Daisy, Daisy

 Daisy, Daisy

Daisy, daisy, the daisies are now in bloom. That innocent white petaled posey with a bright yellow center, was my wife Cindy Morrison Beck’s favorite flower. While walking up to my mailbox this afternoon I saw those precious blooms are just now appearing in numbers that are too many to miss. For those who have known me for a long period of time, know that I am frugal, except my children who say I am cheap. I say, why spend more money than you don’t have to?

The best thing about being frugal and having a wife who loved dasisies was that once the wild daisy becan to display their flowers, it cost me nothing more than to spend a few minutes of time to pick a bouquet of them, interspacing them with anyt other wild flowers that were in season to place a surprise bouquet waiting for her when she would come home from teaching at the Mount Zion Christian School. It was an unexpected pick-me-up for her and was easy on the wallet for me.

When she passed away, baskets of daisies surrounded her casket. A daisy bouquet at her feet had three pink rose buds, one for each of our kids, Amanda Beck Yoder, Andrew Beck, and Anna E. Prinkey. At her head was another basket of daisies with a single yellow rose from her mom Retha Johnson Morrison. There was a large spray that was placed on the top of the lid of the casket from me.

The coincidence of the blooming daisies and an event that happened yesterday brought these thoughts to mind. Because my supplemental health insurance rate increased nearly $100.00 per month was stunned. Me being exceptionally frugal was shocked at the tremendous rate of increase.

I decided it waas time to seek another choice in health insurance supliment to my Medicare. I made an appointment to meet with a health insurance agent. When I met my agent, I was surprised to find out that Cindy had her as a student. My agent only had nice things to say about Cindy. I shared about Cindy’s diagnosis and death from ovarian cancer. So, the convergence of the two thoughts congealed and pushed me to create todays blog.

Addictionss

Addictions

Addictions appear in many shapes and sizes and in a variety of guises. Some are disguised as hobbies or minor distractions. But anything that creeps into a life and eats up the precious time a person has left to live on earth could be labeled an addiction. Television, the internet, Facebook, on line games, pornography, drugs, alcohol, even food can supplant the necessary temperance in a person’s life.

Many people were wondering why I stayed away from Facebook without responding in my usual warped sense of humor to Facebook postings. It was because another friend issued a challenge to me. He suggested that I avoid the venue of Facebook for a day. It was for an entirely different reason than an addiction, but none-the-less, I accepted.

Because I uncoupled myself from the computer, I was able to go to the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society and put in 4 hours of sorting and storing maps, photos, and newspaper articles. I wasn’t able to thoroughly review the many interesting things that passed before my eyes, but I was surprised at the variety and depth of the small number of things that I processed.

War photos by Jack Pletcher, deeds, proclamations, interesting articles on local crimes, local heroes, school pictures, and a steady progression of maps showing the expanding towns and the dividing of the land into townships over the centuries, all passed through my hands.

As a child, I loved to snoop into the drawers of the old, dark oak bureau in my Grandmother Rebecca Miner’s dining room. The drawers were filled with hair swatches, pencils, fountain pens, hair pins, small and many other amusing things. Most of these items were nearly worthless, but seemed remarkable in my small fingers and fascinating. I was also intrigued with a pair of lamps with dangling crystal prisms that sat on the bureau creating rainbows to dance on the ceiling.

A similar feeling of nostalgia poured over me as I sorted through boxes at the Historical Society filled with unknown treasures. My childhood curiosity returned seeing these reminders of the history of yesteryear. It was a wonderful to feel the reemergence of those youthful feelings.

All of this was said to share that I felt much freer, away from the addicting quality of Facebook. It was a cleansing of sort; a purging of my soul. Perhaps I can now limit the time I spend on line and avail myself to the task of writing more, praying, and reading my Bible. I need to allow my creativeness to be freed. My next challenge is to limit my time time watching the boob-tub and its continual attempt to dumb me down and the American public.

