Courage

I'm reading Joshua right now because Jimmy has been preaching on it for a few weeks. I love the idea of doing something that God tells you to do that causes everyone else to question your sanity. Don't you think that when Joshua was telling the people to march around the walls, blow the trumpets, carry the ark of God, cross the Jordan, that people were shaking their heads and wondering what Joshua was smoking.
Seriously, when people watch Christ followers doing what God has told us to do, they probably think the same thing. You give how much to the church? You go to church every week? You read your Bible every day? You're making food for someone from in your class who is sick? You listen to positive, encouraging KLOVE all the time? You spend quiet time with God every morning before you go to work? That's not all necessary; you can get to heaven without doing all of those things, right? Right, but I need those things. I have found that I need positive, encouraging reading material and music. I need church every week. I need quiet time. I need the people in my Sunday school class. It won't get me to a higher place in heaven, but it will make my days here on this earth better than they would have been without all these things and people.
The thing is these things are just as foreign to some people as marching around the walls of the city every day for seven days. Why would you do something so absurd? It has taken me many years to understand exactly why I do the things I do. I do them because they make me feel good. Reading the Old Testament isn't always my favorite thing--too many wars, too much destruction, too many sad stories, but I can see God working in the lives of his people, so I feel a connection to people who lived thousands of years before me. They had struggles; they sinned; they failed; they grumbled, but ultimately they followed God. I have struggles, I sin, I fail, I grumble, but ultimately I follow God. All of the hoops I jump through (according to some people) are for me; they are not for God. He is God; he doesn't need me to do these things, but he wants me to.

Another blessed Sunday

One year ago today my family joined me for church because we had just buried Jason the Friday before, and I needed their support. Today Allison, Mike, Crystal, Erica, and their kids joined me again. Crystal's and Erica's kids are so cute and sweet. They all crack me up. For some reason Kiersten had a blown up balloon. I kept thinking that it would pop during service and scare everyone to death. In today's climate everyone would hit the floor and think that a gunman was in the building. The balloon stayed intact all through service, so everything was all right.
After church we went to Bethel to Anthony's third grade football game. What fun. Those little guys are serious. Anthony's team won in the fourth quarter. A defensive battle. The game stayed tied 0-0 until close to the end. Then Bethel scored a touchdown and a 2 point conversion.
We all came back to the house and ate chilli dogs while the kids played in Allison's room. The girls went home with pom pons, and the boys had a video game that was sent to me by mistake to take with them. They were playing with the barns, trucks and horse trailers, animals etc. that all belonged to Jason. The animals were all branded with either his brand JH or Kirby's H. Cracked me up. Jason was never a kid; he played very serious games.
I have a very busy week. I'm serving on a committee in OKC this week and have to be in the city Tue., Wed, and Thurs. The committee's purpose is to review test items for the end-of-instruction English test. When I was asked to serve on the committee, it was summer, and I didn't really think it through. Now I'm wishing I had said no. Nothing is worse than getting abunch of English teachers together to review something that someone else has written. My plan is to go spend one night at my friend Cindy's so that we can catch up. That will be the bright spot of the week.
I'm blogging right know to avoid doing lesson plans. I hate to be gone for that reason. It is 10x easier to teach school than it is to plan to be gone.

Our current sermon series is on Joshua. It has been very challenging to me. Today Jimmy asked us how much time to we spend reading the Bible for our own benefit, not to prepare a lesson, but to challenge and enlighten ourselves. Man, that hit me right between the eyes. I used to do that. Before Jason's death (and this is no excuse) I read a passage and journaled on it each morning. One complete year has passed since my last journal post because I know how much I prayed for my kids in that journal. When Jimmy shared this morning that his kids would have a stack of journals to read that would reveal his strengths and weaknesses, triumphs and struggles, I realized that I used to say that too. I haven't been able to read those journals because I keep seeing the daily prayer of "keep my children safe, physically, spiritually, and emotionally." All I focus on is the unanswered part of that prayer. Jason died physically, but spiritually he is complete. Allison and Carson suffered the worst loss of their lives in losing Jason, so I keep thinking of their emotional pain, but their spiritual lives are secure.
I'm going to "screw my courage to the sticking place" and begin journaling again. in my own hand as I always did. I've been living between the Red Sea and the Jordan. I'm ready to live in the promised land.

