The last moments....

Good morning everyone....it's 3:25 in the AM here and I'm sure everyone is up and awake just like me, right?  It didn't even surprise me when my eyes popped open just a while ago, in fact I knew the exact time it was, 3:15 AM, without even looking.  I'm "weird" that way.


The house is eerily quiet and pretty much empty as I sit here on the floor, pounding away on this keyboard.  Sure glad that the friendly people at Cox Communications haven't shut down the Internet yet because there was one more blog post that I didn't realize I should write before I leave here.


I have often told people of my story of being a CNA, providing long-term care for the elderly in our community here in Hutchinson.  One of the greatest privileges of that whole job was to be able to be with them in their final moments here on this earth.  You know, in my opinion it is a real blessing to be there by their bedside and hold their hand as they take their final breaths and with peace "slip"  away to a place far better than this one will ever be, even at its "best" of times.  And when it is finally over and done, I have seen many of my co-workers as well as myself, break down in tears of sorrow as our hearts feel the "personal" loss of a friend.  Getting "too close, too attached" to a person that you take care of in the long-term care setting can be a "not so good" thing but I just figure it's a part of the way life can turn out to be.  And I can only hope that when "Peggy Miller" dies that there will be someone there to hold my hand and cry for me.


Friends, I thought of this late last evening as I was finishing up the very last full day that I will call Hutchinson "home".  Even though I am sure of the knowledge that this move today to Valley Center is going to be a part of "the plan" for my life, I started to become afraid and doubtful.  And the more I thought about it, the more unsure I was.  Hate to admit it, but there were more than just a couple of tears that began to roll down my face and all of a sudden I was more afraid than I was determined.  And I can't believe that I have to say that, but it is true.


When my eyes finally closed in sleep about 11 it was with the knowledge that a huge chunk of my life was now going to change and I think I would be so remiss if I didn't tell you that I know I'm going to miss it here.  After 56 years, you know you kind of / sort of get into a habit, a pattern of living in just such a certain way.  Having endured 8 months of "old lefty's" experience, I realize all too well the need, as dear old Mrs. Carmichael from back home in Haven would always say, to get a "move on".  So today, Saturday the 31st of March in the spring of my 57th year, I'm doing just that.


In just a couple of hours, my son Grahame will be starting up the UHaul and leading the way for us towards Valley Center.  So very grateful that the load has been made lighter by my sons Ricky and Grahame and my daughter Ursela as we packed life "away" during these past two days.  What an ordeal and I'm telling you guys....in the near future I'm definitely going to be travelling a lot lighter. This experience in moving has taught me a lot and one of the most beneficial things is this:  The "100 Thing" movement has its own great merits.  To my sister-in-law Paula and nephew Christopher as well as my good friend Pat and her granddaughter, Ella, I say "thank you" for helping me move today.  The load is always lighter with many hands at work.


I feel better now having sent this message and it doesn't even surprise me~I knew it would even as I hit the first "keystroke" of the computer.  I have said many times before, when life gets overwhelming just as it did last night for a moment, the very best therapy for me is to sit down and write about it.  Works every time for me.


Well, it's nigh onto 4:00 AM now and surely by now many of you are "up and at it", right?  In an hour, I'll pay a visit to the 30th Street McDonald's and order the "usual" for my breakfast and then get home and finish up a few last minute things.  In Sarasota, Florida right now there is a family of 5 loading up into their UHaul van as well and heading towards a new life of their own here in Hutchinson, KS.  There's a little girl I want to meet....her name is Kaylynn.  She's coming here to the land of "Ahs" to live with her family in her Great-Aunt Peggy's house.  At the wonderful age of "2", she's getting the chance to find out what it's like to grow up in the Midwest.  I can't wait to see how she loves it here~May Godspeed her precious journey with her grandparents, Scott and Lisa and her parents, Danielle and Chris.


So, I guess it's "good bye" Hutchinson, Ks.  Thanks for being my home for all of these years. And you know, I guess if I was a city....then I'd hope that someday someone would cry when they had to leave me too.  


And Valley Center, I'm on my way!  I cannot wait to find out what it is that God has in store for me there.  Knowing Him, it's going to be wonderful, whatever it is :) I am sure to love it there~it's a part of His plan.  Last night I wavered but now things are better and I remain more determined than I would ever be afraid.  March 31st, 2012 is the greatest day to be alive and I intend to, as the Good Book says, "rejoice and be glad in it."  Have a great weekend my family and friends and by the way, do something good for YOURSELF today.  Love you all.....Peggy

The only way to "surf the net" was on the floor yesterday and IF the good folks at Toshiba who might be seeing this would love to give me a new laptop in the future for advertising their wonderful product here....well...... :)  Nah, it was worth it~

Time to go.....

Just a short message tonight, with less than 48 hours before we pull out of here and head east towards a new home, a new life, and a new community--Valley Center, Kansas.  The past 24 hours have been wild and crazy, with little sleep and rest for any of the folks living here at this home on 14th Street.  Between my two sons, Ricky and Grahame, we were able to load up the UHaul this afternoon, filling it to the brim.  Even as "high and tight"  as former Gov. Bill Graves would have wanted it to be packed, we eventually realized that this is going to be a "2 trip" move.  For all of the blessings that God has given this family, we are thankful for the necessity of the extra load.  It's all in your perspective, I believe.


We won't have internet access here much past tomorrow so I decided to make one last post before we left on Saturday morning.  I am excited about the move to Valley Center and really anxious to find out what it is that might well be waiting for me there.  I have met 7 people in all now so it's not like I'm going to a place where EVERYONE is a stranger.  Valley Center has much to offer the folks that live there and I've already seen many things that have caught my interest.  I'm going to make it fine there and please, I say to you again there is no need to worry for me.  After "old lefty's" journey, I am afraid of nothing.  


I've lived all 56 years of my life in Reno County~half of them in my hometown of Haven and the other half in the Hutchinson community.  I have always considered it to be a tremendous blessing to say I am from here.  I'm not leaving because I don't want to live here any longer....I'm leaving because there is a place I wish to live in even more.  If you call either of those two great places, Haven or Hutch your "home", then you are indeed fortunate my friends.  Don't ever forget that or take it for granted.


It's time to say "Good-Bye 304 East 14th Street, Hutchinson, KS."  If a place could save my life, well then this little white house with pink trim did just that.  So house, I say "thank you"....you reached into the depths of my sadness and loneliness and you saved ME.  I'm "ok" now and ready to move on.  I believe I can make it on my own now, with all thanks to you.  


Good Night Everyone!  I love you guys all....I could never have asked for better friends than you are.

Holy Moley...glad I am not wearing a cast these past few days...now that would have been tricky, at best.  "Old lefty" is getting stronger every day and that's a good thing.  If arms could talk, I'm sure it would be saying...."leave it to me right arm, I can do this."  :)

"Old Lefty" who USED to be broken

You know, I guess if there were memorial services for broken and busted up arms, then today would have been "old lefty's".  On this, the 235th day of confinement, Dr. Chan took a look see at the 
x-rays and pronounced it "healed."  The 8-month ordeal was finally done and as I sit here and type this blog post, I couldn't be much happier.


I didn't sleep well last night, much like the night before my surgeries always went.  I tossed and turned and I'm really not sure why.  I knew when I woke up this morning at 3:30 that it was pointless to go back to sleep so I got up and readied myself for my 7:30 appointment in Wichita.  Driving over there gave me plenty of time  to think about things and when I walked through the doors of the Kansas Orthopaedic Center, I knew it would be my last time.  


As usual, first stop was x-rays.  By my count I must have had a hundred of them taken over the course of  time since August.  Only this time, I had a strange request for the x-ray technician.  I asked her to take a photo of what my arms looked like from the outside instead of the inside for a change.  She laughed at me and said that was the first time a request like that had been made of her.  The photo, shown below, is a part of the healing process for me.  I have taken many pictures since my accident because I never want to forget what I had to go through and equally important I always wanted to remember all of the people who put my "humpty dumpty" arm back together again.