 

Kisses

 Kisses

Kisses, we’ve all had them from infancy up. Hershey kisses are sweet, but not as sweet as the pressing of lips. All show a degree of intimacy and love, from the peck on the cheek to the near tongue swallowing passionate ones. Kisses vary from the wet, sloppy ones given by aunts and grandmothers to the dry cheek rubbing kisses from a brother or sister. Prints of lipstick may mark territories claimed.

Sometimes there are just hugs without the kisses, but hugs may be more intimate and deeper than the kiss. When a friend or relative is in pain, sorrow, or grief, a shoulder to cry on is so unbelievably comforting. Sharing the tears and a long embrace will reach beyond the brief meeting of lips. It reaches from heart to heart, soul to soul. The tenderness of a kiss cannot reach to the very core of each person involved like the sharing of a hug.

A kiss sometimes takes more than it gives, but the very nature of a hug, the closeness of the embrace gives more than it gets or at the very least a equal sharing of emotion. The give and take allows the lessening of pain or sadness by the giving of support and a willingness to help and comfort. The hug says, “I am here. Let me help” the person in distress is able to release some of the frightening emotion that is the cause of the problem.

An embrace can also allow a person to share joy and happiness. When the elation threatens to bubble over, it becomes absolutely necessary to grab another person and allow them to become a part of that blessing in your life. The joy that is felt by one is heightened by the sharing with another.

Share a kiss; share a hug, share a bit of yourself with someone else. Give someone a reason to smile.

Jumbles

 Jumbles

I’m not thinking of any idea that I can stretch into a blog post so I will write any thoughts that tumble out of my brain as they surface. The one at the foremost is the word pardon. It was the word that was at the center ofour Sunday evening’s message. The word pardon at its minimum has a meaning that is just an “excuse me” when I bump into someone or reach in front of another with the meaning “excuse me.” Then we shift to pardon me when we say something that we shouldn’t as in “pardon my French.” At the maximum, the meaning of pardon is if we commit a crime or if we should sin and ask to be pardoned from punishment for an act that we have commited. There is a human bracket when we should ask to be pardoned by a human judge and jury or the maximum of asking to be pardoned by our eternal Father God.

The human pardon may leave a paper trail that will haunt us for the rest of our lives; while the pardon by God is a forgiveness that ccompletely blots away the sinful act and appears to never have happened.  “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red as crimson, they shall be as wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

Our church has an intern for the summer. His name is Joshua and is visiting from college in Indiana. He’s asked our men to form a choir to sing for Father’s Day. Sunday evening was our first attempt to sing together and we didn’t sound too bad.

Last evening I checked my blood sugar and it was low. It will usually hover near 100 to 110 and I tolerate that quite well. Sunday night after church, just before I go to bed it is the time that I usually check my blood sugar. I was surprised to find that it was only 69. I didn’t feel any symptoms of shakiness, weaknesss, or dizziness, but was fearful that It might drop lower. I ate a Reese’s cup then went to the kitchen for something to snack on. (I always keep some kind of candy upstairs in case of an emergency. Reese’s cup was my in-case-of-emergency candy last night.)

The snack was several crackers, 2 cheese sticks, and a beef jerky stick. By the time I finished my slower-to-digest and longer lasting snack, my hands were shaking so delayed my evening insulin. It is a long acting medication and using it so close to my low blood sugar should be okay. My morning blood sugar was 99 and I’m still alive.

Supplemental Blues

 Supplemental Blues

Several days ao I received a notification letter from my supplemental health isurance company that they are raising my rates, As of July 1st, 2026 the cost will be nearly $100.00 more per month. The rates were just raised not too long ago. I called the company and was shuffled around after listening to a plethora of menu selections. The menu passed me off to one menu to another with vaguee choices until I finally was able to speak to a human representative. I found that encounter frustrating and unfruitful. I wasted nearly forty-five minutes. The representative shared that the increase was necessary to cover costs. She said that under my policy, they must pick up the costs that Social Security doesn’t cover.

I teasingly asked if the increase in pricing was due to President Trump’s tariffs or whether it was due to the price of oil. She was not amused and rsther stiffy went into a spiel tto explain that it was necessary because they paid for the scraps leftover from my Social Security health plan.

