Christmas Endures

Our table has been full for most of my life. Family always a big part of our celebrations. Food plentiful along with laughter.

As the years have gone by the numbers have grown and then began to dwindle.

The grandchildren  are making their on family moving away to start their own traditions.Our children have made their own lives connected with their children and in-laws.

This year COVID-19 took it’s toll and for safety reasons, we are fewer. 

Christmas will come and we will celebrate with fewer around the table. But what counts is the love that is still felt and the Birth of a Risen Savior

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The Town and Train

 There is another surface below the glass top.  Andrew built a town complete with two polar bears holding their pans out to collect for St Judes, Mary and Baby Jesus to bless those who give. His story not mine.  

The train, we were not going to put out because it was too big for the tree.  He kept asking and insisting until God opened my eyes to the possibility. Andrew went to work, all happy now. Well almost, it’s whistle blows and I have to limit play time.  

🚂🚂🚂🚂🚂🚂🚂🚂🚂

November 22, 2017

 Day 23..6 am. This was supposed to be 5-7 days. I wonder God's plan and wait for an answer.  There is no light at the end of the tunnel yet.  

His vitals are considered good, even though occasionally his BP drops or his heart races at 120 and his blood sugar over 200.   But, they just give him insulin or whatever Med he needs to control the problem. 

He is improving physically. He still mixes words up or just goes off to his own world.  We almost lost him on November 2 and  I don't know if there is damage from that. I am past believing it's all drug induced. They use terms like hospital psychosis or Sundowners.  I just want my husband back in a healthy state top to bottom.

 November 17, 2017

Our Journey

Day 17  I am sitting here listening to Wade snore. Something 16 days ago , I did not know if I would ever hear that rattling sound again. Sweet music to my ears now. 

He is improving physically. Where he had 4 chest tubes, he now has one.  The most troubling tube and the most important the NG, which he has now pulled out twice creating panic across the board.  

He still wanders off into the fog of his mind and that is worrisome.  Sometime his BP tanks or his oxygen level.  Either gets action or careful watch adjusting meds accordingly. 

He has come a long way and still a long way to go. This is our journey together.

Friends and Confidants

 The older you get,the tighter the circle gets each year

If you can, hang on to the old and welcome the new

      Thank you for being a friend, confidant ,a listening ear

Those we can share our innermost feelings are few.

When I lost Wade, I lost my best friend, my lover, my confidant, and my conspirator.  He is hard to replace, no impossible to replace.  I was left with my thoughts,worries and no one to share them with. That is not only scary, but lonely.  

 There are a couple of friends that I trust, when things go wrong.  Friends that I can talk to, share my feelings.  They encourage me and console me.They are not my companion and I still have only my thoughts. I am still lonely.  

 

Almost Thanksgiving

Here we are in the season of giving thanks.The calendar page has rolled over and we begin planning for that big dinner we have on the fourth Thursday every November. The President has proclaimed that day will be a day of National Thanksgiving and so we are.What are we thankful for, turkey, dressing and all the fixings. Yes, but what else?

We live in a world of fear.  This year we have COVID.  Thousands and thousands  of families touched by this terror. A terror that took lives, closed businesses, took jobs, many confined to their homes. and children locked out of school. 

Our children are not safe from predators. They are snatched almost in front of our eyes and used in the most perverse ways imaginable. Taken by people so evil it is hard to believe they have souls.

We and our children are not safe from mad men who in their confused minds perceive us as enemies and plot to shoot us downs and sadly succeed all of too frequently.

What do we have to be thankful for?
This year even after delays because of COVID and political wrangling, we were able to cast our ballot in a free from tyranny society.

Businesses are slowly reopening, sadly some closed forever, jobs are opening and our schools 

Jesus our Lord and Savior, who hears prayers and answers. 
Freedom to worship.