 Actually, from a distance with one of your eyes closed and the other one half-open, my left arm really doesn't look so bad.  But up close, you can still see a marked difference.  Dr. Chan said it can take up to a year for all of the swelling to go down and the stiffness I feel most of the time, especially in the morning...well that's going to be the way it is from now on.  The arm, from the shoulder down to my fingertips, will have a shrunken appearance for now.  With luck as I begin to use it and build back the muscle tone in it, there's a chance that it might get a little better.  The scars have faded a bit over time but they are still very apparent.  I kind of think that the first one looks something akin to the Nile River but that's just me. Probably the most noticeable difference to me is how the skin looks.  In appearance, the left hand looks about 10 years older than the right but hey, that's just me.


One of the things I have learned is that it doesn't pay to be too vain in situations like this one. Wait a minute, I think I should rephrase that....It does NOT pay to be vain AT ALL during times like this.  In the beginning, I was so self-conscious about the way my arm looked.  Seemed like my fingers looked more like fat, little sausages with all the swelling that was taking place and of course, can't forget "the bump".  During the first month or two, my fingers were crooked and my feeble attempts to use them (for example the sticker-peeling fiasco of September) showed just how far I had to go to get better.  And now, as I look at it this very moment, I believe I have to say that I think "old lefty who used to be broken" is the most beautiful arm around....hope you understand what I mean.


But my greatest heroes of them all, my students at Lincoln Elementary, soon helped me to learn that there was nothing to be ashamed of in the way that "old lefty" looked.  They were among my  staunchest supporters and cheerleaders.  Soon we all grew accustomed to "the look" and after awhile, no one even noticed or cared.  I will always love that memory and the children that provided it for me. 



Dr. Chan did some measurements of my wrist's mobility and range of motion.  I could tell by the look on his face that he was very pleased.  After looking at the x-rays he told me that I was as good as he could make me and given the severity of my injuries in the first place, he was actually surprised that I improved as much as I did.  He gave permission to now go back to whatever I had done before, just to be careful.  Seeing his "ear to ear" grin made me feel like the 8-month journey had been worth it all.


I asked him what he thought about my returning to a part-time job as a C N A and I could tell by the "frowny face" that he began to wear that it didn't look good.  He advised against it, simply because of the need to lift and turn patients.  Not only could I get hurt if someone were to land on my wrist, I could also hurt someone else if my strength suddenly gave way.  I respect his decision and though I will miss it, it's best not to.  I also wanted to ask him about bicycling once again.  The minute he heard the question, I knew what he would say.....not exactly what I wanted to hear.  I can return to bicycling but once again he uttered these words (and he meant them) "DO NOT crash and burn, Peggy!"  He reminded me that if that happened again to "old lefty" the results could be even more disastrous.  


And with that, it was over.  I gave him a hug and thanked him for saving me.  And he said something very similar to what I heard all along from him, only this time it was slightly different.  "Peggy, YOU GOT WELL, and that's thanks enough for me."  


Before leaving, I had to stop one more time in therapy to visit my good friend and now "former" taskmaster, Kim Lockwood.  I was just sure that he would want one more chance to see how far he could twist my left forearm without my screaming out in pain, "STOP!"  LOL But he didn't although he did check to see if any strength had returned to my left hand.  Since this whole ordeal started back in August, I was lucky to score an "18" on the strength meter.  But today, I gave it all I had and ended up with a score of "28"...I know that a gain of 10 isn't all that wonderful but at least it's getting a little closer to matching the "55" that the right hand can give.  I'm getting better every day! :)


Before I close this blog post, I surely do wish to thank all the folks who helped me get through this time in life.  The doctors and nurses, friends and family who helped me to get better will never forgotten by me.  They provided so much help and there's no way that I could have gotten by without them.  May I make one last comment....and it has to do with the man from Missouri who provided the bone material in order that a graft could take place to repair my wrist.






I have said all along, and I say it again today, the decision to be a donor upon your death is a very personal decision to make.  Not everyone wants to do that, not everyone agrees with it.  I respect your decision totally.  But if you are someone who is willing to do that, please be sure that your family knows of your wishes.  Consider donating not only your organs, but skin, cartilage and bone as well.  As for me, I found out first hand of the importance of harvesting bone.  Before August 10th,  2011 I had absolutely no idea it could be done.  Now I try to tell everyone that I know about it, always hoping they will never need to find out, but realizing that somewhere along the line they or a family member may of necessity, find out.


Thanks for reading my "bucket list journey of 2011" each time.  It's been good therapy for me to write it and as I looked back over some of the posts from August-November, I realize that many times pounding the keys of this keyboard helped to "save me" from myself.  :)  It was way better than Percocet or Lortab for taking care of the sadness and overwhelming feeling of loss that I sometimes felt.  

I made it friends~But you guys always knew that I would.  Time to move on now.  Taking the rest of the week "off" from writing in this blog.  But once I get settled in Valley Center this weekend, I intend to start again.  So my friends, I'll see you then.






From the "Good Book"~John 15:13
"No greater love hath a man than this....that he would lay down his life for a friend."
In remembrance of Eleanor and an unknown 45-year old man from Missouri whose death and subsequent donation of his bones enabled the doctors to repair my busted up wrist.  Rest in Peace whoever you may have been.  I will meet you in Heaven one day, I'm sure.

The end of "old lefty's" journey

Time to make one final trip to the "land of miracles" tomorrow morning and with any luck, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Dr. Chan will take one last look at "old lefty" and say..."you made it...you're done!"  235 days, 3 surgeries, 7 casts, and 5 scars later, my time will be at hand.  And as Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young sang at Woodstock, "it's been a long time coming and it's going to be a long time gone", leastwise I sure hope so.


I've thought off and on today about what it will be like tomorrow, to finally know that I'm healed up enough to be dismissed at long last.  What in the heck used to be normal?  Actually, not too sure that I remember.  Prior to the August 4th accident, it had been a great summer.  Hotter than the dickens and even more dry than I remember in my life.  But on the morning of August 4th, the temperature couldn't have been better and I posted on my FB page at 6:30 a.m. that I was heading off for my ride.  Little did I know what was about to happen to me.


I went back in time today to the blog post I made the day after the accident.  Actually I dictated and my son Grahame typed.  As I read it, I gave pause to the realization of just how badly I had been hurt and how very far I have come back.  The post follows below:


August 5, 2011
You Just Never Know


Grahame here again. Otherwise this post might not make it online until next week.


I didn't wake up yesterday on August 4th expecting things to go the way they did.  But life happens and you just have to take whatever comes your way.  I'm putting this post online today because I'm feeling really sad and right now things seem kind of hopeless.  I bet by the time I post this online, I'll have a better outlook on life.


My day started off really good yesterday.  It was a beautiful morning here in south central Kansas.  I knew by the early morning forecast that the temperatures would be in the low 70's by the time I  rode, so at 6:30 a.m. I headed out for my usual 10 mile ride.  When I went past the Medical Center "time and temperature" it read 74 degrees.  NOW THAT IS  A BICYCLIST'S DREAM RIDE.


It was a lot of fun riding to the south on Main Street.   I passed a lot of the usual people that I see every morning as I ride.  It was interesting to notice that everyone seemed to be in a much  better mood today than yesterday.  Must've been those cooler temperatures that made everyone feel "human" again.  Whatever it was, it was nice.


About halfway through my ride down Main, I saw my good friend, Mike Fazio, putting up banners for the city.  I yelled "hello" and kept on riding down the street.  Because the north breeze was pushing me, I found it easy to keep a steady pace at 12 mph and it felt good!


Halfway through the ride, I decided to come back home because some storm clouds were brewing in the north west.  As much as I miss the moisture, I really don't want to take a bath in it on a bicycle.    I came back on Main and stopped to visit with Mike for a bit about the possibility of our riding bikes together some time together in the future and then I headed home.


