Five Minute Friday – Barefoot Lily Lady

Books: Access to Knowledge

One story my mom told of her childhood sticks out in my mind today, but is a bit fuzzy around the edges — how I wish I had paid closer attention and written down the details while I had the chance.

Mom told of an aunt and uncle who owned a restaurant. When mom would visit, this auntie would let mom explore the former bookstore on the other side of the building she owned. When her aunt unlocked that door, mom had personal access to all of the books that were still nestled on each shelf of that now abandoned bookstore. A whole new world opened up to her as she fingered the pages of each book that she read. It is no wonder that mom carried the love of reading with her throughout life, until Alzheimer’s would overshadow her ability to read in her last year of life.

In 1964, a new branch of the Milwaukee public library opened up on Capitol Drive, in a neighborhood very familiar to my parents. Just a handful of years earlier, I had been born in the Capitol Drive hospital (where mom was a nurse) just a few miles east down the road, and my parents had lived in the house just behind that hospital for the first years of my life. Looking back, it’s no wonder my mom would be one of this library’s early patrons, or that some of my earliest memories are of her helping me choose books from its shelves. What a wonderful feeling it was when, a few years down the road, I received my very own library card, giving me my very own access to countless adventures in books, plus the resources I would need for school research down the road a few years.

Yours truly in kindergarten, the year my adventure in reading would begin. Note: mom was much better at helping me choose books to read than she was at cutting my hair.

Fast forward to 1969 when another library opened up to me. This library of just 66 books was contained within one greater volume. Yes, the Bible. It was during the 12th year of my life when I, by faith, met the Author of this book. In the very moment that I placed my trust in Christ, His Spirit came to dwell within me, unlocking and giving me full access to the truths within the pages of my Bible.

I learned a verse during that year which helped me understand the importance of this Book of all books in my new life as a believer and why it continues to speak to my heart and change me from within each and every time I spend time within its pages.

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.
2 Timothy 3:16-17 (ESV)

Laugh – Five Minute Friday

One word prompt sent to a community of bloggers. Five minutes to write about it. Unedited. Don’t think too hard…just write. The Five Minute Friday word prompt this week is LAUGH. Ready, set, go!

I heard my dad laugh this week. It took me by great surprise, because dad went to his heavenly home in 2008. But, there it was – that familiar laugh. It started with an under the breath “heh-heh-heh” that morphed to a jolly, tummy-jiggling chuckle, and ended with a loud, throw your head back, “Ha!”

It happened when I was paying my brother a visit in the nursing home where he resides. I usually stop by after work and bring him a home-baked cookie and his favorite peach ice-tea. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s always glad to see me.

There’s a nice comfy chair in the corner of Brad’s room right next to his bed. I plop my work-weary self in the chair, kick off my shoes and prop my feet up on the edge of his bed, then sit with him for a few minutes to watch whatever he’s watching on the television. It’s usually an episode of Blue Bloods, but on this day it was a funny movie. It was during that tv-watching moment when I distinctly heard my dad laugh.

Dad taking a ‘selfie’ long before it was a thing.

My brother laughs just like dad!

Discovering a Secret Garden

Alas, today’s snow flurries and nippy temperatures are just a foretaste of what is yet to come. My gardening checklist has quite a few tasks yet to complete in order to finish preparing my flowerbeds for winter’s sleep. How can it be mid-November already? It seems only yesterday that I was happily plodding barefoot through my gardens, planting this, transplanting that, and digging out weeds, and muttering under my breath at the voracious bunnies who happily brought their family and friends to my flowerbed buffet.

It also seems that not long ago I took a ~~wrong~~ ~~turn~~ detour and found myself driving down a street on which I had never traveled and found myself in an older section of town in what appeared to be an industrial park. Upon making a Y-turn to head back to the known route, I spied a sign to a public garden tucked in a messy-but-pretty flowerbed between what looked like two warehouses.

It was a beautiful summer afternoon, so I parked my car at the curb and accepted the sign’s invitation to wander down a footpath toward what looked like the garden’s entrance. Native plants seemed to hum with busy bees and butterflies. Flowers criss-crossed and lapped over the edges of the ungroomed pathway. The busy bees didn’t seem to mind my presence, so I carefully ventured further down the winding path, and there I found a hidden slice of peaceful beauty to explore.

I invite you to wander its pathways with me, courtesy of a few photos I snapped as I walked and explored.

Upon crossing this rustic footbridge, I entered the most enchanting prairie.

Flowers lured me in to wander pathways, and God’s creation beckoned me to praise Him.

I’ll be back…

I am joining (last minute on a Thursday) the Five Minute Friday writing community for a little writing adventure hosted by Kate Motaung. This week’s writing prompt is, “Wander.”