Another tribute

I went to school today and looked at the benches in front of the Alumni Building. There are about ten really nice park benches out there. My mother-in-law told me that according to her connections, Jason's class was buying one to put out there with Jason's name on it. I was a little afraid to look at it before school because I never know how I will react to things like this. I know when I first saw his name on a headstone, it took me a while to recover, but this morning I was touched but not wiped out. Thanks Class of 1993; you are very sweet kids. I realize you are no longer kids, but you are to me.
I've had several weeks in a row of busy, busy weekends, so this weekend I am saying no to all excessive activities. Tomorrow I will go to the football game, but Saturday I'm going to do as little running around as possible. I may go to Sam's because I need some things from there. This week I have had a difficult time getting up. For years I have gotten up at six and have been ready to leave a little before seven, but this week I haven't gotten up until 6:30 which gets me to school around 7:30. We don't start class until 8:30, but for some reason I need more than an hour to be ready. I'm thinking that if I don't run around all weekend, I'll be more rested. We'll see.

Update on Mr. Blue

A few weeks ago I posted that my former principal, James Blue, went to Korea for cancer treatment. He arrived home this past weekend after seven weeks in Korea. He has more treatment to take here in the US, but Dr. Moon (in Korea) gave him hope that no doctor in the US gave him. His brain cancer is gone, and the lung cancer is in remission. Praise God and Korean doctors.

Whispers in scripture.

I am reading Max Lucado's book For the Tough Times. In Chapter 8 he discusses death from God's perspective. There are some Bible verses that have troubled me ever since my mother died. "For the dead in Christ shall rise..." Taken out of context of the entire scripture, this sounds like they are in limbo until then. I want to think of my family members who have passed on living together in heaven. This book gives me solid answers for my questions. Many times when I have voiced this question and the doubts in my mind, people have reminded me of the thief on the cross. "Today you will be with me in paradise." I love the way Max explains this theology. He says, When speaking about the period between the death of the body and the resurrection of the body, the Bible doesn't shout; it just whispers."

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far. (Phil. 1:21-23 NIV)

Now I am mixing Lucado's words with mine.
It is right for us to weep, but there is no need for us to despair. They had pain here (Jason's body hurt from years of riding horses; this time of year he would have been suffering greatly with allergies.) They struggled here (Jason lived with a great deal of frustration after his divorce.) He has no pain or struggles there. I may wonder why God took him home. But he doesn't. He understands. He is, at this very moment, at peace in the pressence of God.

I don't know how much time will pass before I join him in heaven, but I do know this. He is not missing me. He is living in paradise, with people that he loved here on this earth and with Jesus. I will always miss Jason; for the remainder of my days I will regret his death, but that is the very human, selfish side of me. Why exactly would I want him to come back to this horrible and wonderful place? I'll tell you why--because I am human and selfish. \
I can't possible erase the grief, but I can continue to read God's word and the words of Godly men and women who will help me get through it. I've said it before--I'm so glad I am a reader. I have benefitted greatly from the books that I've read in every troubling situation.

