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Active Ageing coping Humor Uncategorized

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

An Undeniable Fact of Life
I’ve come screaming up to my 72nd birthday and yes, screaming is the right word to describe it – kicking and screaming would be more accurate.
What I’d like to know is: how did this happen so fast? It was only a short while ago, it seems, that I was longing for my 16th birthday, living for my driver’s license. Then, in the blink of an eye, I was out in the real world, making a living (of sorts) and longing to find a forever love.
Finding my forever love and getting on with my grown-up life was exciting, thrilling even…then I couldn’t wait to become a mommy. Well, that period, though slow in the day-to-day, sped by in another blink, maybe two. Surviving my sons’ teens was a rollercoaster ride, but that quickly passed.
When the grandchildren came along, I felt I had died and gone to heaven. But they, too, are moving through life far too quickly for my liking. And now, here we are, the oldest grandchild turning 16 and living for his driver’s license…and I am 72!
I wake up in the morning with a sore thumb; the joint in my thumb throbs if I try to do anything with it – pull open a drawer, pick up a spoon, push a button. What is that all about?
The thumb pain dissolves, only to be replaced by an excruciating knee pain when I walk the dog. That goes away too, replaced by a throbbing toe…neck, finger, arm, shoulder, eye…take your pick, it’s a merry-go-round of afflicted limbs. Why? I exercise, I eat properly (most of the time), I keep my weight down, so as not to burden my joints and add to their pain.
It’s just ageing, plain and simple. But I refuse to take it lying down, I will fight it to my dying day. And, by fighting, I’m not talking about trying to look younger. I stopped colouring my hair years ago because a blonde, with more wrinkles than hairs on her head looks a little scary. I won’t pay money for plastic surgery; do they still call it that? Oh, it’s cosmetic surgery, as if that makes all the difference. But I will continue to walk everywhere around town, ride my bike to the post office and the library and down to the park along the waterfront. I will go to line dancing and act in Murder Mysteries, read my book club books and keep my writing group together and write and write and write.
I will work hard to show my grandchildren that ageing, though an undeniable fact of life, is not something to be dreaded or feared. It’s a fun time of life and the busier you are, the less time you will have to dwell on the aches and the pains.
And, speaking of the grandchildren, they are the future. Let us not bring them down with negativity, there is so much of it in the world, but let us lift them up, give them hope and promise of a bright future. And when, in the blink of an eye, they are staring 72 in the face, may they laugh, hop on their bikes and ride on without fear. Perhaps, by the time they’ve reached this age, old age pain will be eliminated. One can only hope.

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Bargaining Catholic God Humor Prayer

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Pushing the Limit

Driving along the highway in my little yellow bug, I find I’m always pushing the limit – the speed limit, that is.  If it’s 50 k/h, I bump it up to 60.  If it’s 60 k/h, I take it to 70.  80, to me, means keep it under 100.  Driving along recently, in my meditative state, I thought about how we push the limit in so many ways.  The quick check-out at the grocery store – ‘no more than 12 items’ – we sneak through with 15…or more.  ‘No trespassing!’  ‘Do not walk on the grass!’  If we’re not actually breaking, we’re at least bending the rules more often than not.  Even in the ways we pray and talk to God – we push.

In prayer, it seems, we are always bargaining, but God must be used to that. Look at the way God and Abraham haggled over Sodom.  Being fed up with the sinfulness of the place, God planned to destroy it.  Abraham dared to argue with the Lord  – “But what if there are 50 just people to be found there?  Would you wipe them away too, along with the wicked?” 

“Well, no,” says God, “for the sake of the fifty, I would not destroy the city.”  Abraham wears God down with his haggling and God, walking away (and throwing up his hands, no doubt) agrees to spare Sodom if he finds 10 just people living there.  I have always loved this bible story.  Now I know that Abraham was quite new to monotheistic worship – you know, one Deity as opposed to the many gods he had previously worshipped.  And we, on the other hand, are not.  Still, this reading tells us that God was (and still is) approachable.  And isn’t that good news? 

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coping Faith family God Humor love Patience

Knocking on Heaven’s door

Lessons Learned

I am my mother’s daughter. My family will sometimes call me T. Way, when I sound or act like my father – worrying about everything. But I am very much like my mother too. She had numerous admirable qualities, making the raising of seven children appear effortless. Unfortunately, those qualities I did not inherit.

