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No Regrets

A few weeks ago my husband received a phone call from his mom. She was letting us know that Tom’s dad was being placed on hospice care. Hospice care is essentially end of life care. It’s an effort to make the patient as comfortable as possible as they are dying. Now please know that although Tom is only 30, his father is 80. Tom is the 12th of 13 children so this was not wholly unexpected. And at this point, though it will be hard to lose his father, we both agree that it won’t be a negative thing. Along with other medical conditions, Tom’s dad has Parkinsons and his quality of life is very poor.

Of course, it could be months before anything happens but Tom flew out to Utah for the weekend after the phone call to spend some time with his dad and family. His father can’t even get out of bed some days. Other times he has so little control of his legs it’s dangerous for him to try walking around the house because he stumbles badly. He’s had to give up his woodworking hobby as well.

It just breaks my heart and I will be none to sad when he his released from a body that has become a prison. I’ll be so happy for him when he passes on and is greeted by his first wife who died many years ago. You see, I believe in life after death with all my being. This crazy place we live in, it’s only one stage in our existence. There is so much to learn and do and become after we pass on.

Knowing he might pass soon has made me pause and think more closely about my life. If I knew I were going to die soon, what regrets would I have? What would I have wished I could have accomplished or seen? Would I feel too much had been left undone?

I look at Tom’s father, a father of 13 children, grandfather to 40+ and great grandfather to many. A man not without fault, but one whose intentions have been noble. A man who has performed hard physical labor all his life to feed his large family, one who genuinely loves them and all of his posterity. A man who is loved in return.

What I feel is most important to experience and do before passing on, I have already accomplished. I feel the beauty, every day, of unconditional love from my husband and children and I love them, every day, just as deeply. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other things I would want to do or people I would want to help, or ways I could be a better person. But if I should pass before old age has a chance to claim me, I would not want anyone to feel it a tragedy for my sake. Life continues on after this and the only ones we need truly sorrow for are those left behind on earth.

I’m glad Tom’s father has had such a long time to live and learn on this earth. We don’t all get that chance so it’s important to make the most of every day we are given. That doesn’t mean making radical life changes all at once. It means doing little things each day to better ourselves and the lives of those we love, so that whenever we find ourselves going back to our heavenly home, we’ll have joy in what we did accomplish and a clear conscience in knowing we were trying to do more.

Not sure what to think

My grandmother had her first panic attack when she was about 25, her mother had her first panic attack when she was about 25. I was 24ish I believe when I first had one, though I didn’t know what it was then, I can look back now and see with clarity that is exactly what it was.

I have to wonder, based on this information if panic attacks can be hereditary. There are many different triggers for them but my grandmother has been told she has a heart condition that might cause them. It’s called mitral valve prolapse and guess what ? It’s hereditary. And guess what types of symptoms may be exhibited? The same kind you get when you’re having a panic attack.

What I’m not sure about, is why I seem to be having more panic attacks of late. It is, I admit, more frightening when they come on super suddenly. The other night just out of the blue I felt my pulse rise. My heart began to race, my teeth began to chatter, my muscles started spasming. I was glad I had Tom home. He held me for a bit without even knowing what was happening. But at one point I took a deliberately slow, shuddery breath (in an effort to calm my body) and it alerted him.

“Trying to have a panic attack?” he asked seriously.

“Trying NOT to,” I said back with a smile. And I chuckled.

As the terror and paralyzation and physical symptoms were spreading through me, I chuckled. How is it possible to feel hopeful and playful in the midst of something so terrifying? One thing comes to mind: sometimes it’s the only thing you can do.

It helps that I know there will be an end to it. That the symptoms will abate. That it doesn’t matter why they started or when they’ll leave, just that they will. And I can laugh at the thought of my ridiculously spasming muscles, and my ridiculous chattering teeth in our 78 degree apartment because the symptoms are only temporary. It’s just another storm to maneuver through. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours.

But I have hope through every storm because experience has shown me, storm clouds always part.

Possibilities

When I realized that the temperature today would be an amazing 73 degrees, I took Sassy outside to play. We grabbed Sassy’s bike and headed downstairs to ride around on the cement in front of our apartment complex.

After a time, Sassy and I decided to play in the leaves. As we crunched the fallen beauties beneath our feet I tried to explain to her about why the leaves were on the ground. I told her about Autumn and how the leaves fall off the trees. I knew that she immediately understood because she got a shocked look on her face and asked sadly, “Leaf fall off a trees?” I nodded and was worried she might cry from the news when her look turned into one of contemplation. After a moment she picked up a leaf on the ground, held it as high over her head as she could and then jumped up and threw the leaf. Unbeknownst to her, it fluttered behind her head and back onto the ground. She turned to me looking very satisfied and yelled happily, “I did it!!”

Her sweet little intention then became to throw every leaf back onto the tree it came off of. And I watched her pick up leaf after leaf, throwing each above her head, not knowing that each one drifted back to the ground behind her. And really, she’s two so it’s not important to say anything. Right now I just love that when she sees something she wants to fix, she has no thought of being unable to do so. Everything is possible for her and I want her to hold onto that for a while yet.

I went through a period of time where nothing seemed possible. Instead of blossoming at the same age many children and teenagers do, I retreated farther into my shell. I was convinced that the dreams I used to believe in were undeniably impossible and I thought to blame others for that mind set. But I was the inventor of my own misery. And miserable I was.

My immediate thought when I saw or heard of something beautiful, helpful, amazing or otherwise was that I could never do that thing or be that kind of person. I was just me and in my opinion I was pretty crummy.

