Emotional Overload

I often write to share my thoughts with my family and my readers, but sometimes feelings get too much and words never seem to describe what emotions that sometimes rise to the surface. I’ll attempt to share a back-story before I try to explain the emotional quagmire in which I find myself. My wife Cynthia Morrison and Deborah Firestone were childhood friends growing up together and were best friends. Deborah was instrumental in lining up a blind date between Cindy and me. I married Cindy one month before she married William Detar. Cindy was part of their wedding entourage. Cindy and I and Debby and Bill began to have children; we had three and they had three. It was natural that our families would celebrate many holidays together. Debby, Bill, and their children became a second family. Our kids are Amanda, Andrew, and Anna, while Debby and Bill’s kids were Kristy, Korey, and Kiley. There wasn’t much difference in ages. At one time our families vacationed together; six children and four adults squeezed into one hotel room at Ocean City, Maryland eating zucchini nut bread, swimming, and beach combing. We’ve also eaten many meals together, celebrating Christmas and New Year’s. When Cindy died and children on both sides of the family married, the close bond separated a bit, but bonds of love managed to stretch, not broken. My children and theirs are still friends separated only by schedules and distance.

Their youngest Kiley was born with spina bifida. She struggled with many life tasks like walking, but was courageous and always grew stronger in body and spirit with each challenge. There were few things that she wasn’t able to do if she set her mind to it. Shortly after we attended her sister Kristy’s wedding, we attended Kiley’s marrying James Coughenour. Kiley moved to Florida to beginning her life together with their dogs. Kiley always has loved her animals.

Recently, the Corona virus infected James and Kiley. Both have became ill with its symptoms. Because of Kiley’s pre-existing medical problems, the disease hit her more intensely. She was admitted to ICU and has struggled to breathe, relying on bi-pap and often a ventilator to assist her oxygen level. The physicians exhausted every medication in an attempt to relieve her breathing difficulties. The battle that was too much for Kiley and she passed away. I am praying for her husband and her family. This sweet young lady is still loved and will be sorely missed. She’s now resting in the arms of Jesus, finally free of her diseased cumbersome body. Her crutches have been tossed aside and she’s free to run on the streets of heaven. Cindy’s waiting to greet you.

Another Turkey and Thanksgiving Tucked Under the Belt

I was volunteered to host Thanksgiving at my house this year. For me who has lived alone for more than five years, it was necessary for a marathon cleaning spree. My house wasn’t a pig sty, but there were a few cobwebs and dust in the corners. Some furniture hasn’t been moved in quite some time and I haven’t cleaned behind the refrigerator in ages. I do have an excuse for the past year because of my open heart and triple bypass surgery which limited the amount of lifting I could do.

My kids came to my rescue, but then again, they volunteered me. Everyone pitched in and with the usual potluck type Thanksgiving meal with a menu of who’s bringing what, it went well. There was more than enough food with turkey, ham, stuffing balls, green bean salad, cranberry-Jell-O salad, mashed and sweet potatoes, pies and nut bread. The kitchen was filled with counter-top selections in buffet style. A spare table and folding chairs expanded the dining space into the living room.

Unlike past gatherings at my house, I allowed the fire from the wood burner in the basement to die Wednesday evening, because many times my house was too warm. Comments like, “Satan called and he wants his heat back.” Even with the firebox cold, we had to open a few windows. The roaster and several crock-pots cooking filed the kitchen with savory aromas generating heat. The combined warmth of 14 humans and one dog added temperature and windows had to be raised several times.

One thing remained the same old recollections were hauled out, dusted off, and shared. I don’t know how well my grandchildren listen to the stories of family history, but probably like I once did, not too well. One day they will kick themselves for not paying more attention. This is one reason I try to share what I can recall in my blog so that when we older members of the clan pass on, the stories of past generations will not die with us.

Before my kids left my house yesterday, they decided because I didn’t put up my Christmas tree last year due to being sick and in the hospital during the Christmas holiday, they set up my old artificial tree, strung the lights, and garland. Now it will be necessary for me to festoon the branches with the generous generational accumulation of ornaments. That in itself is a massive undertaking. The tree is eight foot tall and over 20 years old with a few branches showing its age.

Clean up and hugs completed a busy day for all; until next year, happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

Supplies Supplies Supplies

I told a friend him if he ever needed help in distributing foodstuffs to needy veterans who live in Westmoreland County to let me know. Well, Monday I got the call. I arrived at the distribution point at 8:30 AM and the delivery trucks were already there unloading. Multiple skids stacked with food were quickly placed in open areas of the two empty bays of the fire station. The pallets were maneuvered into sections for easy access and speedy dispersing of boxes and bags of supplies.

Presorted boxes were already labeled with dry goods, freezer, and refrigerated. Bags of potatoes, apples, and a large pineapple were placed into blue carry-alls bag for less handling. Other of the pallets held carrots, half gallons of milk, and the most important part of a thanksgiving meal, frozen turkeys. It was necessary for veterans to have preregistered and upon arrival to the fire hall, the veteran needed to visit the tally master to check off his name. Some veterans took several bundles of food, because they were picking up food for veterans who were too old, too infirmed, or who were unable to drive a vehicle any longer. These volunteering veterans were still serving other older veterans. God bless them all.