For some strange reason, instead of turning on 14th for home, I went on to 17th Street.  There is a family on 17th that has been working hard all summer long, on a patio/fenced in garden area by their house.  All summer I had been thinking that it would be good to stop and tell them someday how nice everything was looking.  So when I went past their house and saw them there on the porch, I decided that this was the day!


There I was, a total stranger on a bike, standing there talking to people I had never met.  But after 5 minutes of conversation, we were strangers no more.  They really acted like they appreciated the fact that ANYONE would've noticed what they were doing, especially someone they didn't know.  How many times have I blown opportunities, just like THAT one, to tell someone that I appreciated their hard work and effort in doing something.  


I headed on home from there at a pretty steady pace.  As I rounded the corner at 14th and Elm, I remember seeing by my odometer that close to ten miles for the trip.  Without even thinking, I started riding even faster  No special reason to do so, it just felt good.  By the time I made it to my house, the speedometer read almost 10 mph and that's when it happened.


As I got to the point where I turn into my driveway,  I realized I was late in making my turn.  Rather than go ahead to the next driveway, for some asinine reason, I decided to jump the curb.  To my friends Craig, Dennis, and LeRoy I already know what you are thinking.  LOL  But I did it anyway!

I knew better, but I guess at age 55, you have to chalk it up to being an old person.  It didn't work out so good and the results were catastrophic for me!  The picture below shows the indentation of my handlebars and mirror in the ground.  It's a wonder that I wasn't hurt any worse.

Except for popping the mirror off, the bike was in decent shape.  No issues with the rim or tires, just the mirror.  I didn't fare so well.

During surgery yesterday, the doctor found that my entire radius was shattered.  Bones were twisted around and some even fell out, never to be found again!  But he did the best he could under some very dire conditions, attached an external fixator to my arm and pinned everything back together again.  For the next 4 weeks I'll have the pins and after that another 4 weeks in an actual cast.  My wrist will never again be the same as this was a "worst case scenario", but all in all I got off pretty easy!

I have to admit that I broke two of the cardinal rules for bicycling yesterday.  I wasn't wearing a helmet and I was going way too fast for the conditions.  I was a total idiot for not wearing my helmet and I know it.  So to anyone who rides a bike, please take my advice and always put your helmet on.  I was blessed to not having any head injuries, and for that I do give thanks.  I will never ride my bike again without a helmet on.  And on the issue of going too fast, I hope that I never feel the need for speed again.  It's fun to go fast on a bike, but only when it's safe to do so.

I want to thank everyone for their kind wishes for recovery and their prayers to get better.  I have more good friends and family than I could have even imagined.  I will be spending the next few days reevaluating my "bucket list" and trying to decide which one to tackle one-armed.  I have been blessed, even in this accident, and I know it.  I can at least walk and laugh and do most things normally, including driving and writing, as I am right-handed.  Things could have been so much worse and I know it.  I've been told that I chose the best possible limb I could have for this to happen to, so what else could I ask for?  

  

                                                   Me at the scene of the crime~


After reading this again today, I realize just how foolish I was and I don't mean in my attempt to jump a curb (althought that would win the award for foolishness, hands down).  Naively I thought that in 8 weeks time, all would be well again.  Little did I realize that it would be 8 months, not 8 weeks before I could ever say my arm and wrist had healed.  I found out, the hard way!


I am so thankful to be at the "end of the road"  here and after tomorrow, I'll be able to drive past the Kansas Orthopaedic Center each day on my way to and from my home in Valley Center, without being a patient there.  What a nice feeling to think of!  


No matter what, when all is said and done, I still stand firmly by my conviction that having this accident was the BEST thing, not the WORST, that ever happened to me.  My life changed for the better and I will never again take any of it for granted.  Sorry that I had to learn the hard way....but when you are a slow learner like I am.....well, you get the picture!  :)

Fun days of biking last summer with lots of good friends!  I WILL be back!  You can count on it :)

Good-Bye 382 Shin Dang Dong

Hey, I was just about positive THAT title would get your attention~ It did mine, the first time I saw it.


"Good-Bye 382 Shin Dang Dong" is a short story from the third grade reading book here at our school, Lincoln Elementary.  It tells the story of a little girl from Korea who moves from the only home she has ever known in life to a new place in America called "Massachusettess".  The story tells of the little girl's struggle to give up a life that she has always been used to and bravely go to a new land, a place so very far away.  


A couple of weeks ago I sat reading the story with a group of 3rd graders that I work with each day. As we read, I began to see myself in the face of the story's main character, a little girl named Jangmi.  And when the author wrote of Jangmi's sadness and uncertainty in leaving a life she knew all too well, I said to myself "Hey kid, I know just how you feel!"


I have been so busy these past few weeks with packing, sorting and getting rid of stuff that I have had little time to think about what it will really feel like when the moving truck pulls out of here for "good" on the morning of March 31st.  Now as the calendar begins its one week countdown to leaving, the reality is starting to sink in.  And if I said it wasn't just a little bit scary, well then I would be lying to you.  But I am yet more determined to go than I would ever be afraid of leaving.  I still believe that something very wonderful is waiting for me in Valley Center and I won't know it until I get there.  Watch and see friends....I feel it to be true.


The house here is a total wreck...ok, ok, maybe just half of a wreck all things considered.  There are boxes on the front porch, boxes stacked up two deep along the dining room wall, and bunches of leftover boxes strewn throughout the house.  Yet as I surely came to realize earlier, these boxes upon boxes of things are reminders of the Lord's blessings upon me and my family each and every day.  On a positive note, Oblio "the round head" cat is having the time of her" 9 lives".  She's never had so many cool things to play on.......and certainly proving the point that it doesn't take much to entertain a cat, especially our Obie.


You know, over time little Jangmin from "Good-Bye 382 Shin Dang Dong", settled in to her new life in America.  By and by, the homesickness lessened and she even made a new friend named Mary.  She never forgot where she came from or all of the people and memories she left behind there. In the end, I think the same shall  be said of me.


Today is my last Sunday here and oh man, is there a lot yet to do.  But I will make it, I am positive.  Next Saturday the keys to this humble home will be passed over to  my nephew, Scott Wright and his family.  They will be the "keepers" of this house for me and it makes me so pleased to know that they will be here to care for it.  


My life had taken some sad and unplanned turns by the time I bought this house 7 years ago  now.  But God knew what He was doing (as always) when He brought me here.  So thankful to be able to "land" here and begin the process of healing once again from the wounds that life sometimes deals us.  I cannot promise that I will not cry as I drive away next weekend but I do promise to never forget the good that happened here for me.  Who knows?  Maybe someday there shall be a story in a child's reader called "Good-Bye 304 East 14th Street."  Hey, IT can happen!

It's nothing fancy, that's for sure.  There's no swimming pool/tennis court in the backyard, but there is a heck of a garden spot that grows the best "french fry" plants ever!  There's one bathroom with sometimes the longest waiting line imaginable and with only 2 bedrooms, you can sometimes find a bunch of bodies (geesch, live ones of course :) in sleeping bags on the living room floor.  I wouldn't trade the time I spent here for ANYTHING.  "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home!"  

when life goes differently than planned~

My dear friends, I decided to write one last blog post before taking a little break from writing for awhile.  I feel like the proverbial "plate spinner" with a thousand plates spinning at once with about 999 of them ready to crash at any given moment in time!  Don't worry, I've picked up the pieces of many broken plates before.  Kind of used to it actually :)


I've been so very busy these past few days trying my best to get things packed up and ready to move very soon.  My house here on 14th Street has started to become noticeably bare inside with boxes packed full of my stuff stacked two deep along the dining room wall. In my efforts to start to "travel lightly" I have either sold or given away many things.  Man, I want to take a moment to say how wonderful it does feel to do that!  I've been "tied" to excess things for most of my adult life.  What freedom I have felt to be able to systematically rid myself of things that I honestly can't remember why I even bought them in the first place.  My things had begun to own "me", rather than my owning "them." 