If you were sick, in a household of nine, on a busy school morning, you got short shrift. Mother didn’t spend a lot of time fussing over you. In later years, when she got cancer, most of her friends didn’t know. Never knew about the weeks and weeks of radiation treatments. She continued going to meetings and offering to help on various committees. My sister Patti was truly mother’s daughter, working fulltime through her cancer treatments up until the last few months before she died.

These women taught me that sickness is not something to be pitied or rued. So what am I supposed to do with a man cold? Seriously, I grew up in an unsympathetic household in which sickness was no big deal. So, when my sweet, affable husband turns into a different being entirely, how am I supposed to react? It has always mystified me, for we have been here many times before.

All the day long, never stirring from the bed, then thrashing the sheets and blankets off at 3:00 in the morning, turning on lights, coughing and hacking his way to the bathroom, coming back and falling into bed, wheezing with ragged breaths, too exhausted to care or notice that all the lights have been left on. I get up, rearrange the sheets and blankets, and turn out the lights. Is this done in saintly fashion? Heavens no! It’s more than mild annoyance that propels me out of bed to set things straight. Then I lie there at 3:00 in the morning – wide awake and fuming.

What’s the lesson here? I know there’s a lesson to be learned. I know God is smiling, trying so hard not to laugh – at me…at us. My silent annoyance begins to fade and I too smile. One thing God has blessed me with and for which I am eternally grateful, is a healthy sense of humor. It has carried me through 40-plus years of marriage – and marriage, as we all know, can try the patience of a saint. Though, what saints have and what I sorely lack is patience. God tests me on this attribute (or lack thereof) often. It’s a daily struggle for me, though it is often an easier hurdle to overcome at any other time of the day.3:00 in the morning is really pushing it!

But, let’s look on the bright side – 3:00 am is an ideal time to have a chat with God, who will always calm us down and set us back on the right path. (And that path for me, to the relief of many, has never included a career in nursing.)

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Catholic Faith family God Humor

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Travel Light?                     

A Gospel reading recently told us of Jesus sending out the Twelve, ‘Take nothing for your journey,’ he said, ‘no staff, no bag, nor bread, nor money – not even an extra tunic.’ These words made me cringe.

My husband and I went on a little camping trip in September, hauling our tiny trailer…and so much stuff! We had clothing for every type of weather, hiking boots, running shoes and sandals. We had food for two weeks when we were only gone one. We brought books, journals, meditations and daily readings (ok, those were important and used). At the last minute my husband put his guitar in the back seat of the car…it never came out of the case.

We laughed when we’d see enormous motorhomes lumbering along the road, hauling their SUVs behind. ‘Oh, they’re really roughing it,’ we’d say with a sarcastic laugh – but were we any different? No.

Away from the distractions of home, we talked of future plans, and our desire to sell our house was reignited. Where we had recently been dragging our feet, upon our return home we jumped right in and began the frightening process of preparing our house for sale. Talk about stuff! Anyone who has resided in one place for 30 years knows what I’m talking about.

How and why do we accumulate more than we need; more than we could possibly use in a lifetime? We’ve been donating like mad, so many trips to the second hand stores…so many trips to the dump…and so much still to hide and store!

Our house is now ‘staged’ for sale – not practical, not comfortable, but staged – to give the feeling of beauty and spaciousness. I have to admit I love the uncluttered feel of it.

‘When we move, let’s keep it simple in our new home,’ I tell my husband. He readily agrees…but will we? It’s difficult to change habits of decades, but in our daily lives; in our spiritual practices too, it helps to clean out the cobwebs (figuratively as well as literally) more regularly than we actually do. The trick is to keep the cobwebs from reappearing; keep the clutter out of our houses…our minds and our hearts as well – not staged for show, but transformed with a greater understanding of what’s important to God…and where he is leading us.                                   

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Bargaining coping Faith family God Humor Listening Patience Prayer

Can We Talk?