Nothing happened all at once to change my mind, to help me realize I had imposed my own boundaries. But slowly, over time and because of many events, I saw my dreams again and had hope that they could come to fruition. I became more like my little toddler throwing leaves up into the air believing that they could find their way back to the tree. Of course, I’m realistic. I know that there are things I will simply never have time in this life to accomplish but if I really want to learn something or do something or be something then the only person stopping me from trying is me. And effort is the essential part. As I write this I think of a poem I wrote as a teenager:

Seasons change and so shall I
Under Heavens watchful eye.
The better path, unrealized
Is often narrow or disguised.
Ever yearning, ever seeking
Endless havoc in me wreaking.

Over contemplative sessions
Wielding forth my true confessions.
Earnest pleas for better being
Now my heart within me fleeing.
Someday I may make the measure,
Of the me I long to treasure.

I am in no way perfect but I think I’m pretty close to actually being the me I once desired to be. I’ve erased my own boundaries, I’m constantly striving to learn new things and I’m ever open to improving myself or changing my opinions. The possibilities for what I do and who I continue to become are limitless and it’s invigorating. It’s exciting! It’s freedom!

I’ll be the shortest one in the family someday

I think I’ve mentioned my husband is 6 foot 4. A veritable neanderthal, or so I call him at times. I certainly didn’t inherit gianticus babyus bearing genes from my mother. Sassy, my most recent child and largest at birth was 10 lbs. 2 oz. I was a mere 6lbs. 15oz.

Anyway, this:

This is my SEVEN year old son, wearing my sandal. He’s just 1 1/2 inches away from fitting perfectly into MY shoes! By the time he’s 10 he’ll be towering over me.

It’s a good thing I don’t discipline with physical means ’cause I’d soon be losing that edge.

Making progress

Two weeks ago I got sick. It was on Friday afternoon that I started feeling achy with a little twinge of pain in my throat. Saturday it got worse. By Saturday night my throat was very sore. I was pretty sure it was strep so on Sunday morning I headed to a walk in clinic. They confirmed it was indeed strep and prescribed me some antibiotics which I picked up at Walmart. Then I took the horse sized pills home and just looked at them.

You see, I have this fear of taking medicine with an anti-depressant. It kinda stems from this little experience. I avoid taking medicine whenever I can. Advil is one I know to be fine and that’s pretty much it. Even when I had mastitis after Sassypants was born, I wouldn’t get antibiotics. I took the painful route and stood in the shower for 45 minutes crying as I massaged the lump out of my breast. It worked and I didn’t have to see the doctor.

But strep is different. I only went to the doctor because I felt very very sick. My body was the achiest I think it’s ever been. It was very painful and I sat looking at the antibiotics knowing that I might get much sicker if I didn’t take them. But there was the nagging worry in the back of my head about some kind of interaction. After getting lots of reassurance from my husband that the two medicines don’t work in the same way I swallowed the pill and did my best to forget about it.

Then approximately 2 1/2 hours after I’d taken it, out of the blue, I felt that awful, horrifying surge of nausea and fear and hot streaks zapping through my body and I thought, I’m screwed. But this time I knew it was a panic attack and I knew logically that it probably just had to do with my working up my fears over taking the antibiotic. So I laid down on the couch trying to stay calm. It was hard not to think, “I don’t want to die” or “I’m going to die” as each surge of terror welled up to its strongest point and then began to abate. But I lay still telling myself that I would be ok, trying not to cause the panic to become worse. It was about 30 minutes of struggle and then, just as my family got back from church, it ceased. I knew it hadn’t been the antibiotics after all and that now I could add antibiotics and anti-depressants to my “safe to take together list”.

It was terrible to feel that out of control over my body and emotions again, even if it was just for that little bit. But as I look back on it, I see myself laying on the couch, eyes closed, concentrating on trying to breathe slowly. Doing everything I could to calm a heart that was racing as though I was running for my life. From the outside, anyone who saw me would have thought I was just trying to nap on the couch. But inside I felt I was fighting for my very existence.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. At feeling the terror and being able to keep a calm demeanor externally. There have been many times out in public where I’ve had an attack come on and I know that the people I was around never knew it. I’m so proud of that. I know I may not always be able to hold it together, but most of the time I can do so because I know what is happening to my body and mind in that moment. And because of my horrid experience a few years ago I have the patience to wait it out, thinking encouraging thoughts all the while so I doesn’t aggravate and elongate the episode.

As I sat there trying to calm my body I kept thinking, “I’ll be okay. This is my lot in life. It will always be my lot in life, but I’ll be okay.” And you know what, I will. I have a family and a Heavenly Father who loves me. And whether fear or pain or death knock at my door, in the end, I will be okay.

Original Piano Compositions

I haven’t really written any new pieces for 9 years now. Everything I wrote was between 14-18 years of age. Maybe I’ll try to come up with something new sometime. For now, here is the first piano piece I ever wrote. I was 14. I still don’t have a name for it. I also don’t know why my video program keeps cutting off the S in my last name. How annoying!

Lessons Learned from Veggie Tales

Recently the Family Review Network gave me the opportunity to sign up to receive and review a copy of the Veggie Tales DVD: Minnesota Cuke and the search for Noah’s Umbrella.

I can say after watching this, the the more I see of Veggie Tales, the more I really love and appreciate it. They’re all about teaching morals and values that in our society, are quickly disintegrating.

Minnesota Cuke sort of spoofs Indiana Jones and one of his adventures in this cute show. He has to learn along the way that you have to do the right thing, even if people are mocking you. I think it’s an extremely important lesson to be teaching, because more than ever, we find the voices of those who would mock us for our spirituality and morality, rising.

Doing the right thing is rarely ever easy but if we don’t manage it, who will? I know that I am my children’s most important teacher, but every teaching aid helps and Veggie Tales is a perfect series for that. I highly recommend this DVD and would like to say thanks to the Family Review Network for giving me a free copy of it for our family to enjoy.