Time just keeps right on marching.

 Funny, I thought the world had stopped, but it has not.  It has been 2 weeks today since my life was altered by circumstances far beyond my control, and yet so close to my grasp.  When I say life is funny, I do not mean it in the literal sense.  It is funny in the way that we really think we matter and that we have any control at all over the events that transpire and pull us into a web that is intricately woven by some unseen hand.  The house I used to enjoy going to on Sunday after church is empty and a realtor placed a sign in front of it.  I will not drive by to see if anyone lives there, nor to see if the broken limb has fallen to the street below.

When I pass by the reservoir, I will remember the afternoon we went hiking and I will smile.  When I   drive  down Pueblo Boulevard past Minnequa Lake, I will remember the 3 of us trying to get a small kite into the air and  I will smile. When I go to Sam's club I will remember that he used to buy me a juice called Naked because it had no additives. 

"Hey, Lou!  I got you Naked!"  " Oh, Anthony, I sure hope that is in  a bottle".

Little things that meant nothing now mean so much.  It is almost 6:32, the time my phone pinged that I had a message; the last message I would ever receive from that number.

Yes, life goes on whether we want it to or not.  God is still in his heaven and I still trust him with my life.  I do not know his plan, but I am sure he has one.  Nothing is random and God will never give me more than I can carry.  This I know is true.  And there is one more thing I know that I tend to forget and that is this:  "God never closes a door without opening a window."

Right now I do not know where the window is, but I am sure I will find it and it will lead to peace.  That is how my God rolls!

OMG! It's a YAK!!!

 I can never think of my friend Renate without those words popping into my head.  There are words that could manifest there, such as friend, kind, compassionate, funny, dependable and even sucker, but Yak is the one that is in the fore front of my mind.  And "Yak" is followed by gales of laughter.

Renate is coming today.  I wrote about our reconnecting yesterday or the day before.  I have lost all track of time when it comes to days of the week and I consider it a major accomplishment to know that today is December 4 and it is Friday.  To be honest somebody told me.  My youngest son lives with me and he reminded me that today is Friday and Renate is coming.  And I told him the Yak story before he left for work and he gave me the "poor delusional momma" look as he left.  But I was victorious because I now knew for sure what day it was and that Renate was coming today.  I think it has been close to 10 years since I seen her.

My last memory of her was a trip up to Beulah with her dad and step mom.  Renate and I were in the front seat and she was driving.  Dale Tursi and his wife Val  were in the back seat enjoying the scenery.  We were talking about meaningless things that had transpired the previous week.  We were on our way to Beulah where we planned a drive through the mountains and stopping some where to partake of what ever was in the picnic basket she had packed.  

Since the scenery rarely changes we were just talking and not really paying attention when suddenly about halfway up the drive we both caught sight of animals in a field where cattle belonged.  The cattle had always been there and now we both stared in amazement at 8 or 9 black very strange looking animals which could have been cattle had they not had long hair.  

The words that came out of both our mouths at the same exact time were "What the hell!?  YAKS!!!  Those are Yaks!"  It was so ludicrous that we then dissolved into gales of laughter.  Renate parked and Dale and Val were in a state of confusion.  

Renate pointed at the Yaks and explained.  "Look!  (pause)  Yaks!  I thought they could only live in cold climates!"

I am not sure why, but they were not nearly as amazed as Renate and I by the sight.  They sort of looked at us and shook there heads.  We then continued our day, but I am willing to bet that when Renate reads this she is going to be taken back to that day and she and I are going to have a very good laugh.  

Some things can only be remembered by the people who were there and while I have since learned Yaks can live in Colorado, I have never seen one.  

Renate is my friend.  My mother once told me these words "If you can reach the end of your life and count your true friends on one hand, you are blessed."  And as I set here, I think of many people who have been my friend over the years.  God has blessed me with many friends through the years, but when I follow her criteria, I see she is right.  

On one hand I can count 5 friends.  Only 5 that I consider true friends.  A true friend is one that keeps my confidences.  One who knows my deepest secrets, but never finds a need to discuss them.  Renate is one of them.

So lunch today and who knows what tomorrow may bring.  Life gives us little twists and turns, but always seems to lead us where we need to be.  I am looking to have a beautiful reunion with my friend and hopefully in this drab world we are currently in we can find a little laughter, God willing.

When God closes a door, he opens a window.

 I have always known this to be true although I also tend to forget it a lot.  I need to lay the back drop for this story first.  30 years ago I began working with AIDS patients as a care giver and personal companion.  The epidemic was in full swing back then and a lot of people were worried about "catching it", so people who did my line of work were in great demand.  But this is about a friendship forged in the midst of sickness and dying buffered by an underlying hope for a cure.  Sadly there was not a miracle cure discovered, but there was medicine discovered that could suppress the virus and allow people to live fairly normal lives, but that is history and this blog is about a friendship.