Year one

In just one hour Jason will have been in heaven for one full year. I'm hoping that my Tylenol PM will take effect soon, and I will go to sleep. My head and heart has been full of Jason this weekend. I've laughed, cried, and felt every emotion that a mother feels when she is proud of the kid she raised. I've tried to think about his life here on this earth. I've tried to see the contribution he made to the planet. It wasn't financial; he didn't care a thing about money. It wasn't by leaving behind a family for which I am both resentful and grateful. It wasn't fame although I am still amazed at the number of friends he had. What did he leave us? Jason left zest for life, loyalty to friends and family, laughter, concern, comfort, consideration and a multitude of other virtues that will come to me later.
How have I survived this year? First, I know Jason is in heaven with Jesus and the loved ones who have gone before. That gives me a great deal of comfort. I've wondered if they will have a birthday party in heaven for him. He loved Phyllis' carrot cake. Maybe she made him one.
I know that part of the reason I have put one foot in front of the other this year is because my mother equipped me for this life. If you are reading this while you are raising children, take your children to church. Give them the opportunity when their hearts are tender to accept Jesus and know his salvation. Give them the tools that will help them navigate the heartache and sorrow this life may offer them. I know my mother had no idea what I would face, so she provided a way for me to face whatever came my way.
I have a wonderful family. Yesterday Tony and I went to Stillwater and tailgated with Allison, Carson, and their friends. Then we went to the ballgame, took our first family picture since July of 08 and enjoyed one another's company. No one can know how difficult it is to continue living without Jason, but there's no excuse for us to stop living. He is in a place that will never experience the pain of death, suffering, worry, stress, financial concerns, illness...the list goes on.
I have an awesome Sunday School class that enjoys one another's company and has a deep concern for each other. We laugh and share our lives and then share the truths of our faith.
Allison, Mike, Crystal, Erica, and all the kids came to church today and then we went out to lunch at Garfield's. Kids eat free on Sunday. I sat at the table with Toni Henry, Allison, Mike and Ashton and Gavin. Ashton and Gavin are both four-years-old and kept us entertained the entire meal. The sang songs they have learned in school this year, drew pictures on the table, and made me laugh. Ashton kept calling me Gwamma and asked my why I didn't ever come to his house. I got to thinking that if he really thinks I'm his Gwamma, he must think I'm a terrible one. I'm going to start visiting him more often. Actually, I'm his great, great aunt. I know that seems incredible, but his Papa Gary Powell (that's what the kids call him) is my nephew. I was five when he was born, so his kids and mine were raised together. They couldn't be closer than if they were all first cousins.
I came home Thursday from work with a beautiful painting of running horses with a scripture on it(I'd put the scripture in here, but I would have to get out of bed to go read it). Attached to the gift were many, many "thinking of you" cards from the faculty and staff of my school.
I kept thinking of a way that I could thank them tomorrow without the emotional scene of thanking them verbally or the impersonal thank you note. My idea--cookies.
I will thank them with cookies, so tonight I made chocolate chip, white chocolate/cranberry/coconut, and peanut butter cookies to take to school tomorrow.
I love the people I work with. They are some of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. There are very few of them who knew Jason, but they have let me share my funny stories with them, so they all feel like they knew him. I hope I don't drive them crazy with my stories. Just when you think you have told all the stories and don't need to share them any more, we get a new faculty member, so we all start sharing our funniest ones. Some of us have been around for so long that we have heard most of the stories, but that doesn't stop us. We all still laugh which is what gets us through the day. Sometimes I'm so tired after laughing at lunch that I feel like I've been doing aerobics. I'm sure we burn some calories.