Blessed to Bake

I am truly blessed by God’s gift of being able to bake for my friends. While they will likely never recover from their illnesses and memory loss (on this side of Glory), I hope that my desserts and treats will help them recover a special lost memory of a yesterday and bring a little splash of momentary joy to their day.

I am blessed to spend three mornings every week baking for my friends. Each of these dear ones lives at BeeHive Assisted Living and Memory Care home due to some type of memory loss.

I am blessed to see my friends smile and wave at me as I measure my ingredients into my big mixing bowl. I love hearing the buzz as they talk amongst themselves about what I’m doing — guessing what will come out of the oven.

I am blessed to hear the ladies reminisce about how they used to bake for their families, or how their mom used to make what I am baking for them.

I am blessed when the aroma of something sweet baking in the oven wafts through the building and a dear one stops by the kitchen to ask, “What are we baking today?”

I am blessed when one gentleman scoots his wheelchair through the door and sits in the kitchen chatting in a language I cannot speak. My friend doesn’t eat sugary treats, but he likes to keep me company and watch me bake for awhile, then nods off in a little middle-of-the doorway nap. I hope his dreams are sweet.

I am blessed when one special lady-friend giggles and says (several times a day), “Since you started baking here, it’s getting hard for me to button my pants!” Just the smell of something baking in the oven has a way of making my friends smile and helps them anticipate their next meal.

I am blessed when I serve another friend her dessert before her meal – allowing her to start her meal with dessert means she will likely keep eating the rest of her meal. Her dainty little smile on her face as she savors her dessert blesses me.

I am blessed when I am able to take a little break from my baking to help one of my friends find her room (or her purse, or her keys). This friend is special to me because she shares my mom’s first name and reminds me of her in so many ways. I love it when this tiny little lady takes my hand in hers and draws it to her lips for a little kiss and says, “I will never forget your kindness.”

This post is part of the Five Minute Friday blog link-up where I join up with Kate Motaung and a community of writers and bloggers of all ages and stages who gather on Fridays around a single word prompt to free-write for five minutes. Kate’s word prompt for this week is {recover}.

Henry in the Middle

A little heartwarming story about a boy I love named Henry.

God filled my grandma cup with three incredibly sweet granddaughters – Violet, Mia, and Noelle. Life was filled with tea parties, princesses and fairies, Barbie dolls, and glitter adorned fairy wings and princess dresses. Then God took my decidedly glittery pink and purple cup of joy and filled it to overflowing by adding three grandsons – Charlie, Henry, and George. My grand-girl fun was by no means over, but my toy arsenal now included marble-eating plastic dinosaurs, toy cars and trucks, and lots of dirt and bugs.

A Garden Memory to Savor

Our local weatherman says we’re in for a few days of chilly temps, so I decided to take advantage of today’s fleeting afternoon warmth to rake leaves out of the flowerbed on the east side of our home. This flowerbed has never been a show-stopping focal point of our landscape and few people actually see it, so it’s usually the last flowerbed to garner any attention whatsoever from me. With a little more effort, I mused, I could create something eye-catching and special in this particular garden space.

I thought about that as I gingerly pulled the rake through the bed, gently coaxing last year’s leaves and debris toward the edge of the bed. Moving more slowly than usual because of a grumpy shoulder, I raked very carefully, slowly uncovering the new beginnings of unfurling leaves and flowers yet to bloom. Among them, a dozen or more clumps of hosta push their spikey heads above the earth; a Siberian iris and a daylily send leafy blades skyward; and a huge clump of sedum I wish I had divided long ago.

But there, in the far corner of this plot of earth was the plant I treasure very much. A few gentle pulls of the rake uncovered the red tips of one of my dad’s peonies inching their way out of the warming earth. A twinge of pain reminded me to take a little break, so I pulled my garden stool into the corner next to dad’s peony and surveyed the work I had accomplished thus far. It was looking good.

A brisk breeze tossed my hair in my eyes. Closing my eyes for a moment, I just listened to the nearby windchime’s frenzied melody and the sweet call of the cardinal in a neighboring magnolia tree. Opening my eyes again, I focused on carefully weeding around dad’s peony. As I pinched and pried, I thought about my dad and how much he nurtured and enjoyed his peonies. Few things brought him greater joy than snipping a few for the passersby who stopped to admire their beauty. That memory of him made me smile.

The wind was growing colder and a niggling of pain suggested it was time to gather my tools and call it a day. It’s hard to give thanks for the painful things in life, but I found myself offering a prayer of thanks to God for slowing me down enough so that I could savor the quietude of memories and the simple beauty of an emerging garden.

