vintageDandelion: February 2014

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

To Rant or To Rave

I was all set to rant about insurance companies. Not all companies, but my insurance company to be specific. I was ready to complain about my frustrations in not getting answers and having lives put on hold (both literally and on the phone) while figuring out the next step.

But…

But, instead I am going to rave. Not about my insurance company (we are still on-hold there), but about my daughter-in-law. Can I just call her my daughter? I really don't like the "in-law" part; it's too formal.
She stopped by today for lunch. She let me rant a little, unload a little and then she was able to make a phone call for me…and actually get a person on the other end…yeah, she's awesome.

Sometimes all it takes is someone with a listening ear and a heart to understand. It is crazy sometimes how alike we are. Scary. And nice. If she needs to vent, I hope I can be the same for her. Eating lunch together is a fringe benefit. Roasted spaghetti squash with tomatoes, black beans, spinach, ground turkey and feta cheese. Season as desired. Mmmmmm.

If life were always this simple…

But…

But, it's not. I do get frustrated. I find myself speaking louder and louder, with every word feeling like it is punctuated with a @#!%! I don't know why I let stuff get to me. Why things like malfunctioning mouse pads, misplaced receipts, a late notice, snowy roads, passport worries, and my weight bother me so much is beyond me. In the big scheme of life, it's all rather insignificant really. And who am I trusting here? Myself?
No wonder I get so frustrated.

Stop trusting in mere humans, who have but a breath in their nostrils. Why hold them in esteem? ~Isaiah 2:22 (NIV)

"Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." ~James 4:14 (NIV)

I worry, I fret, I rant. I waste a lot of energy doing this. My mist is getting thin.
Sitting back, carefree and doing nothing isn't the solution either, but taking steps to solve a problem, to tackle a worry head-on, to seek advice or ask for help, now that's taking the breath we've been given and putting it to good use.

A mist is here for such a short time really, I'd rather not waste it.

"Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life." ~1 Timothy 6:17-19

The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

Love,
Dianne

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Working Nights

This week I had to work a daylight shift. I know that many, many people prefer this early morning ritual and are not happy when a night shift is assigned to their schedule. However, I am not one of those; I am the opposite. Weird, I know.

When I saw 7A in a somewhat faded copy of the schedule, my first thought was "Ah, my spectacles need cleaned." I cleaned them, looked at the schedule again, and there it was. 7A. Ewwww.

Reason #1 to not like dayshift: I don't like to get up early and 4:30am is beyond ridiculous.
Example: The night before a dayshift, I don't sleep well. I worry about getting up on-time and I am wired to be night-shift. So, I set two alarm clocks for two different times and hoped that at least one would wake me up. But then, I couldn't get to sleep. I had good intentions, but it was 12:30am before I really started to be tired. I guess three hours of sleep is better than none. Guess when I was finally in a good sleep pattern? 4:25am. Not even the cows are awake then. Or roosters for that matter. It's just not natural I tell you.

Reason #2 to not like dayshift: The roads are usually worse, if the weather is bad.
Example: The dreaded 7A morning arrived and I was up (by a miracle: see Reason #1) and ready to go by 0520. (It takes me a good hour to get to work and that's why I get up and leave so early.) I went outside and it was raining. Okay. I can deal with rain. The thermometer in my car read 23 degrees. I frowned, but tested the road once I got off the driveway and it seemed to be okay. Deciding to take my time, I pointed my nose North and headed to work. Eight miles from my house, I could feel my traction abandoning me and my car. Rounding a corner, there was a wreck, not a bad one but one that blocked the way with no real alternative to getting around it. I sat. I waited. I called work to say I would be late. After sitting for 75 minutes, we were given the go-ahead and I was headed North once again. I figured this was a sign: I am not meant to be a daylight person.

Reason #3 to not like dayshift: It's not my normal and when I work it, I feel like a rabbit in a tree.
Example: When I work 7p, I know when I like to do vital signs, what time to feed the babies, and so on. Put me on daylight, and it all feels wrong. Then, even worse, it threw me off kilter for the next night I worked. I had my dates all wrong. I was scatterbrained. I would go to do something and forget what it was. Not good. Just keep me in my element. I am sure my coworkers would agree. They feel the same way about night shift that I do about days.

Of course, if I did all daylight shift, I might feel different. My internal clock would reset itself. I wouldn't have to drive home sleepy all the time. My metabolism might just come alive again. But 4:30am? Ewwwww. How about 8:00am? I could do that.

But then again, as long as there are hospitals and there are sick people that need care, somebody has to be awake in the wee hours of the night. Why not me? I generally can sleep during the day and I really do prefer the quiet nights. Something about sleeping babies at night is just sweet. For now though, if this is where I am meant to be, I'll do the nights. Not because I truly love them all that much, but because I can tolerate them, and if this week is any indication, mixing my days and nights is a recipe for disaster. I was really starting to wonder if dementia has a sudden onset and if I was it's next victim.

Oh, if by any chance any of you are nearby the hospital at about 0400, please feel free to drop by with Starbucks Coffee. The Night-Shifters would salute you. You would be my hero.