Honoring Jason

We are facing the one year anniversary of Jason's death. I remember so well how much I accomplished one year ago tomorrow. I scrubbed my porch and washed down the front of the house, cleaned house, bought groceries. I have always loved days off when I can be home alone. I don't mean that to be mean to Tony, but when he's here, I don't get as much done.
Tomorrow morning I have a haircut scheduled for 8:30 and then I will probably go to get a pedicure, buy a few groceries, and go home to clean house. I was so busy last weekend that I didn't get much work done around here. Tomorrow night I will go to the football game to sell raffle tickets for the t-shirt quilt. We would like to sell enough that the amount we can give Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps will be of assistance for their incidental expenses.
Saturday we will head to Stillwater to tailgate, at Carson's house, and then go to the ballgame. We wanted to do something together that Jason would have liked. I have another goal. We haven't taken a family picture since last year. I just haven't been able to do it, so this weekend I'm going to.
The pain of thinking about each hour Sunday morning from 3:00 A.M. is horrible. It's odd; I have some memory blanks from some of the time right after his death, but not during those first days. My blanks are from after the funeral to Christmas. Sometimes I will see something or read something, and it will trigger a suppressed memory. Isn't that strange? You would think the blanks would come earlier.
My memories of him have been so vivid in recent weeks. Stories have come to my mind that I haven't thought of in a long time. Is this a gift from God so that I can remember him fondly?
Thank you God for my family and friends. Thank you for Jason and his roll as big brother, son, cousin, grandson, nephew and friend. Thank you for the phone calls, cards, and gifts from my family and co-workers. Thank you for giving your son and for receiving my son.

Small town life

Today I went to a benefit dinner for two men in our community who are battling cancer. I have no idea how many people were there, but let me just say there was a steady stream of people for about three hours.
I sold $240 worth of tickets for the quilt we are drawing for. We were able to give the quilts to Mr. Blue's family and Mr. Capps's wife, so we don't have to worry about any of us taking cold and flu bugs into their homes.
I'm so proud to be from a community that cares about its citizens. I know both Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps are proud men who would not want to be on the receiving end of charity, but I know both of them to be such giving men. I would tell them, "Don't rob us of our blessing. We want to do this."
Danny Sterling, who is our assistant principal and former ag teacher, was taking the money for the dinner today. He was overwhelmed by the generosity of people who gave donations over the cost of their dinner. I'm not surprised. Everyone wants to help, but their little donation is awkward to give, but to join with others makes it seem like your gift can really make a difference. I don't know how much they took in today, but I know that incidental expenses of an illness can be tough.
I had to swallow my pride last year when I was planning Jason's funeral. The expense of a funeral is so great today that I was certain that after all was said and done, we would still have a bill. We didn't. In the first few days after his death, I kept getting asked if we had established a Memorial Fund, but we hadn't. There were so many people wanting to do something and so many flowers at the funeral home and at our house that I didn't really think we would get that much, but both the bank and Jason's friends convinced us to open a memorial account. We received gifts from people we had never heard of from all over the country. We were able to pay for the service and buy a headstone with the donations and the insurance from his truck. That was such a relief for us. It's bad enough to lose a child, but it would have been horrible to have to "make a payment" to the funeral home each month.
Jason had very amazing friends from high school, Connor's, OSU, National Cutting Horse Association, Nebraska. The outpouring of love was a very touching phenomenon.
I always want to do something for a family who has had a loss, but sometimes I'm not sure what is best. Here in Tecumseh the first response is always food, but I've been on the receiving end of that so many times it's not funny. There's always too much food. We always call friends and family and tell them to "come and help us eat this elephant." I started taking in the place of food things like ziploc bags and containers, foil, etc. It has been a complete year since Jason died, and I bought my first Kleenex this past week. I bought paper towels and toilet paper for the first time this summer. The paper plates lasted until about February. The people in this town are the most generous people on earth.
After my uncle passed away in San Antonio, Phyllis, my dad and I flew down for the service. They had to order take-out barbeque for us. It's not as if he didn't have friends; he was active in church; he was president of his local AARP group; his funeral was a large one. People down there just don't take food like we do here.
I like small town life.