One word. Five minutes to write about it. This is the idea behind the Five Minute Friday community. Today’s free-writing word prompt: SAVOR

The Crocus: spring’s herald of beautiful possibilities

I have about a foot of snow left in my Wisconsin garden. Not a foot deep, mind you, but a little swath of white stuff on the north side of the house that’s about a foot wide and an inch or two deep. Another warm spring day and all the snow will be gone–and I am glad of it.

For the Love of Green

One word. Five minutes to write about it. This is the idea behind the Five Minute Friday community. Today’s free-writing word prompt: GREEN

What’s your favorite color?

As a gardener, I find that question hard to answer. There are so many pretty colors in my world of flowers. It’s hard to pick just one, but there is one captivating color which God tends to use liberally in His world of botanical beauty. It’s a color I find both restful and invigorating.

Green.

In all its magnificent shades, green complements all of the other colors in God’s creation, allowing each floral masterpiece to point to its Creator looking its exquisite best.

A Passion Enabled ‘Yes’!

Phew! I’m dead last (#56) in submitting my writing for the weekly Five Minute Friday link-up. FMF is an opportunity for writers of all abilities to gather each week around a single word prompt to freewrite for five minutes flat, then share our work and encourage one another. If this sounds like fun, you can learn more here.

This week’s FMF writing prompt is: ENABLE

The weather is trending warmer and my garden is calling me from underneath that ever-thinning blanket of white stuff. I am getting excited about once again feeling the earth beneath my feet as I meander through my flowerbeds pulling weeds, amending the soil, and getting my hands (and feet) dirty as I tend to the flowers thrusting their heads above the sun-warmed soil. Getting time in the garden will be a little trickier this year, as I just made a commitment which will ensure that I will wash my hands and feet a few days per week. A job. I wasn’t looking for a job, but my eldest granddaughter sent me a text about a job opportunity at her place of employment anyway. Her message said,

“PT cook?”

Violet works for BeeHive as a CNA (certified nursing assistant). If the name of her workplace sounds familiar to you, perhaps you may recall that my mother spent the last year of her life living in the care of BeeHive Assisted Living and Memory Care. I spent a lot of time there too, mostly loving on my mom, but helping where I could too. It was all little stuff that I could do when mom was napping: filling birdfeeders, pulling weeds, cleaning out cabinets, and an occasional organizational or word-processing project.

Every now and then I would get in a bake-someone-happy mood and would bring a big batch of cookies along with me and leave them in the kitchen for the staff to use as a snack for the residents (or themselves). Before long, I had a reputation for my baking. One resident loved cookies more than anyone I have ever met. I loved secretly tucking a cookie or two into June’s walker bag. Seeing her face light up when she discovered the treat made any effort on my part so worthwhile.

A week ago on Tuesday my phone rang. It was Gina at BeeHive and she wanted to let me know that there was a job opening assisting the cook with baking duties (yep, the same job Violet told me about). Gina wondered if I would be interested.

Interesting how God used my love for baking and my passion for the mission of BeeHive to enable me to say “yes” to this opportunity without a moment’s hesitation. I didn’t need to say, “Let me pray about it.” I pray for them often and I knew that God was blessing me with this chance to make a difference.

I See You

Today I’m linking up with the Five Minute Friday community, writing for five minutes on a given word prompt. This week’s word is OBSERVANT.

My eyes followed the two women as they pushed a cart together through our local Aldi – the younger woman guiding and steadying the older. There was something endearing and precious about the scene…and personally familiar.

Even though my eyes are growing weaker with age (cataracts are forming, I am told), my eyes have become more observant in their ability to pick out the caregivers I encounter in everyday life. I believe this deeper level of awareness is one of the hidden graces of my personal journey in being an Alzheimer’s caregiver for my sweet mom.

Because I have been there, I see this loving daughter guarding her mother’s dignity as she slowly guides her through the store. My eyes see the mask of confusion in her momma’s eyes, and see the gentle way the daughter helps her mom choose groceries to put in their cart.

Because I have been there, my eyes see the caregiver in the waiting room of the dental office trying to convince their forgetful loved one that they just went to the bathroom and didn’t need to go again. I can show empathy because I remember that taking a loved one to the bathroom is not a 5-minute job.

Because I have been there, I see the caregiver in the parking lot trying to help their agitated and combative loved one buckle their seatbelt. I see and know the sheer exhaustion of it all.

My Alzheimer’s-aware eyes see the frazzled caregiver trying to go through the Culver’s drive-through as her daddy repeatedly unbuckles his seatbelt and tries to exit the vehicle. I see her anxious eyes in her rearview mirror as she waits to place their order. Tears are pooling there, ready to spill because she feels hopeless and alone.

May my eyes never be blinded to the needs of caregivers God places in my path. I pray God will help me see each caregiver through His loving and compassionate eyes.