Freedom to love
Freedom to tell the story of God’s Love for us
Family and friends
We have food on our table, clothes on our back, a roof over our head

And a home that is warm in winter.
We have a lot to be thankful for, more than we know
Say a prayer for those who had their joy taken by evil
Say a prayer for those whose joy has been tempered by illness
Or lost someone from one of the many diseases we need a cure for.
Say a prayer for all those missing someone
Say a prayer for all those who serve to protect us.
God Bless America!
God please save America!

Believe it or Not

Joe Biden is the projected President Elect of The United States of America.  The biggest problem he faces  is the word United.  The country is anything but United. It has not been for years and it did not start with Donald Trump. The two major political parties are the major contributors  

Truthfully, I expected four more years of the turmoil that we as a country have experienced since the kick off of the 2016 Election   I cannot say that I am not glad to see Donald Trump gone from office  I cannot say that I have an over abundance of confidence in Joe Biden.  

We need better choices  We need term limits on Congress.  We need a better voting system with equal guidelines across the country.  We need a lot of reform  We will see   

I wish Joe Biden well, he was the only choice I could live with.  I pray that he and those surrounding him will serve and have the best interest of this country at heart.

Choose well President Elect Biden. 

Aunt Willene

My childhood playmates were my cousins. One set in Atlanta, the other in a small farming community, Rainsville, Alabama, in North East Alabama. I grew up in Atlanta and when we went to Papa’s we were going to the mountain, Sand Mountain.

Mama and Papa Newman lived in a two story typical farm house with a front and back porch, both suited for sitting  The front porch had a double rocker and a single  Depending on the number visiting maybe an  odd chair or two  The back porch ran almost if not the length of the house  This is where you snapped beans, shucked corn or shelled peas  At sometime or another there was a wringer washing machine, a #2 washtub that the kids washed the grime off their body  it was usually brought inside for that or not  At the very end of the back porch was the well, yes there was a bucket, rope, dipper and yes I I did drink from it  

Mama Newman died in 1957 and Papa lived there alone for a while. I’m not sure of the reason, but after that I would go for a week or two in the Summer.  I cannot remember any extended stay before Mama Newman died  We would go before Christmas, maybe Thanksgiving, and draw names for Christmas  I only remember that happening one time, but I was young.  I have pictures of us all gathering in the warmer days, but I was very young and have no memory of them. 

Aunt Willene, Uncle Clarence and the girls, Myra Nell, Barbara Ann “Bob”, Carol, and Marcia, lived in a house that adjoined Papa’s land.  It was a two minute walk on a dirt path/driveway to their house with a large garden in between houses. Aunt Willene always met you with a warm smile and always made you feel welcome, whether she did or not you would never know.  She always seemed glad to see you come and sorry to see you go.

Uncle Clarence eventually bought Papa’s house and they moved in with him   My teen years, I most remember.  Aunt Willene still welcomed us all with open arms even with the extra work it brought.

My best memory of her is standing in the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron and smiling when you came through the door   She loved to tease with the kids  She had a hard life, but gave joy where she could. She was short in statue, but it never stopped, nor even I don’t believe slowed her down  

Alzheimer’s slowly took her away from us. The last time I saw her, she still had that sweet smile  I like to think she knew she was surrounded by love.  

Callie Myrtle Crafton Dodson

I was studying the stats on a grandmother that I never met.  She was born in 1889 in a rural farming community in South Georgia.  

Her father died sometime before April 1910, leaving 5 daughters, all under 20 and a wife. They could read and write, but never attended school. The 1910 Census says they were farm workers and hired out.  They worked in other folks fields  

The story goes that she and my grandfather corresponded and met up in Atlanta. They ate a meal, then got married, October 15, 1910. They were living in Atlanta until at least 1911.  He was a newspaper vendor, meaning he sold them on the street.

The next record I have is a Draft Registration in 1917 and they were back in South Georgia. In the 1920 Census they were living in South Georgia with my uncle, age 16 from his first marriage and two more children  Two more children were born, the last in 1923.  

My grandmother died May 16, 1925. The saddest thing it was noted, that after a hard days work, she collapsed and died 6 hours later. She was 35.   The Death Certificate also said buried by friends. 