Two weeks from yesterday, I will have spent my first full day living in Valley Center, Ks.  I cannot imagine how strange it will feel to wake up in a different house, on a different street, in a strange new town.  But I'm soon fixing to find out!  


I have fielded many questions from friends and family alike as to why I would want to leave Hutchinson in the first place and head to a town like Valley Center.  And you know, I really don't have a good answer for them, at least not one that they wish to hear (LOL).  There are a few, ok maybe more than a few, who don't believe my decision to move away to be a wise one.  I respect them for that and actually am thankful that they care enough about me to mention it.  There are others who have said they are happy for me to be able to go, that they too would like to someday make a move to a new place, a new life.  While I respect each and every person's kind thoughts and concerns for me, I know that the decision is mine and mine alone to make.  My choice is to leave and find out what life is like somewhere else.  And so, in two weeks more I shall be doing just that very thing.


Having said all of this, I have to tell you that sometimes even I stop and wonder about my decision and the prospect of starting a new life elsewhere.  It is a little scary to uproot yourself from a place that you know well enough that it becomes second nature for you to live there.  But scary as it might be, I am looking at the move as a good opportunity for me to figure out what I wish to do with the rest of my life.  I would say that I am still trying to figure out what to do when I grow up but as my good friend, LeRoy Willis would be quick to point out....you may have to grow older but you never have to grow up!  As of this evening,  I know 5 people in Valley Center and one of the first things I need to consider doing is meeting at least 5 more.  And I will, you just watch and see!


You know what?  Last evening while I was mowing the yard, the weirdest thing happened to me.  Friends, I believe that I got a message from God.  And the message was this, "going to Valley Center is my plan for you...don't worry, everything will work out fine."  And that was it....nothing more and nothing less.  Strange how He chooses to let us know sometimes just what He desires for us.  Imagine that, me pushing an old lawnmower and trying to cut some of the worst Bermuda grass ever getting "the word" from above.  Hey, IT can  happen!


Those of you who have read this blog before know that I've received numerous "whacks upside the head" from God when I wasn't paying attention to what He was trying to tell me, asking me to see.  But last night's message wasn't a "wake up Peggy Miller...do you need me to shake you by the shoulders?" kind of moment.  Rather, it was more like a whisper, that "still small voice" that the "good book" speaks of so often.  And what was most amazing to me was the fact that this time, for once, I heard it and I knew what it meant for me.  And if I had to choose between a "whack upside the head" when I'm in the mood to do things my way and ask God about it later and listening to the "still small voice", well friends I'm going with the "still small voice".  Makes me stop and wonder just how many other messages I've missed in this life.  Thinking for sure that there have probably been many.  


The  upcoming week is to be a very busy one for me, both at my job and at home.  Even though lots of stuff is packed away, there is still a whole bunch more that lies waiting.  Since I sometimes feel like I've been "trading daylight for dark" a lot lately, I guess I'd better get a move on.  The next 11 days will fly by faster than can be imagined.  I'm going to take a little break from my blog and concentrate on getting all of my loose ends tied up here at home.  So much lies ahead~


Come Friday morning, March 30th, a big UHaul truck will be parked in the driveway of my home.  My two "strong" :) sons, Ricky and Grahame are my moving guys and they'll be busy loading up my belongings in anticipation of my moving away on March 31st.  I've been blessed with a group of friends, teachers from school, who are willing to help me take the little stuff over in their vehicles.  We might look like something out of the "Grapes of Wrath" as we leave Hutch and head to Sedgwick County but I think we'll make it just fine.  


I'll post again next week, closer to the time of departing here.  In the meantime, I still will think of you all my dear friends.  May the days ahead be peaceful ones for you and please don't worry about anything for me.  I'm way more determined than I could ever possibly be afraid in this life.  I'll make it and so will you!  Good night everyone....talk to you in a week!

Back when I was young and foolish (2 years ago) and actually THOUGHT I was retiring...Slow learner....

Dan Fogelberg - Part of the plan

Happy Birthday in Heaven to my dear brother, Mike Scott~ALS may have taken your life but your spirit surely lives on here.  Thanks for introducing me to the music of Dan Fogelberg~one of your favorite artists and surely one of mine as well.  And as his words say, "one day we'll all understand".  Everything that happened to you, everything that has happened to me....just a "part of the plan". No matter our age, it always feels as if you are gone too soon.   Rest in peace~


                                                                 Mike Scott
                                               20 March, 1945-12 November, 2007

From their grandma's hands

This has been a terribly busy week here as I pack and get ready to move two weeks from today to my new home in Valley Center, Ks.  Every day I have gone through stuff, little by little, decided what to keep, what to store, what to get rid of.  And with all of the "surprises" that I've found as I packed, I think I should have to move more often!  :)


It's pretty amazing what you come across when you finally start looking through things.  My cache of " So dang, THAT'S where that went!" things includes a brand new book of stamps, a $20 bill folded into the pocket of my old winter coat, the seed catalogues that I looked "high and low" for last spring, plus a library book that I was sure I'd have to pay for sooner or later!  And among those things and many more, I came across 3 small boxes with my mom's handwriting printed on the top.  Although it had been almost 7 years since I saw them, I knew exactly what I'd find inside of them.

My mom loved to embroider things~that woman could sit for hours watching her favorite TV shows, like "Walker, Texas Ranger" and make endless, colorful satin, chain, and lazy daisy stitches.  It was her passion, an inevitable way to relax as well as keep her arthritic fingers as nimble as she could.  Wasn't unusual at all to stop by her home on any given day and find her there on the couch, needle and embroidery thread in hand wearing a shiny thimble on her right thumb and a nice smile on her face. 

I don't really recall a time when she didn't embroider and the 5 years or so, prior to her entering a nursing home in 2003, it seemed like she always was working on some project or another.  All of us kids, brothers and sisters alike, were the recipients of many tea towels, pillow slips, table cloths and dresser scarves.  It always pleased Mom to know that we actually took them home and put them to good use instead of  just laying them away in a drawer somewhere to keep them looking "nice."  They were to be pieces of utilitarian work, not some fancy thing that from time to time you saw as you were laying away the "next" piece.  She was like that and so am I.

Once I remember being at her house and noticing her working on a set of pillow cases, not at all unusual for her to do.  But what was strange was a box sitting next to her and a handwritten note slipped inside.  I recall asking her who the pillow slips were for and she asked me to read the message that was nestled inside the box.  With tears in my eyes, I read this message she had written to my eldest son, Ricky Miller.

"These are for you when you get married as I have given most of my married grandkids a set of pillow cases when they got married.  Not knowing how long I'll be able to embroider, I decided to do them now.  Thank your mother for saving them for you.  With all my love, Grandma  

Date:  11-12-02"

I remember her grinning at me and motioning to a stack of 2 other boxes and inside of them were the finished pillow cases for my two other children, Grahame and Ursela, with similar messages inside.  It got to me that day and truth be told, there are huge tears rolling down my face now as I try to type these words.  For the last 10 years, I have kept them safe and secure in my possession and I had almost forgotten they were there until I started cleaning out my closet in preparation for moving to Valley Center.  This morning I found them....


You know, I didn't take them out of the box...only peeked inside to see Mom's beautiful stitchery.  I wanted my children to see how she had left them, exactly as she had put them inside the box.  Taking them out ahead of time, almost seemed like it would interrupt the natural way her hands long ago had placed them in there.  Don't know if you can understand how I felt about it~but it was a strange feeling to see them there.


You know friends, I always tried to be a "good girl", to do exactly as my parents asked of me....but this time, I'm going to go against my mom's wishes and actually I think she would understand completely.  When Mom wrote in her note, "Not knowing hold long I'll be able to embroider, I decided to do them now", I think in her heart what she was really telling them was that she didn't know how much longer she would be here with us.  As it turned out, she passed 5 years later at the age of 87. 


