WHERE DOES A DAY GO?

Busy all day, but what have I accomplished?  Is that a question you ever ask yourself?  I would rather be able to see results for what I do, rather than have a lot of little things to do that just take up time.  And that was what today was all about.  Very short time to write tonight and I have some interesting things I hope to eventually write about before I forget them.   

Earlier today while in meditation with the Lord I felt that I was to share what I wrote yesterday morning in my journal.  So this blog will be short and I will use a poem I wrote yesterday.  I wrote a very short poem earlier today but you get yesterday’s leftover.  It came as a song and I realized it when I wrote the first line.  I like it when I write lyrics that I would love to see put to music.  Someday I think it will happen.  One thing I have is lots of hope.

Following the poem are the words I received in my heart when I finished writing the lyrics.

 

I AM HERE TO WORSHIP YOU

By Kathleen Martens

June 7, 2016

 

I am here to worship You,

I am here to give praise

To the Almighty King of kings,

The creator of all days.

 

I am here to worship You

And glorify Your great name,

You who died for my sin,

Your blood covering my shame.

 

I am here to worship You,

The Almighty who reigns on high.

The giver of all life and love

Who sacrificed Himself to die.

 

I am here to worship You Lord,

My Strong Tower against the foe.

For You have overcome the world,

Your spirit is wherever I go.

 

I am here to worship You

For the renewing of my mind,

And for Your transforming me

To be as Your like kind.

 

I am here to worship You,

For You keep me in perfect peace.

And Your love is everlasting,

My hope in You will never cease.

 

I am here to worship You Lord

Just for who You Are,

The God and Creator of the universe,

My bright and shining star.

 

Sing a new song in your heart.  Continually lift My name.  Focus on My scripture to understand more about who I Am.  Now are your days to seek out who I Am.  Fill yourself with the knowledge of your Creator.  I Am the Beginning, the First and the Last.  I long for my children to know Me.  I desire the intimacy we share.  Come and know My heart just as I know yours.  You are created for My pleasure.  It is My joy to share My love with you.  I will never leave you or forsake you.  Come and drink from My fountain of life and My river of delight will flow through you.  My arms are everlasting.  Come and be with Me.  Rest in My presence.

God delights in the time we focus on Him.  It may be while we’re in the car driving to work, lying in bed at night or just sitting in a chair.   We need to focus on His love for us as we give Him praise and thanks for who He Is.  And remember to listen to what God may be speaking into your heart.

 

Thank You God for the words You impress upon me.

Thank You for loving me so deeply.

Thank You Father that nothing can separate me from the love that You have for me.

Romans 8:38-39 

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS EACH OF YOU!

 

Tuesday June 7 2016  HEADING SOUTH

It is a late night for me and I’m just beginning to type my blog.  So I do hope it is very short as I would like to get up by 4:30 a.m. or a little after.

As we age, which all of us are currently actively doing, our bodies are continually changing.  We see the most rapid changes in newborns as we witness their fast growing bodies changing by the week.  We watch the toddler and school age kids and notice the yearly changes as they grow and mature.  The years mount on into adolescence, teen years, and then young adults.  And all the while cells are multiplying and dividing, dying as others rejuvenate the body.  And for a long time things seems to go steadily along, not much outward change, but a lot going on inside those wonderful machines we so often take for granted.  We may put on a few pounds (or a lot), exercise or not, eat too much or not enough, and we really don’t give our bodies much thought or appreciation.  UNTIL…

All of a sudden we feel a bit creaky here or there.  One day it might be something simple like a big toe with shooting pain.  Another day we wake up and an elbow might be a little cranky.  A few days pass and all works well until we wake up and put our feet on the ground and find that the knee has a shooting pain in it that wasn’t there when we got up in the middle of the night for a bathroom run.  And as many parts as the body has, any one part might bring to your attention that it too has a gripe.  And as quickly as a few minutes, a few hours or even a few days the pain will just disappear as quickly and unexpectedly as it made its appearance.

Well, that happens more and more frequently as the years pass.  I used to look at really old people (the ones who were 50 or older) and wonder how did they get so decrepit.  Well, I will be glad to inform you how.  First of all it didn’t just happen all in one day.  No sir!  It snuck up on them silently and unaware, just one little part of them “going south” at a time.  First the toe, then the elbow, then the knee and all of the other little surprises.  They go and come like quiet thieves in in the night.  You never know how they got in but they can sure cause a lot of damage.

Dave and I call our sneaky little visitors “The flavor of the day”.  But now as Dave and I have gotten older than we ever thought imaginable, those little visitors seem to hang on a bit longer, are not so inclined to leave as quickly as they came.  And slowly it becomes a constant companion.  As I was thinking about this morning while I was journaling the following poem slithered into my journal through aching fingers.

 

HEADING SOUTH

By Kathleen Martens

June 7, 2016

 

Little pieces at a time

Seem to be heading south.

For me I suppose I’m fortunate

That it is not my mouth.

 

Because I have so much to say

As thoughts swirl in my head,

And this way I can speak what I write

And others can hear what I’ve said.

 

But my feet have long since gone

And thankfully surgery brought them home.

And my knee, reservations sought

But I pampered it to no longer roam.

 

And my elbow said farewell

And was gone for quite some time.

And after it returned to work

My shoulder wished to be supine.

 

Every morning when I wake

I seem to have a new flavor of pain.

It seems to roam from place to place

As if such gallivanting is only a game.

 

And as the years take their toll

I’ve learned to compensate.

And when my body parts take a vacation,

I would love to give in and luxuriate!

 

However life has its own demands

And I choose to work despite the pain.

I do not want to give up too soon

For too quickly I’d then wain.

 

I’d rather do what I can do,

Perhaps differently than I did before,

Because in living there is great satisfaction

And I anticipate the joy in store.

 

So, although my body complains

I’ll take care to pamper my health,

And learn new ways to handle the losses

Because enjoying life, is my true wealth.

 

God, thank You for an absolutely amazing body.

Thank You too for giving us the wisdom we need to take care of our health.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND MAY GOD BLESS YOU AND GIVE YOU HEALTH