Genealogy

 I have delved back into the search for my roots, not my hair, to where and who I came from. It goes from dull boring things I already knew to interesting, to who’s going to believe this.  

I could be my own grandma, not really, but picking were slim in some places and time. For instance, my great grandfather’s daughter married.  She had among others, a son who in turn married my grandmother’s oldest sister    

I am my husband’s 7th cousin on my father’s side.  My daughter in law’s mother’s 7th cousin one removed, whatever that means, and that is on my mother’s side. We actually thought it a good possibility we would be related through my husband’s family, but no go   

One researcher thinks my husband descended from some Native Americans from Jamestown and had unpronounceable names.  I looked at the research and with nothing but European showing up in my and Wade’s DNA, it’s washed out.  

More later, if I find anything else   

11 going on 40

 

Happy

 

The Future?

We are in the midst of a pandemic. A word I had heard, but I had not really considered as a threat to our modern country.  But it’s definition is whole country or whole world.  It appears that we are in the  midst of a pandemic.  COVID-19. First introduced as Corona Virus. Beer sale plummeted and a new name COVID-19. Our world has changed. 

The government First ordered or recommended washing hands, wearing mask and social distancing 6’ apart.  Then they closed all retail stores except those considered essential. Some were understandable, some hard to see. That of course brought massive job loss. Furloughed is the word used, somehow not as harsh as we’re closed, no idea when or if we’ll ever open again. File for your Unemployment.

Month nine, stores have closed forever, some stores on the brink.Schools are iffy at best. Some are e-learning and others face to face. 

Debates on all fronts, is this real, is it as bad as advertised, do mask work? Debate on whether our rights are being trampled on by government demanding we wear a mask in public. Are we a good neighbor or as others suggest being duped?  

I think we are being duped by a lot of things, I’m not sure this is one.  Do we risk our well being and stand up. I think there’s other more pressing things that we need to take a very close look at. 

Character

Do I have what it takes 

Do I have the fortitude 

Start over, pull up stakes

To live alone in solitude?

Do I have what it takes

Do I have the where with all

To own up to all my mistakes

The consequences to haul

Have I really got it together

to say that I’ve had enough

Here through all the weather

Thick or thin times were tough

I’m now ready to call it my goose

I’m now ready to call it my day

I should have turned you loose

You no longer need me to pay.  

🍀

Mama and Papa Newman

 

Grandmother died suddenly when I was 11. I remember the day.  Daddy came to school to get me and my cousins and I knew immediately there was something wrong. This was my first experience with death and sorrow. 

Mama and Papa Newman lived in a rural mountain farming community, Rainsville, Alabama is still pretty much that way today.

Mama and Papa  were farming people in 1957. Grandmother ((Mama Newman) lay in state in a casket in the living room of their home.  Some of the family sat up with her at night. I remember watching her as she lay there and thought I could almost see her move. It was not a scary time, but a sad interesting time.

I looked in the mirror after someone commented I looked like her.  Maybe, but I think I look more like my Dad. I would love to have her hair, it was coal black and she wore it pulled back in a bun. I remember watching her brush it out.  I don’t remember much about her. She was kind and quiet.

I remember going to the barn to watch her milk the cow. The cow switched it’s tail and hit me in the eye. I was so upset when I told what happened, I got my word jumbled which made the story more amusing to the adults.  I truly wish I had more time with her and more memories.  

 Papa Newman was a jolly man. Tall and alway neatly dressed. He loved attention and expected it when his grandchildren came through the door.  

Their life was not easy, Papa was a farmer. Corn and cotton fields and always a garden for fresh vegetables.  10 children to work in the fields, tend the babies and help with the different chores. My Mother was not impressed with the “Good Ole Days”. She did not think them so good.  They would hoe the corn, picked it, shucked it, cut it off the cobb and can it.  They chopped cotton, picked it dragging big cloth sacks, hands bleeding from the bolls unless you had gloves. It then was dumped into a wagon and hauled to the mill to be ginned.  Papa raised hogs and had cows and chicken.  