When I first learned this year’s hunt would not be taking place up north, but practically in our own backyard – I headed to a quiet place to pray. I tried to erase those thoughts of many years ago; the last time the hunt took place down here; the time when it rained solidly for a week and I would come home to find damp, smelly camo gear spread throughout the downstairs. I tried to blot out those 5:00 o’clock mornings – feet stomping, chairs scraping across the kitchen floor, my husband ‘creeping’ back into the bedroom wielding a flashlight, whispering, ‘Go back to sleep,’ then turning on the overhead light to find what he was looking for. I tried not to think of the peaceful simplicity of that brief respite I enjoyed when the hunt took place up north. Why couldn’t they go up north this year? I pleaded to God in prayer. Your husband is getting older, he said, camping is cold and uncomfortable. Why can’t you be more tolerant?

Wow, that was unexpected. I had come to the Lord for sympathy, clearly he intended this to go a different way. I concluded a change in attitude was in order. My impatience, to which God is constantly drawing my attention, would need to checked at the door each and every morning. 

So, rather than try to sleep in, I got up at 5:00 with the hunters – my husband, son, and one other guy. I joined in the morning banter. I joined them at lunch on Monday, when I was home. I was cheery and encouraging. I swept up the mud they tracked in and cleaned up the kitchen – on Monday.

By Thursday, I confess, I was exhausted and when I came home from work to find a kitchen filled with dirty dishes, I was more than a tad annoyed. While I made dinner, I muttered things to God, hoping this time he’d be on my side. He was non-communicative.  That in itself sent a message. It stopped me in my tracks.

At dinner, in a calm and quiet voice, I asked if they continued to take a two hour lunch break, as they had on Monday. Both my husband and son nodded their heads, unaware. And no one had time to deal with all those dirty dishes? I was not angry, I was simply doing with them what God had done with me – he made me stop and think, I was trying to do the same for them, and they got it.

Communication with God and each other is vitally important in keeping peace. Both cases require us to pay attention and listen – to the words, but also to the silence. And at all times – pray. 

                                                  Margery Frisch

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coping Death Faith God Humor love Prayer Stength Trust

Who’s in Charge?

Last Saturday I was dusting the living room, when, on the table where the orchids stood, I found a card, just sitting there. It said, “Good Morning! This is God. I will be handling all your problems today. I will not need your help, so enjoy your day.”

I looked up, I looked around. I don’t know where the card came from or how it got there (my husband was on a camping trip with our son and grandson, so there was no one to ask), but the warmth I felt from reading that card, was indescribable.

I promptly set down my duster, sauntered into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. Basking in that warmth, I sipped my tea while reading a good book. In time I wandered back into the living room and looked around.

“Ah,” I said, looking heavenward, “my strong aversion to house-work is not one of those problems you were talking about. Deeper problems are more your concern. I get it.”

Still, those kind words had lifted me up and I did have that nice little respite with the cup of tea, so I was refreshed and ready to resume the task at hand.

How often do we forget who’s in charge? How often do we go through our days with lists of things we must do, people we must see, jobs we must complete, with no thought of God and what he has in mind for us?

Or, do you ever have this feeling? An overwhelming sense that you are doing God’s will. You get all puffed up with this thought, immersed in this sense of the Divine that you sit back, bringing your work to a standstill.  Well that’s not what God has in mind either. We may feel his commendation, his support, but he does expect us to get the work done.

The problems he offers to handle for us are the heavy ones, the burdens too heavy for us to carry alone. Over time, we begin to wonder how we can possibly get through – tragedies, illnesses, deaths of our loved ones…

“Good morning!” he says, “This is God. I will be handling all your problems today, I will not need your help, so enjoy your day.” If we sit in quiet contemplation, we will know this; we will know he is there, we will feel his presence. We don’t need a little card sitting on a table to remind us that God is always there for us. Still, a card from a loved one is always welcome, isn’t it? Enjoy your day.

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Faith family God Humor Listening love Mercy

Lessons Learned

I learned a valuable lesson on our recent holiday. No, it wasn’t that I should never trust Google Maps to tell me precisely how long it takes to get from point A to point B. I fall for that every time, and will probably continue to do so. And no, it wasn’t that I should give up fighting with my husband and the GPS when I think I know the right way to go. Where’s the fun in that?

No, the lesson I learned was a far greater one; a fault to which we all succumb, periodically, one we must continually guard against – judging.