While I worked in the field with the clients, my friend was a case manager.  She dealt with them in their medical care and financial needs.  I helped them with house work, laundry, cooking, shopping, banking and that sort of stuff.  I also tried to give them avenues of entertainment including walks in the park, picnics and  and stuff like that.  Since there was a stigma connected to them at the time my job description changed almost daily.  I was whatever I needed to be at any given time for any reason.  And always in the background was Renate.  What did I need?  How could she help?  Always a phone call away.

In our line of work at that time there were frequent deaths.  It was a scary time for us as well as the clients.  Science was working overtime to conquer this plague and all we could do was try to help where and when we could. We started social events to try to have some sort of normalcy.  We started World AIDS  Day and made an AIDS Quilt.  We were marking time and eventually it paid off.  The community learned that AIDS was a manageable medical condition and it was spread by love.  Safe sex became our mantra, and now many years later, it has paid off and we can teach safe sex.

  I eventually left the client base because they did not need me any more.  I went to volunteer at hospice and Renate retired to live her idyllic life with the man she loved. Renate and I drifted apart after she retired.   But life is cruel. I knew she moved to Fowler and now had a life partner, but that was all I knew.  And now all these years later, the circle has reconnected and we have made contact again.  Her life has changed and mine has changed.  She is a widow and I just lost my Anthony.  She will be here tomorrow!  She thinks she can still find my house, but we will see.  The neighborhood has changed and time has passed.  We will see.

So, today I am going to make cookies or cinnamon rolls for my friend.  It seems strange to say the word "friend" in connection with some one I have not seen in many years, but some bonds are never broken and when people fight for a cause that is right and just, they remain friends forever.  

It will be nice to see her and  I am going to hug her so tight she can not get loose!  And we will cry over Jim and Anthony, and laugh over Mark and Allen and all the clients of long ago.  And when she leaves we will make a vow to never be seperated like this again and maybe this time it will work.  I just know this, the Lord works in wonderous ways, his miracles to perform.

Peace.

And now it is tomorrow.

 Life has a way of going on whether we like it or not.  It has been almost a week since my life was thrown into a bottomless pit, and yet the sun comes up every morning.  One day it snowed; the next the air conditioner kicked on to cool the  house.  I cooked a turkey and I burned the roaster beyond ever being useful again.  I swept the porch, but not the sidewalk.  I bought goose food.  I made coffee every morning.  Funny how the mundane works to keep us sane.

Covid 19 is still the number one story on the news, both here and abroad.  I mask up and go to the grocery only when I need something.  I wove a couple rows on my runner, washed the sheets on Jiraiya's bed and stared blankly at the television for several hours.  Life goes on.  Someday I am sure, life will again have meaning, but not right now.

If the church was open I could go set in the corner and talk this all over with God, but it is not, so I do the next best things.  I stand in my front yard early in the morning and watch the sun spread across the eastern sky.  I watch the birds shake themselves out of their stupor and rise against the sky in search of a fellow bird much as my soul rises in hope that this new day will be better.

And at night I search for the moon.  Sometimes it is full, which fills me with wonder.  Sometimes it is a crescent and sometimes it is dark, but always it is there.  As I watch it rise on the horizon, I know that some where, some how, I am not alone. I have a little trouble remembering when life was fun and I can not hear the laughter that used to live inside of me, but some how I know it is still there.

My hand reaches for the phone and then stops in mid air.  The number is dying in my head even as my hand retracts.  That part of my life is over.  It is over, but it is not forgotten.  It will live every day in my heart and someday, there will be a big harvest moon.  It will be a beautiful orange and it will make me smile.  And then, as now, the moon will enter a new phase and I will only see the outline of a cresent against a black sky.  

And maybe someday, I will smile again.

Today is Thanksgiving Day.

 Oxymoron is defined in the dictionary as a figure of speech that seemingly contradicts, such as  "cruel kindness."  Today is Thanksgiving Day.  The day we give thanks for all the wonderful bounty that our creator has bestowed on us.  I am sorry.  While the turkey is in the oven as it has been for the last 79 years of my life, the bounty is not reflected in my heart.

We are in the middle of the worst pandemic of our lives.  The government leaders are begging us to isolate and stay in our homes, but the airlines are busy.  There is a festivity in the air that is completely asinine to the darkest sorrow in my heart.  Life is going on as usual in so many areas, but not here on South Road.

