The Green Blanket

Have you ever felt bad and just wanted to cover up with a soft, warm, velvety blanket?  When I feel bad, I don't like bright lights in my eyes and I want something warm and soft to crawl under.  I suppose those are just comfort things to me, but they make me feel better. 

My "Other Mother" is sick.  She's in ICU at Emory University in Atlanta and I'm here, feeling sad and concerned for her.  I wrote about her in an earlier post.  She's the nearest thing to a mother I have and I love her.  On Christmas Day we went to a local hospital here in town to visit her before she was taken to Atlanta for surgery.  I thought about my blue blanket that I love so much at home so I carried her a new green one like it.  I'm so glad I did.  Those old white woven hospital blankets just don't feel much like home.  She immediately wanted me to cover her with it and she pulled at it with her hands and talked about how soft and warm it felt.  We fixed her a bowl of homemade chicken and dressing and piece of 12 layer chocolate cake and watched as she ate it all.  It was so good to see her alert and talkative and eating well. 

Today she's in ICU and I'm praying.  Her daughter called to tell me that she had asked for her blanket.  She had carried it all the way to Atlanta with her in the back of an ambulance.  I had told her when she touched it, to know that I was there with her.  Not with my physical body but with my love from many miles away.  I hope it is bringing some comfort to her in a cold, sterile hospital.  A blanket is just a material thing, doesn't cost much, and is many times taken for granted,but the love that this green blanket holds for a sweet little 89 year old woman is just beyond measure.

Swinging Under the Stars

My husband and I are hopeless romantics.  We should have been born in another era.  Or maybe it's okay that we are where we are right now, nearing the year 2012.  Our simple lifestyle is probably what keeps us sane in a crazy world. 

I got home last Friday and there was an old swing hanging under one of our old oak trees.  We have a swing on the front porch and we have an abundance of rocking chairs but this old swing was special.  It was right under the stars and there would be dirt under my feet.  I couldn't wait for us to try it out.  And we did!  We put on our sloppy clothes, grabbed blankets and hot coffee and took off through the yard.  The old oak tree has a huge limb that reaches out like a strong man's arm and it was a perfect place to hang the swing.

Jeff pulled his truck close by and turned the radio on to the Grand Ole Opry.  And weren't we something?  Sitting outside, bundled up in blankets, listening to the radio under the stars.  We're starting to act like old people!

It was amazing to tilt my head back and look through the oak leaves and see millions and millions of stars.  I was in awe of God's beautiful universe.  I never noticed the stars in the 70's when hip huggers and smock tops where on top of my shopping list, or in the 80's when my life was so messed up and crazy and sad, or in the 90's when my job was more important than anything I could think of.  It took over 50 years for me to calm down and learn to appreciate the really fine things in life.  And I'm learning that the wonderful things aren't really things at all.  Sitting in an old swing at night with my husband's arm around me, looking up at the stars, one dog in my lap and one dog sitting up beside me.  Life is good!

I've Lost My Extra Ears

I could start another entire blog on a little friend named "Barney".  In my divorced life I decided I never wanted another man...I'd just get a dog.  This little fellow came from an abused environment but the lady that sold him to me told me he'd make an excellent watch dog.  I had told her about being deaf and how I couldn't hear my phone or hear someone knocking at my door and she assured me he would be perfect for me.  I had my doubts.  I carried him home with me almost six years ago and within a couple of days he had my heart wrapped around his little paws.  Not only did he bark when someone came to my door, he'd curl up beside me and sleep next to me at night.  He loved bubble baths and sitting in the recliner watching episodes of "Gun Smoke."  He'd crawl up on the float next to me as I laid out in the sun on the lake.  He loved to swim in the water and ride on the bow of the boat.  He'd sit on the stool next to me as I played the piano.

When Jeff and I married, Barney and I moved to the country and this little fellow turned into a cattle dog overnight.  He thought he was tough stuff, romping through the pastures, chasing birds, digging up moles and sleeping under the stars.  Gone were his days of being couped up all alone in a lonely house.  He had new friends, he had a huge playground and he patrolled the perimeters.  Oh, he still slept inside at night when it was too hot or too cold and he still had his bubble baths and visits to the beauty parlor.  But he became bigger than life as he marched right along beside a rough and tough blue heeler cattle dog.  He didn't mind when the other dogs laughed at him for wearing his reindeer antlers at Christmas.  He might have gone country, but he still had class.

This week, I lost my friend.  I lost my extra set of ears.  I lost my buddy, my little love.  I got too close to him as folks that have no children tend to do with their dogs.  I felt like I let him down.  I should have put him inside as we ran to eat at a local restaurant but since he'd just been fed and was playing with the other dogs, we thought sure he'd be okay for an hour.  Wrong.  He went through the pasture, across the highway to visit a neighbor and was killed as he came back home.  I can't even described how I cried.  I felt like I had lost a child.  My heart ached and my chest felt like someone had crushed it.  Jeff wrapped him carefully and buried him next to Bo, our 18 year old blue heeler that died last year. 

And this morning as I let the other dogs out, I called for him to come on and let's go out and play.  When he didn't come, I went back to the bedroom, got down on my hands and knees and looked under the bed for him.  That was his favorite hiding place but he wasn't there.  My heart sank as I realized he'd never be there again and I cried.....again. 

For someone that's never known the unconditional love of a dog, it would be hard for them to understand what happens when four little paws jump up in your lap and curl up beside you to wait on you to finish your coffee, hoping you save just a little bit for them.  Good bye my Barney.  Mama's gonna miss you very much. 

Lord, help me to be the person my dog thinks I am.  Author Unknown