When I read the messages that she had left to my kids this morning I stopped to think, "Hey I might not be around here either Mom" so I made my own "Plan B" and married or not, I'm giving them to them now.  Later on this spring and summer, all 3 of them are taking out to places far from our home here in south central Kansas and when they leave, their pillow cases will be packed in with all of their other belongings.  When they lay down to sleep, in Kent, Ohio~Tulsa, Oklahoma~or Phoenix, Arizona their heads will be resting on pillows covered up by their grandma's love for them.  Knowing my mom, I think she'd be glad to know they did that.


Are you hanging on to anything my friends that are you afraid to use?  I know that I've done my share of it in this life.  But just for today, how about going to the place where you keep it hidden and tucked away and actually get it out to use it for a change.  It may well be one of the best ways to honor the person who gave it to you in the first place....after all, you were the person it was intended for.  :)  Have a great weekend and enjoy this beautiful weather that most of our nation is now enjoying!

Made by my mom's hands for 3 of her grandchildren~She is now resting in Heavenly peace~Handmade gifts given to Ricky, Grahame, and Ursela and a special gift to me this morning to find them.  

ready to close the chapter

Unless I'm dreadfully mistaken (sure hope that's not the case) my doctor visit to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita on March 26th will be the final day for "old lefty's" problem.  If that is indeed to be true, then this journey that I have been on will have taken a grand total of 235 days to travel through.  Over 8 months, what seemed like a thousand dr. visits, more "exoskeletons" than I've ever desired to become acquainted with, and innumerable regrets for ever having tried to jump that stupid curb in the first place (LOL), it will be through!


I have tried to keep "old lefty" very busy and productive since I last saw Dr. Chan.  I'm getting braver and braver all the time with using my left hand for things that I just a month or two ago thought would never happen again.  The crew at the Wendy's drive-thru cheered me on last night when I paid for my food with my left hand and even dared to get back the change in the same way. My usual carry-out guy at Dillons tells me that he is starting to feel "left out" (LOL) because I no longer need his assistance with getting even ONE bag of groceries carried out to my pick up.  Things are looking better all the time.


Even though I notice every day that things are getting better, there are still some issues that I will need to continue working on.  It will be a happy day for me when I no longer have to reach over with my right hand to roll up my truck windows.  One thing I have learned for sure is that I seem to spend way too much time in drive-thru lanes each day.  :)


Anything that requires much of a twisting motion, for instance turning a door knob, is still quite difficult for me to do.  But I am making forward progress and to me, that's all I need to remember.  Keeping in mind that Dr. Chan told me it could take a year or more for everything to return to normal, I think I probably should consider my progress to be pretty dang good :)  Living through this experience has begun to be the "life lesson" of learning to be more forgiving of myself and to be thankful for any accomplishment "old lefty" and I have made.  For a woman who started this ordeal out with a limb that, from the inside, looked like a bomb had exploded, I have come such a very far way.  And this day, I acknowledge that to myself.  See, I told  you I was getting better :)


Friends, I am positive that many of you have gone through similar trials in your lives and I'm just about as certain that many of them have been a thousand times worse than my battle with a broken arm.  Many who might read this blog post have lost a spouse or a child or grandchild.  Some have lost their jobs with little hope of being rehired in the near future.  I'm blessed to have never experienced having cancer or heart disease, but right now I know that 6 of my friends are facing those very  life threatening illnesses.  And many times I have thought, "Why them?  Why not me?"


I will have learned many lessons having survived this 8 month long experience, each one of them important in their own way.  But one of the unexpected ones that I realized early on was just how much we all need one another to make it through the rough times that this life has to offer.  As I near the end of this particular journey, I once again offer a heartfelt thanks to anyone who ever did anything to help me get through this.  If you tied my shoes or listened to me as I cried in defeat, and everything else in between, may God bless you for lifting me up.  Perhaps someday I will be able to do the same for you my dear friends.....I'm not going to be forgetting.  Good night dear friends and have a great sleep!  

The view from the front yard from my house on 14th Street this afternoon.  I love these ornamental pear trees...a pair of them standing tall.  It's always been amazing to me how God figured out all of the beautiful things He made for us to enjoy.  I still believe that there are WAY more good things in this world of ours than there are bad.  My dear friends, I hope you feel that way as well  :)  Please don't let anyone convince you otherwise!

upon how do we measure our self-worth?

It's soon to be time to call Rich the "rototiller guy" to head to my house and tear up the earth in the backyard in anticipation for the planting of a spring garden.  I've called on Rich to come to my house here on 14th Street for the past 5 years and I have never ceased to be amazed at how fast he can turn the ground into a well-tilled garden plot.  And oh did I mention, he's about as reasonable a guy as you can imagine in what he charges. He's not out to make a killing,  only a living and I admire that about him.


Even though the garden plot is being readied, it won't be planted and taken care of by me for a change.  For the past 7 years, I've spent my spring and summer months planting, taking care of and harvesting a garden that was always way too big for me.  You'd think that after so many planting seasons that I'd figure out just how much I'd need but that never seemed to be the case.  I always grew enough for my family plus anyone else who would take it.  But the 14th Street garden of 2012 will be tended and cared for by my nephew and his wife, Scott and Lisa Wright and their family.  


The seed catalogues started arriving in late-December and a steady stream of them have been delivered to my mailbox in the weeks since then.  Used to be that reading through the catalogues and daydreaming about what I'd be planting was my favorite winter time activity~but not this year.  The very first one to arrive,  from J. H. Shumway, at one time was the one I ordered the most seed from.  This year, it was the first to go to the recycle bin and every other one that came after it found its place there too.  I never even "cracked" one open to look inside.  For the first time in forever, I no longer had the desire to plant anything and that, my friends, was the strangest of feelings.  And you know, it wasn't because of "old lefty's" condition either....my heart is just not in it right now.


Back in the "old days" I used to measure my "self-worth" by how big of a garden I could put in each year.  If I didn't plant a dozen tomato plants, can 36 quarts of green beans, or have the biggest Vidalia onions every summer, then in my way of thinking I wasn't much of a gardener.  And as I stopped to think of it in those terms these past few days, I realized that I have spent much of my lifetime putting similar measuring sticks to Peggy Miller's "self-worth".


As a bicyclist, I had high expectations of myself.  I pushed hard to make sure that I rode at least 10 miles a day, day in and day out.   If the bike's computer didn't register an average speed of at least 12 mph, then I felt like a slacker.  Having to quit after only 234 miles on the Bike Across Kansas this past summer nearly killed me.  In my way of thinking, I hadn't set out to do what I wanted to do.  And on August 4th, 2011 the odometer only read 1,500 miles....500 miles short of my original goal for the season.  I found myself trying to figure out how, between "old lefty's" surgeries, I was going to make up the difference.  


My friends, have you ever found yourself doing the same thing?  Are you like me and realize that you are much harder on yourself than others could possibly ever be?  If so, we're all in good company.  I'm afraid that I don't even have a real good reason as to why it is so.  All I know is that for years now, I've spent way too much time trying to prove to myself that what ever I did was enough.  


Since there is now an open spot on the "Miller Bucket List" with the completion of the second set of swimming lessons, I now have a new item that is ready to fill in that empty spot....


"To learn to be more forgiving of myself and to no longer be my own worst enemy."


When you stop and think about it in those terms, it seems rather strange.  For the longest time in life, I never realized just how hard I was on myself.  Where others, friends and family, could forgive my shortcomings, I could not.  I think the turning point for me happened the night of the infamous peanut butter sandwich fiasco on August 7th, only three days after my accident.  The night that I let a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread get the better of me was my extreme wake up call that I had been taking my life way too seriously.  Since that point in time, I've begun to see where that kind of thinking takes me. 


By the way, lest you think that I will never attempt gardening again.....perhaps next season after "old lefty" has had more time to heal again and I've had the time to "dabble" in other things, then I will.  Spending two weeks travelling to Maine to see a lighthouse during a busy time in the gardening season is worth much more to me than watering and pulling weeds :)    I used to believe that kind of thinking would mean I was "lazy".  NOW I know what it really means.....I am worth it.