More sweet memories

Last night's post triggered some strong, vivid memories for me. When Jason was about three months old, Tony would put him on his back on our bed and bounce the bed. Jason would laugh outloud every time. He loved it. Tony tried it with Allison when she was that same age, and she puckered up and screamed, grabbing at the air trying to find something to hold on to. Don't tell me you can raise boys and girls the same.
Jason was rough and ready from the moment he bacame mobile. He crawled so fast that he could be into something before you even realized he was gone. He played hard and then fell asleep where he was. I have pictures of him asleep in his highchair and standing next to the couch with his feet on the floor and his head lying on the couch sound asleep, and just in random places on the floor.
He had the sweetest blond curly hair that we didn't cut until he was about 18 months. He went from a baby to a little boy in one haircut.
He had an impish side that was obvious from the gleem in his eyes. For some reason he loved to empty things, his toybox, his diaper bag, anything that you put something in, he would empty.
One memory that still makes me laugh happened the first week we moved to Wellston. Jason was 17 months old when we moved there. He and I had made a trip to Edmond and had just returned home when two ladies from the First Christian Church came to visit and bring us a "welcome to Wellston" cake. I had just brought all the groceries into the house, and they were still in bags on the dining area floor. I was trying to pay attention to our guests who later became very dear friends. Deanna Braziel and Betty Ivey and I were trying to get acquainted, and Jason was taking all the groceries out of the bags. He was carrying cans, boxes, etc. everywhere. I was so embarrassed, but now I can just laugh. I would go pick him up, move him to the living room, try to get him playing with his toys, and he would head back to the kitchen. He was one stubborn kid.

Busy, busy, busy

I have dreaded the month of September since last September, but it is going so fast that I haven't had too much time to think. I have to be gone from school tomorrow, so I spent today trying to get lesson plans ready. Friday night we have concert tickets to Sugarland, Saturday morning I have to give the ACT and then go home to watch ballgames. Sunday is always busy; next Tuesday and Thursday are those long days when we do parent-teacher conferences. Next Friday is a day off. That's the day I'm worried about. Last year I did a lot of cleanup outside on that day, the day before our family was forever changed. I'm going to pray for good weather that day, so I can do physical, exhausting work--the kind that makes you sleep good.
I'm trying to exercise daily because it makes me feel better, so I'm not at home all evening to think about this time last year. For some reason the one thing I used to be able to do to take my mind off worries or grief is not working with this. I used to be able to read when I needed an escape, but that doesn't work now. I can't escape this. I have ordered a Max Lucado book called For the Tough Times that I'm hoping will give me some good advice about how to step into year two.
I have some books on grief that people gave me last year; I may get them out and re-read them.
My friends are trying to help. They are inviting me to go to happy movies and banning me from some of the sad ones out right now. They don't have to worry; I
don't want to see any movie that had a sad story to tell. Life is sad enough; I don't need to make sadness a part of my entertainment, but I never really have done that.
I keep thinking of Jason--the person he grew to be from the baby and boy we raised. What do I remember most about him as a baby. He was always happy; he loved to eat; he was loving and cuddly and wanted to be rocked. The child was never sick. I think he was over a year old before he ever had a doctor's appointment for anything but a well-baby checkup. Somehow he knew we didn't have the money to go the the doctor and to buy medicine. He took his first steps at my mom and dad's house at eight months. When he was about four months old, we visited my brother's house. They had a huge aquarium. Jason would sit in a bean bag in front of those fish and just be mezmerized by those colorful fish. He would look out the door at our house and say, "doors" when he wanted to go outside. Most kids say "side" but not Jason; he spent a lot of time with my parents and Tony's parents and his baby sitter. I don't know which one of them taught him to say doors, but I'm sure one of them did. We took him to the zoo when he was a year old. If the animal was big and had four legs, it was a Hor (horse); if it was small, it was a Dau (dog). As he grew older he played with my long hair to go to sleep. When he was four, he had to take his naps with a little girl named Toby at daycare because her hair felt like mine. He loved horses and anything to do with horses. He spent hours as a little boy pretending to move imaginary cows around the corrals and pens. He loved to be read to. When he was little and it was time for bed, he would go get a stack of books, as many as he could carry, and climb up in my lap. If I stopped reading for a second, he would reach up and hit my mouth and say, "Read, Momma." It used to make me so mad. One of his favorite books was the most annoying book, but he loved to hear it. It was Hi all you Rabbits. My mom, Janna, Phyllis, and I all read it so often that we had it memorized. It was at my mom's house, and I never volunteered to take it home with us. We would hide it, but he always found it.
It said, Hi all you rabbits, what do you do? Hop and Stop Hop and stop, that's what all rabbits do. Hi all you horses what do you do? Whiny and gallop, Whiny and gallop; that's what all horses do. Then it continued with several other animals. Why do kids like that kind of book?
What's interesting to me--these memories don't make me sad. That precious baby has been gone for so long. What I do grieve is that he never got to have the experience of bringing a child into the world and watching that child grow.
I know he had bonded with the children of many of his friends, but that's not the same.