I have not seen my kids in over a year.  It has been longer than that since I seen my sister.  I only have one sister left. I have a few nieces and nephews that I never see and rarely hear from. A couple friends that I talk with several times a year and that is about it. The Aunts and Uncles have all faded from the horizon and I am left in the abyss that is called my life.  My life is in Colorado now.  I have friends here and I had a special friend named Anthony.

Anthony has been gone 5 days.  We had plans.  He was such a caring man.  I wish the whole world could have known the simple little soul that was Anthony.  If I have to say something I am grateful for today, it can only be that he was in my life for the time he was in my life and he touched me to the very depth of my soul. My world is a better place for him having shared a part of it.

He loved the moon.  I loved the moon.  We looked at it together, he on his side of town and me on the mesa.  We talked every day.  Sometimes it was just a touch base thing and sometimes we talked for hours.  We had different opinions about many things, but we respected each other and that made it good. I had coffee with him every Sunday after church.  It was the high point of my week.  And then he got sick.

Thanksgiving?  I think not.  I will cook the turkey, because that is what I do.  I will feed the geese, because that is what I do.  I will sleep through Jeopardy!  because that is what I do.  I will remember that Anthony would call me when the opening theme song of Jeopardy! started and tell me good night.  He knew.  He understood me and he loved his family.  He missed his family.  He told me that many times.  And now his family will miss him.  

The gentle giant is with us no more, but as sure as there is a God above and the deep blue sea below this man will live in the hearts of everyone who knew him. 

For now, Rest In Peace, knowing you are missed by so many and loved by all who knew you.

Until we meet again........

Farewell to my friends as I close another chapter.

 Sometimes God reaches down and for no reason whatsoever, picks the most beautiful flower in the garden to hold as his very own.  He holds it close to his heart and whispers, "You are mine!"  And so it was last Saturday, when he took my friend.

In life we meet many people.  Some are random and pass through leaving very little trace behind.  Some linger for a while and leave without a trace left behind.  There are also those who have spent a lifetime with us without leaving a trace behind  and then there are those who become entwined in our souls and the very fabric of our being.  Anthony was such a friend.

I do not remember how many years ago it was that I met Anthony and Annie, but they forever altered the fabric of my being.  Annie was an invalid and Anthony was her caregiver.  He had been for many years and as such had enlisted Hospice to help with respite care.  I worked for Hospice as a relief.  The first time I met Annie she was drawn to my blue eyes and if Annie was happy, Anthony was happy.  So began a friendship forged of a common need. 

This friendship continued after the passing of Annie, and continued until last Saturday when God seen my Anthony standing all alone in the garden of life.  He reached down and cradled him in his arms and with only a brief glance at me standing in the breach he put his arms around my beautiful Anthony and took him home.  And they were gone. 

We are all given our reasons for being on this earth and we sometimes know what they are and sometimes we do not.  My first obligation was to Annie.  My second to her son.  They are both with God now and I can only thank my dear savior for having had the privilege of knowing these two beautiful souls.  I am  a better person for having them touch my life.

Nobody's Cat.

 The same sun came up this morning, just like it has every day for so many years, but this time it is different.  It is an empty sun shining on an empty world.  I do not know how many people there are on this little ball we call earth, but I am sure it numbers in the billions or trillions.  That does not matter to me.  What matters is the one person who is not here.  The one person who made my world turn.  The one person who could brighten my day and give meaning to my life.  The one person who understood when I was sad and laughed when I was happy.  The one person whose hand was warm and whose eyes were bright.  The man who wrote "wash me" on my back car window.  The man who fixed my coffee with just the right amount of froth to the creamer.

When I met this man many years ago he was taking care of his invalid mother.  He was so kind to her and so solicitous of her every need that I thought he must surely have wings under his shirt.  Our first serious conversation concerned an old cat that lived on his patio.  I asked whose it was and he said "no ones" it just lived there.  

I asked him about the small crate the cat slept in. "Well, I put it there so it could get out of the weather."

How did it come to be on his porch?  Well, it followed him home from the store.  It was a kitten then and he had to pick it up several times because it was tired and lagged behind.  He did not want it to get lost.  Did it ever come in the house?  Well, sometimes because it was cold he let it sleep with him.  I thought it pretty much qualified as being his cat and when he had to have it put to sleep he cried just like it was his pet.  But he still said no.

Over the years we became friends.  We learned to understand each others idiosyncrasy's.  It was tit for tat and yang for yang.  He was an  independent man and I was an independent woman.  We were friends in a way that many people strive for and few people achieve.  I shall never stop reaching for his hand and never stop waiting for the phone to ring.

Fly free, my little friend.  God has gained a priceless treasure in his store house of love.