Have a beautiful day today, March 13, 2012 and I'm going to call it a great to be alive in!  

My friend, Dennis Ulrey's, "french fry" plants growing in my garden last summer.  

Some of the unexpected things that I've harvested from the garden over the past couple of years.  Every time that the garden gets tilled up, we can almost always find colorful bottles glass raise to the top.  60 years ago, long before the day of Stutzman Refuse Service, the people living here buried their trash in the back yard.  It's always like going on a treasure hunt!

Missing the things I'll leave behind~

Three weeks from today, my dining room table (the place where I always type my blog posts from) will be sitting in a different spot of the world~Valley Center, Sedgwick County, Ks.  Time that I thought would drag has actually flown by way too quickly.  As I begin to pack up my belongings and go through several years of collective memories, I have begun to think about what I will miss most about the city I have called "home" for the past 34 years, Hutchinson, Ks.


You know, I have to tell you that living in Hutchinson is actually an "ok" thing.  There have been a wealth of opportunities here for me and I would be very remiss if I didn't acknowledge some of them.  From my home here on 14th Street, I am just 5-10 minutes away from lots of cool places to visit and things to do.  The Kansas Cosmosphere and Discovery Center is easily within walking distance.  If you are a space buff then you really should check this out if you haven't already done so.  It was in the Cosmosphere's IMAX theatre that I saw the film "Speed" more times than I can remember to count.  Thinking that there's a chance that my idea for the bucket list item "to ride on a motorcycle very fast and live to tell about it" was conceived right there at the Cosmosphere.  Makes as much sense as anything else does.


If I head up north west to the 30th and K61 area, I can visit Dillon Nature Center, a beautiful and peaceful area filled with walking trails and all of nature you could ask for.  Over the years my 3 little ones, now very grown up ones, attended summer nature camps on a pretty regular basis.  I never tired of picking them up after the first day and hearing the tale of "Charlie the catfish", the "resident legend" of the ponds there.  In the fall, I  loved to ride my bike out there and hike among the trails.  The changing color of the trees' leaves was so beautiful, a sight to see.  It was there that I found my love for canoeing and I sure would hope to try that once again before I die...  LOL and we'll see how that ends up working out for me.


The Jim Martinez Bike Path from Carey Park to Rice Park,  Hutchinson Community College's beautiful campus, the underground walking tunnel at Hutchinson Hospital, The Kansas State Fairgrounds, the Underground Salt Museum, and Bogey's (if you don't know what that is...I do feel so very sorry for you, but if you visit Hutch it won't take you long to figure it out!) are all places that will hold some pretty fond memories for me.  Yet even more than the places, I believe I will miss the people~especially the children most of all.


I'll leave behind 3 of my siblings and their families but it's not like I am leaving the country or something... drop off the letter "r" because I'm just leaving the county! And now that I read that phrase, geesch sounds a little too much like my eulogy or something.  A lot of Scott family memories were made here in this house that will forever be known as "Grandma Scott's house".  Now it will be up to my family members from Sarasota, Florida to take up where I left off.  When I move out on March 31st, my sister Kaye and her family will move in.  The house will not have a whole lot of time to be lonely which makes me feel  much  better.  I was going to have to make sure that the curtains were drawn so I wouldn't see it crying when I drove away.  


Even though I'll still be making the Monday-Friday drive to my teaching job here at Lincoln Elementary, it will seem strange not to go into a Dillon's or WalMart somewhere and hear the shout of a kid somewhere saying "Hey, it's Mrs. Miller!"  I could always count on seeing at least one student that I knew from school no matter what day of the week it was at many of our local stores.  And you know what, I  kind of liked it!  :)


We have a lot of unique characters that live in our town...don't know their stories but have always wondered how life turned out for them as it did.  Respectfully, I speak of the guy I always referred to as the "can man" who 7 days a week you could see walking down Main Street with a load of aluminum cans on the back of a red wagon.  He was always headed towards Midwest Iron on South Main to cash them in.  Strange, but many times I would see him at just the right moment in my life...one of my first remembrances of God's whacking me upside the head and telling me "Girl, you don't have it so bad after all!"  Ashamedly, I admit right now that I never once stopped to see if he needed anything.  I have never once made eye contact with him even when I passed him on the side walk down town.  What on earth was my problem?  What could I have been so afraid of, that I never even gave him a hello or a smile?  I'm still learning a lot about myself in that respect.  And I pray to do better.  And friends, as the proverbial saying goes...."There but for the grace of God, go I."


I will leave here in 3 weeks with a lump in my throat, I  know that to be a fact.  I have lived in this county nearly all of my 56 years and there's no way to just walk away and forget where I've been, where I've come from.  But I've just got a feeling that something, a part of "the plan" awaits me in Valley Center and there's no way to find out without leaving HERE and going THERE.  


And to you, my friends, I say this....Even though I might be a little scared of the unknown ahead of me, I am still more determined than I would ever be afraid.  Good night everyone and have a great night's sleep ahead.  Peace always~

Dang it!  The ONE thing I cannot take with me when I move-my beloved clothesline.  It surely has served me well for the past 7 years, during all four seasons of the year.  Don't worry about me, I'll be fine :)  

It was a good time to say good bye

Today on Day #219 of the saga of "old lefty" I made the journey to the "land of miracles" for my weekly physical therapy appointment.  I've made countless trips to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center since August 4th of last year.  In fact, I've made so many trips there that I could well make the trip blindfolded, but hey promise you all THAT will never happen.


Today's visit was much like all of the others.  First stop, the "shake and bake machine" for 20 minutes of warm, 101 degree heat.  Oh how I have always loved that part of my visits.  Hard to describe it exactly but just imagine a nice little place where something akin to corn meal is blown around on the inside of a toasty warm box.  When I was in the "shake and bake machine" it seemed like all of my aches and pains from the various surgeries vanished.  I could move my left hand and forearm around as if it belonged to a 12-year old kid, the hurt was no more.  Then as I would move over to the therapist table it was easier to work with, all limbered up, kind of sort of.


And speaking of the therapist, well I guess I couldn't have asked for a better one.  Here we are today, literally "working my fingers to the bone".  Meet Kim Lockwood, just another one of the "miracle workers" that helped to restore "old lefty" back to its new semi-normal state.

I'll NEVER forget the day I first met Kim many months ago now.  I was in the second of my long arm casts with swollen, fat, black and blue fingers that could do absolutely almost nothing.  I was very discouraged and when Dr. Chan suggested I needed to get some physical therapy going, I can remember thinking, "For what?  Nothing works anyway!"  But Kim soon straightened out my #$@& poor attitude (sorry for the encrypted sailor talk) but it was what it was.


I surely never will forget, during my initial visit, some of the comments he made to me...and believe me they were not the kind that you wished to hear coming from your occupational therapists mouth:


*Upon seeing my first set of x-rays
"Holy Moly you really did a number on that wrist!"


*Upon being asked the question of how much physical therapy I would need
"Months"


*Upon describing the condition of the bone formerly known as "Peggy's intact radius"
"You pulverized it!"


*Upon seeing "old lefty's" very crooked little finger
"I'm going to try and manipulate it now."  (You're gonna WHAT?!)


At each appointment Kim would routinely measure the ability of the range of motion of my left hand and wrist.  He'd see how far I could bend my hand at the wrist in a palms up position, how far I could point my hand down with the wrist bent...and my very, very not favorite of all...how far I could turn my palm with my elbows tucked securely to my sides.  


Today we did all of those things as well as measure the strength in my hands.  "Old lefty" has a long, long way to go having scored a very low score of 18.  Comparing that number to the 55 that my right hand scored, it's easy to see that the accident has taken it's toll on my body.  Everything from my left shoulder down to my left hand was affected by the 8 months of recuperation I have went through.  It will be a long time before everything is even close to normal.  I used to think when the doctors told me it would take months to get over all of the injuries that they were referring to the number "2".  Now I know that when they at times mention "years" to me in respect to returning to normal that they aren't kidding~they really mean it.  