Crazy, Crazy

The past week or two our nation has gone goofy. Word was out that on the traditional day after Labor Day that starts the school year for many of America's school students President Obama was going to give a speech to the students. Ok, so today he gave that speech, and many of the schools did not show it because parents complained that he would indoctrinate the students with his political idealogy.
I read the transcript yesterday, and saw absolutely nothing offensive in it. It sounded like words my students need to hear. Study, don't drop out, wash you hands, read a book, respect your teachers, stop kids from bullying. What is so dangerous about that?
The thing that embarrasses me is that much of the misinformation out there was contributed by Christian people who listen to anything negative about President Obama and believe it.
Today on Channel 4's website there was a post that said, Thou Shalt not Bear False Witness, unless you are the Baptist Messenger. I don't get the Baptist Messenger, but I would certainly hope that their writers check carefully all of their sources.
I work with both Christians and non-Christian people. If the Christians who are part of this "fear" propaganda knew how the non-Christian people were talking about all Christians right now, they would realize that they are doing damage to the cause of Christ. People who hear the "fear Democrats" "fear Obama" "fear health care" "fear anyone who is different from you" fear, fear, fear are thinking that all Christians think like you do, and they want absolutely nothing to do with Christianity. My pastor began using the term Christ Follower a couple of years ago. What makes me sad is that I think he changed his terminology because so many people think of Christian with a negative connotation.
I have beloved family members and friends that I attempt to be a witness to, but they very forcefully tell me that they want nothing to do with today's churches.
I read a book several years ago called Following Jesus without Embarrassing God. Now I think someone should write a book called Following Jesus without being a Christian.
President Obama made his speech today, and the students in my school did not hear it. My concern is that they will never hear it. Many of the students I teach do not have parents who will sit down with them and have them watch the speech, so tonight they will watch Family Guy, Married with Children, The Simpsons, and other garbage that will tell them to be a slacker, be rude, be smart mouthed, treat your parents and teachers with disrespect.
What amazes me is that we can have assemblies and career fairs and invite guests to come and speak during the school day, and parents don't complain. Who knows what message the kids are getting? The most popular sessions are the military recruiters because they usually bring gifts. a helicopter, or a hummer, so the kids flock to their sessions. Talk about indoctrination. A recruiter can convince any 17 year old to sign up with talk about signing bonuses, free college, tours in Hawaii, etc.
When my kids were in school, I would not allow them to talk to a recruiter. I had to get rude with the recruiters by saying, "If my student wants to join, he/she will contact you after his/her eighteenth birthday. Until then leave them alone."

Politics and Religion--not a mix.