Love,
Dianne

Monday, February 17, 2014

In the Words of Alfred Lord Tennyson

Grief and love. This week has been a week filled with both, which is appropriate really, since they go hand-in-hand. Without love, would there be a reason to grieve? We have all either read books or watched movies in which this cycle of love and grief occur. The resulting lesson is usually along the lines of this"

"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Alfred Lord Tennyson

This week, a man with many roles, many titles, was laid to rest. The grief that we shared as a family was as varied as the large group know as Pap's "freindshaft" is. From being very open with emotion to being very private, we covered all the bases and then some. There was no right or wrong in how grief was, and is, expressed. From openly crying to remembering funny stories, to joking around with each other, it was all okay.

For me, I tend to cry privately (and at the oddest times!); when in public I am more likely to join in the story-telling or joking around with the Maust brothers as only they can. (I always did like their sense of humor.) Not that I wasn't sad this week, but along with the feeling of loss there is also joy. Joy because Pap is reunited with his one true love, his parents, his daughter, his grandson, his brothers. The reunion on the other side just keeps getting bigger and better. I find sweetness in that.

Evident this week, alongside grief, was much love. An outpouring of love was shown in the abundance of food that people brought, the cards, and the offers of "if you need anything, just let me know". At work, my coworkers covered my 12 hour night shifts without question. This was love (or insanity) because I know how much they all love those night shifts. People at church helped with the large fellowship meal, cleared a lot of snow from parking lots, watched the younger Maust generation in the nursery and cleaned up afterwards. All of it made the process a little easier.

Then came Valentine's Day. More love. I decided again that love is more than romance, candy and flowers; itt's in serving one another. Listening to one another. Just spending time to be together. All of this was in crazy abundance this week. Pap and Mom were like that, at least in the years I knew them, and it gives us a legacy to continue building upon. It may have been a little easier to do that this week, but I rather hope the trend continues.

Unless we make the effort to stay in touch, to say "I love you" at the end of a phone call, to send a Facebook message just to say "hi", to take food to someone who needs it, to pick up the shift that needs covered, to send the card that says, "Thinking of you.", or countless other ways, then what really, is the point? When someone said, "love is a verb" they weren't kidding. And with that, "to grieve" is also a verb.

It's hard, this business of love and grief. But it can be good too. Embrace it. Embrace the tears when they come, when the feelings of loss become overwhelming. Embrace the laughter that comes with just one more Pap-story. It really is better to have loved in this lifetime; this I know to be true.

Love,
Dianne

Sunday, February 9, 2014

There is Only One Pap

"You're either going to learn to love me or hate me."

Imagine a 15-year old girl sitting on a chair in a farmhouse dining room. Now, imagine a father, a mother and a few siblings around the table eating Sunday dinner while this 15-year old watched and waited for her date to get back downstairs after changing his clothes. She was nervous and didn't know what to say. Then the father, better know as "Pap", in-between bites of slightly burnt corn, turns to her and speaks the words she'd never forget.

"You're either going to learn to love me or hate me."

Where oh where was Leo? And why was it taking him so long to change his clothes? And why was I sitting here? And what on earth did this man called Pap mean by that? After all, I didn't even know him yet.

That was March 1986. The Maple Festival Antique Car Show was the event and our date. I don't remember too much of what I saw that day, but I remember that one moment with Pap very clearly. I didn't know during these first weeks of dating Leo that I would someday marry him, but I wonder if Pap didn't somehow know I'd be around for a while. Maybe it was a farmer thing. Or not.

Pap knew I was young but he never told me that I was too young. He accepted me just as I was. He never cautioned me to not hurt Leo, to not break his heart, but I found out much later that he did caution Leo, as they drove in the pickup together down the lane, to "take care of her; she's really young." I like that this man, who didn't always have a lot to say, who didn't "preach" at us often, could say one thing and be taken seriously and his advice heeded.

Not that he was a perfect man, a perfect father, or a perfect husband, but he lived what he believed to the best that he could. He gave an example to follow. I see it in my husband, my brother and sister-in-laws. And yes, my mother-in-law had a lot to do with that too. After all, who do you think kept Pap straight?

Over the past 28 years, I have grown to appreciate Pap. He may not have prayed aloud, but he lived loud. He may not have said "I love you", but he loved his children, all 13 of them and showed it in action rather than words. He accepted and loved the outlaws, made in-laws. He loved and maybe even spoiled a little, his grandchildren, all 39 of them. He was proud of and loved all 21 great-grandchildren, rejoicing in each new one that added to the masses. The final count? 100 of us. That's a lot of love.

Speaking of love….

"You'll either learn to love me or hate me."

Well Pap, I can't say that I've always agreed with you and I may have had moments of frustration with a decision (or lack of decision). I may not have always seen the world the same way you did or agreed with all the same views, but we both served the same God and lived out our faith. Yes, I did learn to love you and really, it didn't take too much effort.

You will be missed. No one else laughs to the Bumblebee song the way you did. No one knows cows like you, and sorry, but those cow shows are still on the boring side to me. No one else gave horse-and-cart rides like you either. And when it comes down to it, there will just never be another "Pap" quite like you. It has been a privilege.