Everything went rather smoothly. One of the coordinators for the food bank/veteran distribution program was there taking photographs. The pictures would be used in their newsletter and for the office bulletin board. The ages of the volunteers ranged from an eighteen year old to an eighty-something year old. The veterans arrived in all sorts of vehicles. They backed to the open garage doors. Their supplies were quickly loaded. Sometimes there was a delay. Occasionally a veteran would stop and talk. That always delayed their departure.

The air was cool and the sun was bright. The cool air eliminated the need to keep the refrigerated and frozen items in coolers or freezers which facilitated gathering and loading the boxes into the veteran’s vehicle. One of our crew was always out front directing the veterans into the loading areas. Some needed extra guidance backing up. A few almost seemed that they shouldn’t be driving at all, but everything was complete without incident.

Four hours later, I drove away with a happy heart and a smile on my face, although my feet and legs didn’t agree. I know if several of my friends read this, they will be fussing, “Don’t overdo.” How could I refuse to serve these men and women who have fought for our freedom and sacrificed so much?

 

Telemarketers Had No Chance

I was nominated to host at my house for Thanksgiving. Since I live alone, I don’t always keep the cobwebs out of the corners and dust off of the pictures on the wall. It meant the cleaning crew of my kids and grandchildren decided to attack the accumulated dust and grime. It was amazing. Furniture was actually moved and rearranged. The refrigerator was pulled out and cleaned behind. Seven miniature cleaning tornadoes whirled through my house. The smell of cleaning products still linger.

What was I doing while my family was finding things to spit-shine? I was ensconced on my recliner sorting through a box of newspaper clippings, photographs, booklets, and souvenir pamphlets that were tucked under a desk. Stored with those things were tattered handmade cards, report cards, and even a story that I forgot I’d written. I’m waiting to read it when I’m less likely to be bored.

In the box were other keepsakes. I plan to distribute as many as I can to others. These personal items can clutter their homes. Some are souvenirs, photos, obituaries, funeral cards, and newspaper clippings and were accumulated by my wife’s mother Retha, and grandmothers Pearl and Mabel. I hope to pass them along to the kin and share a few on line. Now I will wait to see if the bait works. Maybe someone will want them and claim them. The military clippings, I’ll donate to the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society.

We talked and laughed as we worked. My kids were my guardians. It was difficult for me to move the paper-sorting project from my lap and climb out of my recliner when my telephone rang. My recliner’s in the living room and the phone’s in the kitchen. My daughters intervened and answered the calls. One telemarketer with a very pronounced accent asked to speak to me, mentioning my name. My youngest child Anna asked what the call was regarding, then before he could respond she rebuffed him saying, “If you’re a telemarketer, we’re on the no-call list,” and he hung up without another word.

When the second telemarketer called to take a poll, my other daughter Amanda answered the telephone. He was a little more persistent asking to speak with me. She fibbed by saying she was my nurse and I was asleep. The caller asked, when could he call back? She told him that “I was taking new medications and slept often. I have no idea when he might be awake.” My son-in-law Eric and daughter Anna were in the background saying, “Tell them he’s on hospice.”

Sheesh, I’m not young, but isn’t that a bit severe.

 

Taboo or Not Taboo That Is the Question

Society’s become more tolerant to attitudes and life-styles that were once considered criminal or were shamed because they went against biblical truths. Those truths haven’t changed, they’ve remained the same. As ministers and the churches have moved closer to the world’s way of thinking, they have strayed far afield from the Word of God. Things that were considered sinful have slowly been indoctrinated and accepted as norms in today’s society.

Strong drink is accepted in most restaurants. The words interpreted as wine in the Bible was described as either fresh juice or strong drink. Strong drink of the biblical times had 3 to 4% alcohol, or similar content as light beer. God warns against strong drink and drunkenness, yet society condones it. Our government collects a “sin-tax and regulates its production and sales.

Sex outside of the bonds of marriage is another warning from God. The joy of abstinence is realized after the marriage. Many problems originate when ignored. A home where Uncle Sam becomes the father figure is weakened. Sexually-transmitted diseases and abortion are sins that have their roots in a lack of self-control and loosening of morals. Government interference has given tax dollars to pay for the slaughter of unborn children. Unashamedly politicians promote abortion clinics get “kick-back” political donations from the clinics to keep them in office.

Same sex attraction was the sin that caused the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. In the past it has been practiced in secret on the fringes of society. Now it’s flagrantly paraded on television and even being taught in elementary classrooms. Same sex marriage is now considered a right; when the original act of marriage was never considered a right, but rather a choice.

Politics was never to be a lifetime occupation. It was to be a short interruption of a citizen’s life where they represent people in his district before going back home to resume his life. They were to serve the people, not themselves. The same idea was the reason for public assistance. It was to help citizens get back onto their feet and not a career choice. When I was growing up, there was a stigma attached to being on “welfare” and families struggled to be removed from the dole role.

Drugs once considered illegal have been accepted as common practice and are now legal in many states for recreation. It’s been deemed no worse than alcohol, but look at the damage alcohol has inflicted on families and human bodies.

Television advertisements of today would have been given an X rating if they’d been shown in older movies. Society has changed, but not for the better.