I don't remember my Grandpa Rogers, Mom's dad. He died when I was 18 months old, but I heard stories about him. My dad used to say that G. P. (George Patton) loved to argue, especially politics and religion. Daddy, on the other hand, used to say that those were both subjects that you should stay away from in polite company. The last two weeks our Sunday School lessons have been on The Heaviness of Hatred and A Love Worth Giving. There have been so many thought provoking questions in the lessons that have made me repent for harboring resentment against people that I need to let go of. Some of the resentment has been because of my political beliefs that differ from some of the people that I work with and am acquainted with. I resent being told that you can't be a Christian and a Democrat; I beg to differ. I'm pro-life-- entire life. We shouldn't expect women to give birth to children because we think it is a sin to have an abortion and then expect that woman to "pull herself up by her bootstraps and take care of herself and the child." We need to use some of our taxes to educate or train her and to make sure the child she gave birth to has health care and an education. I believe in taxes for the greater good.
I'm very firm in my religious convictions; there is nothing I need to argue with anyone about because "I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him against that day." However, when you add today's climate of politics and religion together, there is much to argue about.
I'm really glad that Daddy and Jason are not here to witness the politics of the day.
My daddy was a yellow dog Democrat, and Jason was a Republican. I don't think they ever discussed politics, but if they had, Pa would have looked at Jason differently for the first time. My dad thought Jason was perfect and to find that they had different political beliefs would have rocked Daddy's world. Jason knew Daddy's convictions and believed that he was just a stuborn old man.
In the 80's politics and religion got combined when the Republican party (this is my opinion right now) decided they needed some more people. They had traditionally been known as the party of the wealthy, so they became aligned with the religious right and the gun control groups. We have seen several of the politicians who used the religious right to get elected fall in disgrace in recent years. God will not be mocked. I don't believe that all Republicans fall into this category, but if they are, they will be exposed. I have always been moderate in my political convictions, but as a public school teacher, I lean much closer to the Democratic party. I see too many of my students living in poverty under no fault of their own. I can't stand to think about a hungry child. I want to help them if I can, but the need is too great for me alone. I need the help of the nation. I'm overjoyed when one of the most impoverished students continues his or her education and become a contributor to society.
Again I believe firmly in taxes for the greater good, which is a principle of the Democrats. I converted completely to this ideology after my parents became retired and were old enough for Medicare. My mom spent two and a half weeks in the hospital before she died. She was in intensive care in St. Anthony's hospital for a week and a half. Because she had Medicare and a supplement, we paid absolutely nothing out-of-pocket. After she died, I took care of my dad's finances, medical care...everything. Dad spent his first night in the hospital when he was seventy--seven years before Mom's death. He had a heart attack, needed by-pass surgery, and because he had Medicare and a supplemental policy, he paid nothing out-of-pocket for this very expensive procedure. For some reason the amount 35,000 comes to my mind, but I'm not sure about that.
Two weeks after Mom died, Daddy had a stroke and then developed pneumonia. He spent several weeks in the hospital and needed a couple of surgical procedures to get him through that. Because of his stroke he could no longer work, so the VA started purchasing his medicine, hearing aids, glasses. Later in his life he had two knee replacements--requiring weeks of in-patient physical therapy, both eyes fixed because of cataracts, his esophogas stretched, two rotor rooter procedures, and a colonoscopy. Then he broke his hip and spent weeks in the hospital and rehab.
If I added all of the medical expenses of my parents together in a thirteen year period, the taxes my brother, my sisters, and I paid in would not have paid their medical bills. I became a patriot all over again then; I became so thankful to be American. All I had to do was watch news reports of people in other countries who needed medical care and had no access to it. I lived under constant stress for the seven years I took care of my dad. Allison still had two years of high school, and Carson was in middle school and early high school. Daddy died when Carson was a sophomore. I cannot imagine the added stress if we had had to worry about how to pay for the medical care my parents needed. Momma and Daddy had been good citizens, patriots. Daddy joined the Army during WWII, and Mom worked at Douglass AFB as a "Rosie" while also raising my oldest sister and my brother alone. My mom worked most of her life, except for a few short years when she stayed home when I was little. She mostly worked so that we could have insurance and for retirement because Daddy was self-employed. I would so have resented a government that turned its back on them, but I didn't have to.
Now back to the SS lessons. When I hear some state that you can't be a Democrat and a Christian, I get angry at the person. They are voicing an opinion, and just because that opinion differs from mine, I shouldn't resent that person-a person who is my Christian brother or sister.
Jesus gave a love worth giving. One of the things suggested in the lesson today was to take the scripture I Corinthians 13: 4-8. It's familiar to anyone who had attended a wedding in recent years; it's call the love chapter. Now see if you can put your name in the places where Love is. You certainly can put Jesus' name there, but I can't put mine.
Debbie is patient and kind. Debbie is not jealous, Debbie does not brag, and Debbie is not proud. Debbie is not rude, is not selfish, and does not get upset with others. Debbie does not count up wrongs that have been done. Debbie is not happy with evil but is happy with the truth. Debbie patiently accepts all things. Debbie always trusts, always, hopes, and always remains strong.
As a born-again believer, I can't be satisfied until that paragraph can be said about me. God has so much work to do to make me like Jesus. I have so far to go.