We traveled to St. John, New Brunswick to attend the wedding of a young man I have refered to for decades as my ‘3rd’ son. We’ve known him since he and our oldest son were three years of age. Our son has been married for 13 years and has three children. My ‘3rd’ son has taken longer to find himself and longer still to find the one to share the rest of his life with. In his search, he has also ‘found God.’ Though we of strong Christian faith know God is never lost, for those who ‘find him,’ we can only rejoice.

I’ve kept up with my ‘3rd’ son’s progress in his faith on Facebook. Despite the teasing given him by many of his contemporaries, Devon has boldly displayed his joy and his faith on social media.

Frequently present in many of the postings, was the young minister who had helped Devon find his way. I didn’t like that guy. There was something about him I did not feel was sincere, and I worried for Devon that his faith would be built solely on this one person who might, at some point betray his trust. I told my sons who were astounded that I would be so judgmental of someone I had never met. I couldn’t help it. That was how I felt.

Well, don’t you just love God’s sense of humor? Can you guess who I found myself sitting beside at the reception? This young minister who had performed the wedding ceremony (he had done a beautiful job, I had to grudgingly admit). I was in the company of this man, his lovely wife and their two little girls. At first I was wishing to be any place but where I found myself. He immediately turned to me, introduced himself, his wife and his daughters and before the bride and groom cut the cake, I was smitten. This young minister had a love of life and an exuberance of faith that was indeed sincere. And the very act of meeting him taught me such a valuable lesson.

One of the problems with Facebook is how superficial much of it seems and is and it can skew our perceptions without our even being aware. I was quick to let my sons know how wrong my presumptions were and how wrong it is to make such baseless judgements. Though I may make many mistakes over and over again – like arguing with the GPS and planning an itinerary based on Google Maps determination of distance and time, I pray that God will continually bring my thoughts back to Devon’s wedding and the important lesson I learned there.

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Easter Faith God Humor love Mercy Patience Social Awareness Trust

Easter Hope

Again this Easter, our family gathered to celebrate, not only the glory of Easter Sunday, but four birthdays. It was a joyous day. As I cleaned, and baked, and prepared the house for guests…I grew weary. Wouldn’t it be nice, I thought, if one of my daughters-in-law offered to host Easter one time. But then, I told myself, when would you take such care with your spring cleaning? Would you look after these corners, these nooks and crannies where the spiders leave their webs? This is good for you, I told myself. Stop complaining.

It really is good for us to make that extra effort – to serve. Ever mindful of Lazarus’ sisters, I tried my hardest (this time) to be Mary and not Martha when everyone gathered. I wanted to be attentive to my guests, not worrying about the cooking and the smaller details. I think I’m getting better at it in my old age, I truly did enjoy this Easter celebration.

The grandchildren discovered the gold finches flocking to the bird feeders and suddenly, I found the three oldest ones standing in the yard, under the feeders, their arms outstretched, motionless as statues, birdseed in each hand. “For the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these…” I thought as I stood and watched them. I saw trust, hope, faith and love being demonstrated by their patient waiting, their outstretched arms. One gold finch did alight to snatch a seed from my granddaughter’s open hand, and that made the others ever hopeful.

After dinner, sitting at the table with our sons and daughters-in-law, we talked of world issues; I mentioned a book I had been reading throughout Lent, which urged the need to follow Jesus’ teaching on the Beatitudes. My one daughter-in-law, who had no religious upbringing, asked me what I was talking about. I quoted a bit from the Sermon on the Mount – blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God. We talked about the need to help the poor. “But why?” she said. “Why can’t they help themselves?”

My husband explained to her how many people have grown up without love, without direction, in an ongoing cycle of abuse and neglect – alcoholism and drugs…it’s difficult to pull one’s self out of that without help, he said. She had not looked at it in that way before. Her eyes were opened a bit on Easter Sunday. Her oldest child, her 11 year old son, sat quietly, listening and absorbing all that was being said. We are sowing seeds, I thought to myself.

I’ve mentioned before that our kids are not practicing Catholics, but they take part in these discussions. We just speak of real issues that call for compassion and love and we go on sowing the seeds.

