I am looking at the calendar this morning and thinking to myself, as usual, "Where in the world does time go?" It's a question most all of us ponder from "time to time" and with no pun intended there, it's a valid one to be asking. We wake up of the morning, taking for granted the very act of arising from a night's rest and head out the door each and every day. For most of us, our daily routine goes along as planned and when night falls we just go back to bed in anticipation of starting the following day anew. Yet for some, today will be their last one and life as the rest of the world will know it continues on.
Six years ago on the 12th of November, 2007 life ended for a wonderful man, my brother Mike Scott. He was young, at least by my standards, having not even reached his 63rd birthday before he passed. The ravages of ALS/Lou Gehrig's disease took their toll quickly on him, with very little time between the diagnosis of what he was ill with and the time he took his last breath in the early morning hours of that day in November. I guess it is true to say that thankfully he didn't have to suffer with it for long. Since his death I have read many stories of folks who have had to linger on for many more months and years than Mike had to. It is not a fun existence but rather a fight for every breath you must take. For the blessing of a quick passing, I give thanks to God.
It has only been in the time that has passed since his death in 2007, that I have fully realized the lessons that my brother's illness taught me, his younger (by 10 years) sister. As I look at it, the unfolding of those lessons learned has come to me at just the right moment in time. They arrived at precisely when I needed to learn them and I recognize them for the gifts that they surely are. My brother is still my teacher and I like to remember him in that way. From Heaven above, I believe he looks down upon me and sends encouragement at times when it is needed the very most.
A strange lesson that I learned from my brother's death and the passing of my mom 6 weeks earlier in 2007, was the desire and drive to capture in a pictorial way the "every day" life we all enjoy. People who know me or see my page on Facebook will attest to the fact that I take a lot of photos each and every day. It is seldom that my camera is far from my side and if I don't have my regular camera, then I'm always grateful for the one on my cell phone. I choose to remember each and every day I've been gifted in this life by the God who made me and sustains me all the time. From deer herds to kids at school, from sunrises and sunsets, from me looking my worst to me looking slightly better (lol) I've taken a lot of pictures. Did you know that there is beauty in a clothesline full of clothes drying in the great outdoors? There is if you remember what a blessing it is to be able to do that in the first place. My brother and my parents are no longer here to be included in the visual diary of my life here on earth and I miss that part very much. Yet even as they are gone, I still strive to capture what remains here for me and as I look back on the hundreds and thousands of pictures that I've taken since 2007, I have absolutely no regrets.
Just this morning, actually about an hour ago, my brother taught me yet another thing and this one was a lesson in vanity. I have this stupid crown on one of my front side teeth that just absolutely won't stay put. Three times this year it has fallen off, most recently last evening. It's not a "look" that I like. It's one thing to be 8 years old and lose a front tooth and quite another to be a 58-year old and lose one. I got some "repair" material from the local pharmacy and actually cemented it in on a temporary basis until I can get to the dentist tomorrow here in Montrose. All night long, I tossed and turned afraid of losing it in my sleep by either swallowing it or spitting it out from "here to tomorrow". When I woke this morning it was still where I put it last night and for that I was grateful. But what about if it falls out again today and I can't get it back in before I see someone tomorrow about it? What then? Then I turned on my computer and saw a photo of my brother on Facebook, one when he was in the hospital a few days before he passed at his home in Haven, Kansas. A reminder of what I should be thankful for, that's what that picture ended up being.
During the last weeks of his life, ALS had overtaken his body enough that his breathing became very compromised. The very act of taking a breath, can you imagine it? How many times have you and I involuntarily breathed in and out during the last 5 minutes? More than we can imagine. Of necessity, the doctors knew that Mike needed to be on a ventilator as breathing on his own was now out of the question. As I saw the photo there of my brother still smiling at the camera even though he was getting his respirations in an artificial manner, it sure gave me pause to think. Mike would have been glad that his only real problem in life would be a loose front crown on a tooth. He could have lived with that, literally. And if he could have been "ok" with that, then what about me? Will I survive until I get to the dentist? Probably so and thinking about it, I'm pretty sure that Peggy Renfro's death certificate will never read, "She died of embarrassment when her front crown fell off." Thanks brother, I needed it.
Well, the morning time is beginning to make its arrival on the horizon now and it's time to get the day going. Please go out and make it a great day for yourselves, enjoy it on behalf of my brother. He'd have been glad for you to do just that. Mike Scott was just that kind of guy. November 10th, 2013 is a beautiful day to be alive in so get out there and accept it for the real gift that it is.
See you in Kansas everyone in just 17 sleeps more. Many reasons to be thankful this year!
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