Are you ready for some football?

Tecumseh beat Noble last night 21-20, Go Savages!!!
The college season starts today, so here's today's schedule. Tony is on the golf course right now; I'm home stalling on my housework by playing on facebook, and reading and writing. I will finish the housework, go to the grocery and farmer's market, and then come home for a great day of tv football and food. I only watch two games. Tony, on the other hand, will watch as many as he can flip through the channels to keep up with. OSU has a 2:00 kickoff against Georgia Bulldogs; OU plays BYU at 6:00. Would I rather be at the games? Yes, but my husband is not a crowd person, so this is our compromise. We had season tickets for OSU for a few seasons when Carson was at South Rock Creek, but after he started playing high school football, it was hard to make sure we could go to the games. We were either too tired, or Carson was too sore, so we just started making Saturdays in the fall "stay at home and watch and eat something good" days.
I do plan for us to go to the OSU/Rice game on the 19th. That will be the weekend anniversary of Jason's death, so I want us to all be together to get through the weekend. I can't think of a better way to honor and remember Jason than to attend a Cowboys game.
We will probably cook at Carson's since he lives close to campus and just enjoy the gameday atmosphere in Stillwater. There's nothing like it.
I'm really missing Jason right now. He probably wouldn't have been here, but he would have called all day and texted all during the game. I wish they had cell phones in heaven. I would really like to talk to him right now. I've wondered if I would ever forget what he sounded like, but I don't have to worry about that. Carson sounds just like him on the phone. I never told them this, but for the last few years I've had to get into the conversation with them a little ways before I was sure who I was talking to. They both started every conversation with "Mom,..... What're you doing?"
I'll just sign off with "Go Pokes" from the entire Tony Humphrey family-all five of us.

Quilts

For the past two weeks a group of ladies have been meeting in the high school home ec room to make tshirt quilts for Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps and their wives. We have made five quilts in four nights. I think now that we have a system down, we could go faster if we all would do a few tasks at home. We have had a ball. We've laughed, and worked, and laughed, and visited, and laughed... Most, not all, of these women are my age or older with no kids at home. I think there is a void in our lives. Women need girls' nights sometimes, and the turnout we have had is evidence that there is a need in our community for something for us to do with our talents. Many of the women would come in saying, "Now I don't sew, but I want to help." So they would iron, cut out t-shirt fronts and backs, lay out the quilt design, pin the top to the lining. We all have had a fire kindled to make our own kids' shirts into quilts, and since it is so much fun to work together, we may meet to put together the quilts and help one another.
I have attended some women's Bible studies in the past, and I enjoy them very much, but there was something about working together for a cause that was very rewarding. I can study the Bible on my own, but I can't make five quilts in four nights alone.
I think I can understand the draw that women used to have to have quilting bees. Those women didn't have the means of communication that we have today, but they needed face-to-face interaction just as we need today.
All I know is that I'm gathering the t shirts for my kids' quilts because when we have another night, I want to be able to say, "My shirts are ready to piece together."