Other than removing the flannel sheets from my bed, washing them, and hanging them outside to dry, I spent most of the morning speaking with other health insurers on the phone trying to find less costly insurance to cover my health needs. The health coverage I have now, even with the major price increase doesn’t cover vision or dental benefits.

I thought with the brand loyalty the representative would want to keep a customer who faithfully paid their premiums for over twenty years. I was wrong. If I expressed my concern to my present insurance company, why don’t they suggest a lower priced health plan, even though the substitute plan might either had a co-pay or offer less areas of coverage. So I was off wandering through other companies, their endless menus, and listening to the pre-recorded consumer’s rights, before that representative could share information from their company. What a wonderful day I had and by bedtime I had muscle tightness in my shoulder and a headache. Today I woke with the same muscle tension headache. What a wonderful way to start the day.

Changes

 Coloring Her

Eyes the color of summer skies

At evening when the sun sets

Not quite purple and not quite blue

With colors somewhere in between

With hair the color of autumn

Tawny richness of red and gold

Touched by the sun, haloed like brass

It cascades from her head in waves

Her skin is like the snows of winter

Pale alabaster smooth and white

Not ice cold, but warm and supple

Skin unmarred by scar or freckle

Cheeks pink as spring cherry blossoms

Softens the winter complexion

Gives life to the ice princess skin

Vigor and health from that hue

Loneliness Waits

Loneliness waits just outside the door

Sometimes coming to live within

They say, “No man’s an island”

Unless it’s deserted… unless it’s deserted

Alone it waits at the mercy of the see

In waves of sadness huge breakers roll

Will breakers, real breakers, heart breakers

Debilitating, binding, devastating

Controlling, incapacitating, homebound prison

Alone and afraid, isolated

Homebound, no one around trapped inside

Limited mobility, vision, and money

Too hot, too cold, too much sun, too much snow

Old bodies unable to adjust, adapt

Aging joints, weak muscles, fragile bones

Tottering steps wander the home

Forlorn and forgotten

For time unknown

Waiting for someone to call

To stop by to visit for awhile

 

If the Grim Reaper should knock

He’ll be invited inside

Passing Thoughts

 Passing Thoughts

As I awakened this morning, I was hit with the feeling of concern, “What do I write about today and what do I share with my friends?” Sometimes thoughts or recollections swiftly rise and flow into meaningful and entertaining articles. I’ve been writing and sharing since 2013. I began posting every day, but that became too heavy a burden. I began to share on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It gave my brain a chance to remember something or an event to happen in my rather routine life. Always at the back of my mind was the thought of Alzheimer’s disease. My mother Sybil Miner Beck, her five sisters, and several cousins have fallen prey to this insidious malady. That is why I write. I want my family to be able to pass on those memories, even if I am unable.

I watched my grandfather Raymond Miner prrogress as the gray a fog of dementia slowly assaulted him. He struggled all his life to provide for his wife Rebecca Rugg Miner and his eight children; laboring on his farm during the day and working in a coal mine at night. Even as dementia claimed his mind, his desire to care for his animals would often appear. Grandma would have to keep a close watch on his wanderings.

I think the history of their loss of remembrances cause me to struggle with my efforts to dredge as much as I can from my memories before the windows of my own brain’s vault closes to say, “Insufficient funds.” There are times when so many things roll unimpeded through my brain as I climb out of bed and words flow like an Artesian well bubbling out in a seeming unending flow. But sometimes it’s too early and I roll over for a bit more sleep. Oft times it caps the well and the flow of thoughts disappears. Then I worry, what have I missed sharing?

Because of a brain injury in 2015, I now have phantom smells. Thoughts of smells push forward this morning. Its not that the smells from my past are so important but they still exist as part of my memories full package. They wait to be dragged to the surface. Sometimes I wander through my house sniffing here searching for the source. Then I must decide. Is it a real odor or only a phantom smell? Since the fall, smells come and go. It’s strange. I want to keep the memories of past intact with their aromas attached, but I don’t want them corrupted with these false smells. SIGH