There was always something to do.  

Papa never owned a car, he had 2 horses and a wagon.   

Mother’s Day

Since 1957, we have traveled to Rainsville on Sand Mountain every Mother’s Day
First to Papa Newman’s where we gathered and caravanned to the cemetery, where Mama Newman had been laid to rest in March. We would then returned to the house for dinner on the ground.  All my Aunts would cook a dish and the food was something to look forward to.
We changed from gathering at the house and gathered at the cemetery, returning to the house.
The house eventually would become Uncle Clarence’s., Papa still lived there with them.
We grew as my cousins began their own families.  Then we lost an Aunt and Papa the same year
After several years, Aunt Louise took over and we began to have dinner at her home in Henagar.
I’ve missed a few but not many.  Most in the last few years.

This year is different. We are all getting older and we have lost some cousins.  Aunt Louise and Uncle Loyd are the last.I sincerely hope we can gather later this year. It seems urgent to me not to miss this one.

This year 2020 we have been hit by a pandemic, COVID-19, which puts most of us at risk. We cannot gather and I fear that 2021 will not be the same.    

Decisions

There is a place in my living room that is in need of life. I almost have the room perfect, but it could use a minor tweak.  Between the mirror hanging on the wall and a small commode table is a blank space.  I actually have two blank spots. The other is behind an accent chair covered with a quilt given to me by a friend and beside the roll top desk.
My first thought a Ficus might be nice. I looked at the spaces I had.  As I was pondering, the mail truck came and I went to the mailbox.  I sat down to look at the mail and had a few cookies.

Deciding I needed to know more about Ficus, I opened my lap top and Googled Ficus. Wow, it takes a lot to keep them alive and healthy. I need to rethink this. Hey, post it on Facebook my friends are alway eager to help. I checked my Notifications, some cute memes to share. I’ll just play one game of Candy Crush, I’ve been on this one level for a week. Oh, look at the clock. It is time to start dinner.  There is always tomorrow.

King of the Jungle

Should Lions be called King?
It does have a most royal ring
He holds his head most high
I bet the lioness always sigh

On his head a flowing mane
His tail long with tuft plain
His family properly a Pride
Males, females, cubs abide.

Wikipedia has all the facts
If you are following the tracks
Go to Africa to find his home
The Bush is where he will roam

A favorite to see in his habitat
Behind barriers is my advise
Though majestic, he’s a big cat
Getting close is not very wise.

African Lion is beautiful to see

But not for me and I do not lie

The zoo is the best place to be
For I do not want to be a cat pie.

Memory From Three Years Ago

.Palliative care (pronounced pal-lee-uh-tiv) is specialized medical care for people with serious illness. This type of care is focused on providing relief from the symptoms and stress of a serious illness. The goal is to improve quality of life for both the patient and the family.

I did not know what to ask for.  It was not the outcome we expected 46 days ago. I was thankful Wade was still with me and angry at the suffering he has endured.

The Doctor’s Nurse came back in to talk with us.  She suggested Hospice as opposed to Palliative care. There is no real hope that he will recover. There will be no reconstruction surgery, the cancer is spreading. There is no way to improve his quality of life.  We are going home to die. At least we will be out of that hell hole called hospital and away from the doctor who murdered Wade.

The tube and the shunt will not stay in. I ask is there is a machine through Hospice that will allow him to suction the secretions by hand, rather than torture him more There is, not ideal, but manageable. Better than the torture of an NG Tube he endured for 46 days.

With Hospice set up an ambulance ride and we were on our way home. Home to bedlam. Everything we needed was there, but no one to help us figure everything out.  A frantic call to hospice and several hours, we finally had “help”.

It took several days, frantic calls, before we were able to pull things together.  The biggest help was our children. The oldest lives out of State, he would come every other weekend to help.  The other living out of State came when he could.  The others jumped in every day.  I would not be sane if not for my children.

