Please lock me away in a nice warm place and feed me hot food!

Welcome to the Hospice House of Sangre de Cristo on Abriendo Avenue here in beautiful Pueblo, Colorado.  

This is where I will be spending the next 2 days in volunteer training.  I had 2 friends that were going with me, but that may be changing since this is what happened here yesterday and last night.

I am not a fan of winter and I am sure not a fan of driving in this stuff, but I shall.  That is the only way I know to get from point A ( my house) to point B (Abriendo Inn).  Of course before I can do any leaving of point A I need to shovel a trail out to point C (goose house) and feed the critters.  Oh yeah, and take the sledge hammer to break the ice on point D (stock tank).  And shovel to point E (car port). All this makes me think I should be seeking a point F (nice warm 2 room apartment in an assisted living facility complete with some one to shovel outside, a  lady to clean, a dining room down the hall , and clean sheets once a week.)

But since it is too late for that I guess I will jump in the shower, go out into the cold 14 degree weather with my wet hair and every pore of my body open from a hot shower and hope for the best, which means I will walk spraddle legged so I don't fall and break something.  So wish me well and with a little luck I may get on here tonight and write something really worth reading!

Getting rid of the frail old body and moving on up!

Not to be alarmed, kiddies, it is not me!  But yesterday I got a phone call.  A friend is dying and would I come?  Of course!  I left the sewing job I was working on down stairs, put on my bra, and drove across town.  I joined her husband, the minister and a girl from Sangre de Cristo Hospice at her bedside.  She had grown even frailer than the last time I had seen her a week before.  She is at home in a hospital bed in the front room surrounded by the remnants of her life.  Throughout the afternoon a few friends stopped by, more of hospice stopped in, and flowers were delivered.  She did not know it, but we all did.

I looked around the room at pieces of art that represented her life.  There were framed tatted doilies that she had made.  Art work by her daughter.  Pictures of her and Doug when they were young.  Pictures of the kids, the grandkids, the dog, and where had the cat gotten off to anyway?

And everywhere reminders of the activism in thier lives.  I do not know when I met these people nor where.  It seems I had always known them.  The Peace Flotilla, Meals on Wheels, Ghandi Peace Garden, Rally against Amendment #2, on and on.  Always Doug passing out flyers or leading the march and always Dorothy on his arm.  We belong to the same church, and apparently belong to the same causes!

I believe that on this level words are not needed.  I believe the person preparing for the journey knows exactly what is going on and can intercept our thoughts.  So I gave her good ones!  Green valleys, cool sunshine, soft clouds, and the gentlest rain.  I gave her soft music, beautiful flowers, and sweet smells.  I gave her soft kittens and butterflies; and I hope a glimpse of the Holy City where she will live after she flits around the world and fills her head with the knowledge of the ages.  And finished with the face of Jesus, so kind, caring and welcoming with his out stretched arms.  "Come home, Dorothy.  I am waiting."

I had to come home for a while in the evening to do chores.  When I went back Dorothy had quieted.  Her daughters arrived about 10:00.  I think she was waiting for them.  I took my leave so they could say thier goodbyes without a stranger there.  I have not heard this morning and it is kind of early to call, but if I were a betting person, I would bet she is free from her body that held her prisoner and is soaring above us, smiling down and touching us with a peace that is not attainable on this level.

God speed, Dorothy!  See you soon!