11 That night the Lord stood near him and said, “Take courage!”

Acts 23:11

She stood at the top of a very long winding staircase. It was dark at the far away bottom. She’s shivered with fear. It was far too dark. Far too long. How could she ever manage it?

She turned to go back into the lengthening shadows of evening and was surprised to see her companion standing beside her. He took her hand as He took His first step down the long winding path of the stairway. “Come,” He said gently, “you need not walk this path alone. I will come with you.” “Lean on Me. I will give you My courage for the journey and you will be all right. I promise.”

He said this as she,too, took her first step into the darkness of her fear.

Anne

February, 2021

“Such a heavy heart”, I thought to myself this morning. I have heard people say that before, probably said it myself. I get it now, both figuratively and literally. It is an euphemism to describe grief but it is also a physical feeling.

I have been hesitant to talk about it, being a nurse, I know my nurse friends would send me right to the ER but it’s not that kind of chest heaviness. It is a sort of a pressure, a gripping, a constriction; the kind that comes, in part, from my unwitting breath holding, though breathing doesn’t seem to lessen it. It makes me feel like I want to explode but, at the same time, it prevents it.

Perhaps it is the body’s way of clamping down on the new gaping hole in the center of my being; like a uterus clamps down right after birth to control the hemorrhage. There’s no break from it, no respite, no forgetting. I imagine it will be my near constant companion until this process is complete in me.

But, you know what? Something about it is right, fitting, as it should be, despite the aching pain of it all.

In fact, a part of me is okay with it because somewhere inside me, I know that:

“We will never be the same as we were before this loss but we are ever so much better for having had something so great to lose.”

~Leigh~

Indeed,

Anne

February 21, 2021

When presented with a new accessory, it is important to follow a few simple rules before claiming it as your own…

It may be helpful to try it on; to drape it across your shoulders and look in the mirror; side to side, back to the front, see how it fits. Ask some questions, is it too big, too small, too light, too heavy, too young, too old for you? Does it drown out your other features? Does it accentuate the positives while diminishing your negatives? Is it easy to wear or is it too bulky and cumbersome? And, perhaps, most importantly, how does wearing it make you feel? Beautiful, Old, vibrant, Happy, exotic, forlorn? If it doesn’t feel right, put it back.

During a recent acquisition, I applied these rules. I tried on my new accessory and carefully considered all of that. In the end, however, it did not feel right. It felt so tangled, heavy, awkward, suffocating even; much too old for me so I decided to give it back.

I found, however, that there were no tag backs, no returns, no refunds. In fact, I even realized that it had been becoming a part of me before I even noticed. This new accessory was mine whether I wanted it or not. 

So today, I will wear it for all the world to see even if the truth feels like I am a small child wearing grown-up clothes that trip and boggle me.

I will wear it because I know that sharing it is the only way to make the beauty of all that caused it, to rise above the tangle.

I will wear it because it will make me brave as I walk alongside those who love me.

Anne

Living you forever and ever, Amen.

February 9, 2021

No visible change for Philip but I believe that God is working under the surface of things. As Joseph said to his brothers in Genesis 50:20-21, paraphrased by me,

“Covid intended to harm me, but God intends it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. 21 So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children.”

All this to say I believe God is working behind the scenes. He is good. His plan is good. And He will accomplish good through this covid chapter of our lives. 

So come on, Philip, do your thing, God is accomplishing good in and through you. 

I look forward to the tales we will tell about the workings of God in all of us.

Anne

February 1, 2021

It’s a crisp, sunny, blue sky day full of promise. First baseball tournament of our year. Falcon Field plane traffic is steady above, dogs at my feet, we are safe in the embrace of our baseball family.
Field rules dictate one parent per player so bittersweetly I win that coin toss. No Philip to score the game today.
It is good to be back but so odd resuming life’s rhythm without Philip. A pervasive greyness tinges the bright day. My inner cheerleader is quiet. I am afraid that if left unguarded, my joy might spill over into the simmering uncertainty of deeper fear…

Farfegnugen! Enough of that, I am strong, surrounded, together so…
“Here we go 30, C4 is knocking, open the door! It’s Prime time!”

Anne
January 30, 2021

I didn’t sleep much last night, woke up early to greet the 35° day. The sun is bright and clear. There’s no wind. As I walk the dogs, I can see my breath and God’s glitter on the field. It’s a frosty day. It is also the first day, I feel more myself than I’ve felt all month.

As I lay in my bed I realized that I am braver when I am not left alone.

It feels like I am living the It’s a Wonderful Life movie. I’ve had such a drenching, sustained response to our great need. 

Like Clarence says,

 “Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”

It’s a Wonderful Life

But the thing is the hole created by Philip’s struggle, for me, has been filled to overflowing by people from all parts of my life as far back as my childhood. It has been as wonder-full and life affirming as the scene where Mary pushes everything off the table to make room for the outpouring of unexpected gratitude and kindness on its way. She says, paraphrased by me, 

 “We just had to say that Philip was in trouble and everyone came out.”