At the end of the appointment, Kim took some time to go back to the original x-rays that I had brought over on August 9th, 5 days after the accident.  He was quick to point out just how far I had come.  "Peggy", he began..."you were a train wreck.  It was awful."  In that x-ray I could see the external fixator device that Dr. Goin had implanted and the awful mess I had made of many of the bones of my left arm, wrist and hand.  Even with the "Red Green" hardware that now lies nestled inside of me, my x-rays STILL look better today than when I began this whole thing, long ago.


Then came the end of the appointment....literally.  Kim felt that I had come as far as I could with needing his assistance and any more occupational/physical therapy visits.  In other words, he was dismissing me from his care.  For just a moment in time, I had to stop and really think about what he was telling me.  When it finally sunk in, I don't think my spirit could have been any higher.  After 8 long and drawn out months, I had passed!  And I owe so much of the credit to Kim Lockwood.


As happy as I am to no longer need physical therapy visits, there was a touch of sadness in saying good bye.  You can't make weekly visits to physical therapy without becoming a bit attached to the wonderful people who provide you care.  That happened to me with Kim and his staff of therapists.  Although I have another 17 days to be released from Dr. Chan's care, being done with "official" physical therapy visits was at least a good place to start.


So Kim Lockwood, if you should read this blog post, I would want you to know how grateful I am for the wonderful care you gave me.  For all of the times I thought that you were pushing me too hard, I  know now you did what was best for me.  I don't believe that I will ever think of someone twisting my arm into the right position without remembering you, my taskmaster.  Said of course in a loving and kind way my friend.  There was a time early on that you suggested I save myself such long drives and find a therapist here in Hutch.  Well, I say to you that it was worth every mile I had to drive to be cared for in such a wonderful facility by a caring and kind staff.  For what ever "old lefty's" new normal shall be, I thank you for the part you played in its restoration."


Sincerely yours from me,


My name is Peggy  (shall never hear that again without thinking of you my friend...)

the "over my dead body" list-part 2

I've known for some time that I needed to start "travelling lightly" and with my anticipated move from Hutch to Valley Center in just a few short weeks, the need to do so has become even more apparent.  So room by room I have begun the process of weeding out what is no longer important to me and what I do want to keep for use in the future.  And of course, there's that infamous list of things that I must refer to as the "over my dead body" list~those things, perhaps only valuable to me, that I don't think I could ever part with.


Tonight I enlisted the help of my sister Kaye to wrap and pack up things from the china closets.  Over the years I've been a collector of many nice cut glass pieces, enough to fill almost 3 china cupboards.  But the weirdest thing happened to me as I found myself nearly half finished with the packing~I realized  that I had no real attachment to most of the pieces.  All that those beautiful pieces were doing was taking up space and getting dusty!   Oh don't get me wrong, there were 12 different items that I realized would be in my infamous "over my dead body" pile.  Other than that...the rest are just things I don't need any longer.  So why in the heck do I continue to keep them?  
  
As I systematically clean out each room and pack up the stuff I want, I can't help but think of my mom.  When she moved into a nursing home in 2003, I cleaned out her house (the place where I now live) in order to put it up on the market for sale.  I always had known that she kept a lot of things but didn't realize just HOW much until I started sorting through it.  


Because she was a child who grew up during the Great Depression, it was actually understandable to me why mom would keep empty jars, egg cartons, plastic tubs with their lids, rubber bands, and old greeting cards.  She lived by the motto "waste not, want not".  But as I continued the cleaning out project at her home here, I came across a most unusual collection of things.


Tucked safely inside an old hat box, I found over 50 obituaries clipped from the local newspaper.  They were laid inside the box as neatly as could be and as I read the names that belonged to them, I realized that Mom had been saving for many years the death notices of friends and family.  At first, I found it be a "geesch Mom!  What were you doing THIS for?" kind of moment.


But as I began to go through them, I came across the names of friends long gone now and I read with a renewed interest about their lives.  Sometimes she would make a little note at the bottom like "he was the cab driver" or "my good friend from high school".  As I read the notes scribbled onto those obituaries, I began to learn a great deal about my mom and the people that she counted dear and close to her.  


Mom asked very little about what I was doing with the things in our house.  She was happy for me to just decide who to give them to and know that they would be well cared for.  But when I told her about the obituaries, she asked me to bring them up to her so she could see them once again.  And so, one winter day in January, I headed to the nursing home with the box of obituaries in hand.  For the next hour, we poured over those names and dates and I listened to my mom tell me stories that I had never even heard of before.  And my friends, it was an hour well spent.  


Tonight as I was trying to decide where to start next, I ran across an old hat box in my room that had sat in the corner for a long, long time.  My dear friends, I already knew what was in that box, even before I opened it.  As I pulled the lid off, there they were...by my count 150 obituaries that I had cut out of the local newspaper over the past 7 years.  I had become my own mother and it was "ok".  


You see, after spending the time reminiscing with mom that weekend in January, I realized the value of remembering those near and dear to me.  My own box of "death notices" was dedicated to all of the many people that I've known who have passed on from this life into the next.  Many of them were folks that I've cared for in my job as a CNA.  Sadly, others were friends, students and family members.  


I took up mom's habit of writing a message on them....things like, "a former first grade student of mine", "used to be a teacher", or "a KU Jayhawk fan!"  When I had one box filled, I began with another.  And so, one day when I am gone from this place, my 3 children will have the opportunity to go through my box of obituaries and say to themselves, "Geesch Mom!  What were you thinking?" 


In the meantime, I'll continue to pack up my things because in 3 weeks more, there will be "new residents" in this house on East 14th Street.  Pretty soon, Kaye, Scott and Lisa, Chris, Danielle, and Kaylynn, and Anthony will call this place "home sweet home".  I can't imagine that my Mom would be any happier than to know that even though I'm moving away, another one of her "little girls" will soon be living here.  I won't be taking as many physical things as I have now, my heart will be stored with the hundreds of little memories I have made here.  Oh, by the way...do you know the nice thing about memories?  It's the "storing them in your heart" idea and just in case you might be wondering, my heart is very full!


Good night my friends and family.  God's blessings to all of you.

It's time for "her" to enjoy a life here.  So glad that she made it to Kansas safe and sound.  Now if I could only get her to not feel "frozen" all the time!  :)  I told her, "It gets better every day!"

to learn how to swim well enough to save my own life-part 3

Late last June and into mid-July, I worked hard towards the completion of the "Miller Bucket List" item, "to learn how to swim well enough to save my own life some day."  Panic stricken as I was about being in the water, I decided to accept the advice of a very good friend who told me that I really did need to know how to swim.  And oh, by the way....He meant it!


I dutifully went to the first group of four lessons and even though I was initially reluctant and half-scared out of my wits, it seemed to get better as each lesson went along.  By the end of the fourth lesson, I had surprised myself-TOTALLY!  I actually found the water wasn't so bad after all, in fact it was fun.  I learned a little bit about floating on my back and front, putting my face down in the water, and generally just finding out that the water could be my friend, not an enemy.


I had such a good experience that I decided, "what the heck?", and I signed up for another four lessons scheduled for the fall.  After my broken arm had healed enough between the surgeries, I went back to the Y to learn some more.  Just Friday, March 2nd, I finished up the last of the second set of lessons and the strangest thing happened....I found that I loved it so much that I made the decision to do another four lessons this summer. I DO NOT know what has gotten into me.  LOL


Without the encouragement of my dear friend who said to me, "learn to swim" and the anonymous friend who sent me the application in the first place, I would have never ventured to the local YMCA to sign up for the lessons.  But once I got to the Y, I would have never been as successful if it were not for the fact that this woman, shown below with me, would be my teacher.