I found when you are terminal, you do not get the best. Wade had a feeding tube. He endured the pain  of having to have it reinserted numerous times. The reason, catheter tubing instead of the correct feeding tube. Our first trip to the ER one day, the Hospice Nurse at the hospital came in  and pointed it out to ER Doc. He ignored her and put back in the same tubing. The second trip that same day, the Hospice Nurse again was there, we had a different Doctor and she found and put in the correct  tubing.  It lasted to the end.

 Oh, and you cannot go to any ER. We wound up at a hospital 40 miles from home and because we were discharged with Hospice from there, we could only go to that ER.  I tried, I took Wade to an ER 10 miles from home and they would not touch him.

We came home December 16, 2017 and he left us February 8, 2018.

Why it happened the way it did, I don’t know. Why he had to endure the suffering  he did, I don’t know. I will never know.  I know he did and he bore it well.

Wrist Fall Out

I started my New Year with a bang or I guess a thud. I fell New Years Day.  I fractured my wrist, my left wrist. I am left handed and have Essential Tremor.  ET presents on my left side, so I am already left impaired.  I took the normal trip to the ER and then to Orthopedic Dr.  

Trying a hobby?

I have decided to knit an Afghan, the big problem, I do not know how to knit. I looked at the clock, I have two hours to go to the mall before I start dinner. 

Thirty minutes later I was walking into the mall. I checked the Directory and headed out. I knew the color yarn I wanted, Forest Green. 

As I walked the mall, I spotted the most beautiful glassware. I had to stop and check them out. I looked, debated and calculated. The yarn would have to wait. Ring it up cashier. 

After all, I don’t know how to knit.

Found on Pinterest. 

Go back 8 Years

Written by Alan Lewis

What's 40 Years Worth?

January 28, 2012 at 5:12 PM

I have a father. All of us do, it is a natural fact that you don't get here without one. Not even Jesus can claim this. But, I also have Dad. There is a distinct difference, and my Dad is a pretty special guy.

A little over 40 years ago, one of my aunts was working at the KMart on Cleveland Ave. in Atlanta. Her boss was my Dad. Only he didn't know it yet. My aunt introduced my mother, Donna Dodson to her boss. I guess he liked what he saw, he asked her out to dinner. Her reply "I have to call my parents, they are watching my son."(ME). Now, at this point Wade Lewis has a choice to take. To continue with this dinner invitation, and see what develops, or cut it off right there. He already has two children from a previous marriage. Does he really need the burden of raising someone else's son? Undaunted,(apparently) he moves forward.

To make a long story short, they are married. January 29, 1972. Shortly after this, he gives me the first of two wonderful gifts. His name. He adopts me into his family. At some point I go speak to a judge in a courthouse, I don't remember much about it, and I walk out as James Alan Lewis. A few years later, he gives me the second wonderful gift.He takes my hand and walks me down the Roman's Road to Salvation through Christ Jesus, who also gives me a new name. Christian. 

Me and my Dad haven't always seen eye to eye. I have caused him immeasurable anguish through the years. But, he was not the only one. Through rebellion and pride I caused hurt to both my Dad, and Jesus. But I learned valuable lessons.

1. They both forgave me. I learned how to forgive from my Dad.

2. They both love me. I learned how to love from my Dad.

My Dad taught me how to be a DAD, how to be a husband, how to be a son, how to be a son in law. And how to be a friend, a lesson I did not learn from him until he taught me respect. Both how to give it and receive it. I have three brothers. They were not chosen by him. I was. My perspective of my Dad is unique among the four of us because of that fact. 

January 29, 1972 James Alan (Mitchell) Donna Gail (Dodson) Wade Harvey Lewis at Lakewood Heights Baptist Church, Atlanta, GAJanuary 29, 1972 James Alan (Mitchell) Donna Gail (Dodson) Wade Harvey Lewis at Lakewood Heights Baptist Church, Atlanta, GA

This might sound like an honor reserved for father's day. But my Mother had to choose him too. January 29, 2012 marks 40 years. What's 40 years worth? Everything. Happy Anniversary.