It is the truth of Psalms 91:11-12 in action:

“For God will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will lift you up.” 

Each one of you, in your own sweet way, have lifted me up so I can bear this difficult time. I am humbled by your generosity, words, and prayers and will be forever grateful that I was not alone at such a time as this. You’ve made a difference in this struggle by blessing us so completely.

Thank you! 

Anne
January 27,2021

Found this from January 12, 2021. I sent it to Philip and he sent it on but I thought I’d post it now. I wrote it about me but Philip felt like it was exactly how he was feeling back then. The Covid fog…

The Will-lessness of Illness

I’m not exactly depressed, more like will-less. No will to do anything. I feel bits of energy bubbling up but more of a curious observation than a will to use. I have lists of things in my mind that need doing but no need to actually do them.I sit out on my back porch listening to the birds, watching the pups play, feeling the cool air…things I once cherished…I try to muster an opinion of anything.

When that charge nurse’s first contact was to reprimand me, something broke inside. I cried hard but then it was all replaced by nothing. I slept for the following two days more or less, off the grid. The world simply goes on whether I’m involved or not. Whether I respond to their cries for help or don’t. It seemingly makes no difference at all to me what my response is.

People ask me what they can do to help. I have no answer. Of course, there are lots of things that could be done if life were regular. I sometimes list them in my mind. Sort of weighing out their importance to life moving forward. None of them are important. None crucial. None possible when you are covid positive. All just niceties I used to increase my own comfort in life. Clean house. Haircut. shower. Comfort Groceries and treats…

Without taste or smell, or will none of it matters, if it ever truly did. I asked a couple people to bring groceries because people want to be useful and kind, want to be valued and I want to value them. (Well, that’s a will-ish sort of thing to say). It’s that which perhaps I miss the most. Having my life feel valued by me and so at times, very few times these days, I seek to give value to others, knowing how important it once was to me. But really how does one do that without attachment to one’s own will?

But I guess what I really need aren’t really things. I need someone to parent Joe, to be kind and skilled to Philip, to motivate Thomas, to befriend Sam, to encourage and cover David and Peter with kindness and love. ‘Things’ I, maybe, did once…don’t know if I quite remember…

Well now, I put my feet down and find my faithful pup there and, at last, I muster a response. Maybe my will is still somewhere inside there buried under layers of headache, nausea, fatigue and…remorse is it?

I am valued by God (dog spelled backwards) because He made me a human BEING, not a human doing. blah, blah, blah.. Nonetheless, I will do (lol) well to remember that until my will to do comes back…or not.

From what I hear, it takes a bit of time to come back from this… I wonder which bit of timing I’m in…Lost in the haze of covid,

Anne

January 12, 2021

I went out to the VA today where Philip works. I wanted to deliver a card to update them and give them my number if they wanted to be updated more. I was greeted at the entrance by a nurse, Rebecca. She immediately knew who I was by sight. She told me Philip calls her “Stick” and said she has been praying. She will get the card to his team and she will tell her boss about the W-2.

Words cannot really express how deeply comforting it is to be known. How grateful I feel that she knew my name, such a simple blessing but so sustainingly precious.

ICU nurse, Erica, tells me they are weaning the sedation to see how Philip does with the Intubation. They are watching his lab work closely and he is comfortable. All his ICU nurses have been courage givers with their gentle kindnesses and willingness to care for us both. I am so grateful.

Anne

January 25, 2021

Winter, it seems, has come to Arizona. I find I need a coat, a hat and earmuffs in the crisp wind. As I walk my pups, Zegan’s one ear is blown up by the wind as he smiles his way through the smells. The pups find it invigorating and if I’m truthful so do I.

Now that I have been released from my constant fear, my mind turns to more practical things like taxes. It’s funny how you just don’t talk about some things. Like how do I get his W-2 form from the VA when he usually prints it out? How do I get hold of his staff at the VA to tell them why he is silent? Those contacts are in his phone… I guess it is always a bit inconceivable that you might lose each other.

Nonetheless, taxes seemed doable today but now that I say these things out loud perhaps I’ll just watch my dogs frolic in the blustery wind instead.

Anne

January 25, 2022: early morning

Yesterday, I had been dreading the intubation possibility but once it had occurred, I became sort of silent inside. Fear subsided. Little energy for that anymore as the deep achiness of fear drenched days were replaced by fatigue, I thought.

But I realized today, much to my own surprise, that I am not silent inside but rather calm instead. Though I feared and dreaded intubation, Philip can rest now. He remains intubated and sedated but no longer paralyzed. He is resting easily and somehow so am I.

Anne

January 23, 2021