This is my teacher, Laurie Carr, the aquatics director for our local branch of the YMCA here in Hutch. Here we are before entering the pool for the final lesson on Friday.  In my opinion, everyone should learn to swim from someone just like Laurie.  She was able to take a 55-year old "water phobic" woman (that'd be me) from the steps of the shallow "little kid's" end of the pool to the 4 1/2 foot area of the pool by the time she was done.  Hey, we even ventured over to the 5 foot area during one of the lessons.  As for me, I consider her to be a "miracle worker."  Wow, 2011 ended up being the "year of the miracle workers" as far as I can tell for me!


Laurie's got a special gift for teaching swimming.  She's patient, kind, soft-spoken, a "cheerleader" always.  I felt like Laurie let me "call the shots."  If I was uncomfortable doing something, if the water seemed to be overwhelming me..I could always say so and she would immediately back off.  Laurie has this way about her...always continuing to encourage me to try something but knowing just right before the time would come when I would be frightened.  I appreciated that about her.


I surely have come a long ways during those 8 lessons.  Man, I can remember after the first one having to come home and fill a dishpan full of water so I could practice blowing bubbles into it.  Goofy sounding I know but hey, it worked for me.  A couple of times during the summer sessions, I went to the pool with some younger friends of mine, Haddie and Ella, just so I could get used to the water.  Last but not least, my good friend from school, Lori Johnson who is a great swimmer herself, went with me to the pool, in the shallow end even, to help me get over my fear of the water.


I've said before that I've had many awakenings since my accident in August and one of those has been the realization of how one thing leads to another in the whole scheme of life.  When I first signed up for those lessons in June, "old lefty" was just normal, like always.  I was only signing up to learn how to swim well enough to save my own life someday.  And for all intents and purposes, that's what I expected to get out of it.  


Yet during the second set of lessons, I began to see how the water's healing powers could help "old lefty" on the road back to recovery.  The water's warmth always felt so good on the aching muscles and joints my left arm developed.  Laurie showed me exercises that would help me regain the range of motion in my left shoulder~a  body part not initially injured in my August accident.  8 months of inactivity took its toll on the shoulder and now, it too, has to be rehabilitated. 


Personally friends, I believe that everything that happened last summer, just like everything that will happen today, was all set in motion long before I knew it would be.  My life continues to be just a part of God's great plan for me.  I don't understand it and the truth is that I don't really care to understand it~I just accept it for what it is.  Never have seen any other way.


May God bless your day today my dear friends and may your lives be worked out according to the plan He has for you.  Don't try to understand it, just accept it.  It works out so much better in the long run.  We may not see it that way, especially on the tough days but it DOES always work out.


Happy Sunday, March 4th in the year 2012-one of the greatest days to be alive in that was ever made!   


  

Pushing my life's "reset button"

It is now fast approaching the spring of my 57th year and the events of the last 8 months since August 4th, 2011 have caused me to stop and think a lot about life these days.  Since the accident, my life has been the same as "paused" until "old lefty" could somehow manage to become strong and semi-normal once more.  Now the day is quickly coming when Dr. Chan will say to me, "That's it!  You're good to go!" and when that happens, I'm sure my first thought will be, "Great, but where do I go from HERE?"


You know,  I've had many awakenings since the morning I took the "most expensive bicycle ride in the world".  I believe it to be true that if I would have been 25 years old rather than 55 when I went through this, that the overall impact of getting badly hurt might have been looked at quite differently.  


At 25, I might well have said, "Well this sucks! But I'll get over it and have plenty of time to get back to normal and do everything I want to in the future."  But 8 months out of the life of a now  56-year old woman puts it into a different perspective, one that soberly forces you to look at the brevity of your own time on this earth.  There are still so many things I wish to do~but the somber reality is this...I am much, much closer to the end of my life here than to its beginning.  And if there are things that are important for me to do and take care of, then I can't afford another 240-day chunk of life to be lost.  It's SO time for me to get a "move on."


You may have already heard me mention that my name is written in the soil of south central Kansas and friends that is very true!  I was born October 26, 1955 in Newton, Kansas. (Geesch, that just sent a chill down my spine...someday they'll be reading that about me in the obituary section of the Hutchinson News.  Don't worry, plan to be here at least a fairly good while yet :) 


Up until the third grade, I was raised in the sand hills of Harvey County, between Burrton and Halstead on the farm ground that was homesteaded by my Great-Great Grandmother Burch and her daughter and son-in-law, Elizabeth and Edgar Brown in 1871. They were good "Quaker folks" who had  traveled here all the way from London, England.   When I was 8, our family moved to a house in the country near Haven, Kansas and that's where I consider my real growing up years to have been spent.  And by the way, all of you "Havenites" that might be reading this, you are living in one of the finest places on earth, my hometown!


I married at 21 and my husband and I continued to live in the Reno County area.  When I was divorced 10 years later, I had no desire to leave and go else where because this was my home.  I remarried someone who also liked the area so I continued to stay here and raise my 3 children.  When my second husband and I divorced 17 years later, it seemed ridiculous to think of running away to anywhere else.  So here I stayed, and stayed, and stayed.  


My present home here in the heart of the city of Hutchinson was built in 1931, long before I was even a "twinkle in my daddy's eyes".  My parents bought the house in 1982 just a few short months before our dad passed away from lung cancer.  Mom continued to live there for the 25 years that followed and my own 3 children spent a great deal of time there as well in their growing up years.  Many happy memories were made in this house as it became a refuge for me from the troubles that life seemed to be dealing me.  


By the time 2005 rolled around, I was looking for a place to buy when Mom's old house came up for sale.  It only took a minute or two to decide it was a good place for me to be.  I bought it in April of 2005 and have been there ever since.  I must admit that I never would have imagined ever living here in my later years, the farthest thing from my mind.  But life changed, perhaps as yours has from time to time, and so here I am.


This house has been good for me, providing a place to find peace and quiet, to heal my wounded spirit.  I actually have done pretty well here, all things considered.  It hasn't been easy dealing with all of the problems that needed to be taken care of, especially as a single woman with absolutely no mechanical ability, but I made it.  I learned quickly that roofs need repair, sump pumps can quit working, and air conditioners may finally "give up the ghost".  Between friends and family helping to deal with issues of house maintenance  as well as all the people who make their living doing house repair, I managed to make it just fine.  I love this old house and in many ways I believe that the 7 years that I've lived here have restored my life, renewed my sad spirit, and given me lots of hope.


Having said all of that, friends I want you to know that it will soon be time for me to make a move in this life of mine.  It's one that won't really take me too far away, in fact my upcoming change of scenery is only a county from here.  (Hey, when I move, I REALLY move  LOL)  For at least the next year of my life, I will be living in the small Sedgwick County community of Valley Center, Kansas.  It's 40 miles from my home here in Hutch and still a reasonable and doable commute each day back and forth to my teaching job here at Lincoln Elementary.  Please don't worry about the drive, if that's already on your mind...and you are my friends, so I know that it is!  I plan to use that "on the road time" each day as the perfect chance to think about life, give my daily prayers and just have some joy with the peace and quiet.  I know it will be different, but my friends, I am ok with it.


It's a pretty big leap of faith for me and I'd be lying if I told you that I had no worries about how it will all work out.  But you know faith is about all we really have to hold onto most days.  For whatever reason, I still do believe that it's part of God's great plan for me and with that in mind, I'm choosing to go.  I hope and pray that my eyes are open to all it is that God must want me to see.  I'll  keep you "posted" my friends.  As in this venture, as with most everything else in my life these days, I am way more determined than I would ever be afraid.  

My mom and I on the day she came to say "good-bye" to her home.  I definitely hadn't figured to buy it myself the following year.  Just a part of "the plan."  






Probably one of my favorite quotes from the television show "Touched By An Angel"~
"How do people do it?  They get up every morning and start all over again.  It takes a lot of courage to do that...and they don't even know what angels know."