Like the little children, we must continue to grow in trust, hope, faith and love – with much patience, and arms outstretched. Hoping 2

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Catholic coping Faith family Humor love Prayer

Once a Mother…

As a mother with young children, I would often ponder Mary, the Mother of God. Did she have days of exhaustion and frustration chasing after her toddler? When he hit the terrible 2s, how did she deal with that? If he was slightly defiant at 12, what was her son like as a teenager? ‘I don’t care if you are the son of God – you clean up this room!’ It often helped me to cope, picturing our Blessed Mother enduring the same trials of motherhood. I know, I know, hers was the incarnate son of God, but, as a teenager…it’s possible there were parental struggles. I clung to that, anyway.

One of my favorite stories of Mary, is that of the wedding feast, when she tells the steward to, ‘do whatever he tells you to do.’ I can almost picture Jesus rolling his eyes. “Mom.” He was a grown man and there was his mother, situated in the midst of his personal life. I have tried my best to avoid being obtrusive in my sons’ lives. But when situations arise whereupon a mother is sought, well, I’m like that obnoxious kid in class, arm waving frantically in the air – pick me, pick me!

A few weeks ago, I had my pre-Christmas weekend all planned – finishing up my Christmas projects and shopping. A call from my daughter-in-law changed all that. Now, granted, I was called because her mother is wintering in Mexico, but let’s not split hairs – I was called. I was needed.

It happened that my son was in the hospital (I hope I would have been called first, regardless of where her mother was, but I dare not assume). Thankfully, it was not a serious illness, though it was a debilitating one and he was hospitalized for two nights. As his wife flitted from hospital to home, I was the constant for my one year old grandson.

When your child is going through a difficult time, no matter his age, you worry. Again, picture our Blessed Mother and all that she had to endure, with all that Jesus had to endure. Ponder that when times are tough. As Jesus suffered, so did his Mother. It matters not, the age of our children – they are our children. When they are sick, when they are suffering, we suffer too.

One of the constants we as Catholics have in our lives, is Mary, the Mother of God – intercessor for us all. As our kids turn to us when they need help – let us then turn to our eternal Mother. Mary, Holy Mother of God, pray for us.

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coping God Humor Stength Trust

Don’t Give Up!

I have a t-shirt that boldly states: Running, cheaper than therapy – and it’s true. But one could also say the same about one’s faith. I read somewhere that people who have religion in their lives are happier people. The reasons, I believe, are two-fold: 1.) with faith in God, there’s no reason to despair; one always has hope, and 2.) we’re not in charge, and that takes the pressure off.

Now, I know, having said these things, this is not always the case – we do despair…and we do think we’re in charge a lot of the time. It’s a constant struggle to get it right. The point is, we persevere; we don’t give up.

I was out running with the dog on a recent Saturday morning. She loves to run…and she’s fast, I’m continually reigning her in. So, we were going along at a good pace, the leash was taut, then suddenly went slack. At the speed with which we were going…and for the dog to suddenly stop…the leash slackening and me sailing on full speed ahead, tripping over said leash – it was not a pretty sight. I hit the ground hard. Well, first I was up in the air for what seemed like 20 minutes, wondering if I could somehow maneuver a soft landing – not a chance. I went splat, in the middle of the road. Thankfully, our road is dead at 7:30 on a Saturday morning. And thankfully we were fairly close to home. When I limped home and shared these events with my husband, he cringed and then suggested I take up a different form of exercise. Our oldest son’s suggestion was similar, while our youngest son simply said. ‘Mom, don’t take the dog running anymore.’ I much preferred his advice.

When things get tough, giving up should not be our go-to option. How can we accomplish anything with that attitude? How can we grow? We can run up against difficulties and disappointments in our prayer life too; on our journey of faith…we can feel overwhelmed, fatigued, disheartened – but we must never give up. We may have dry periods, or lazy periods when our prayers are not as heartfelt as they normally are. We may feel we are going through the motions, but getting nowhere. This is nothing new; many great saints also suffered these dark periods…but they didn’t give up – or, more precisely, God never gave up on them.

You see? There’s no need for despair –because God truly is in charge. But, if you need a spiritual boost, a shot in the arm – take a walk outside – there’s a whole lot of renewal going on with flowers bursting open, trees budding, grass greening…and birds’ song!Scout now