There’s no question: My days are numbered

This article was in the Oregonian in November of 2006. I love it. And, at this time of year the point of it is good to remember:

The average American home now has more television sets than people, according to Nielsen Media Research. There are 2.73 TV sets in the typical home and 2.55 people, the researchers said. --The Associated Press Sept 21, ’06

I have two kids. Both are away at college.
I have five television sets. (I like to think of them as a set of five televisions.) I have two DVR boxes, three DVD players, two VHS machines and four stereos.
I have 19 remote controls, mostly in one drawer.
I have three computers, four printers and two nonworking faxes.
I have three phone lines, three cell phones and two answering machines.
I have no messages.
I have 46 cookbooks.
I have 68 takeout menus from four restaurants.
I have 116 soy sauce packets.
I have 382 dishes, bowls, cups, saucers, mugs and glasses.
I eat over the sink.
I have five sinks, two with a view.
I try to keep a positive view.
I have two refrigerators.
It’s very hard to count ice cubes.
I have 39 pairs of golf, tennis, squash, running, walking, hiking, casual and formal shoes, ice skates and rollerblades.
I am wearing slippers.
I have 41 37-cent stamps.
I have no 2-cent stamps.
I read three dailies, four weeklies, five monthlies, and no annual reports.
I have 506 CD, cassette, vinyl and 8-track recordings.
I listen to the same radio station all day.
I have 26 sets of linen for four regular, three foldout and two inflatable beds.
I don’t like having houseguests.
I have 184,000 frequent-flier miles on six airlines, three of which no longer exist.
I have “101 Dalmations” on tape.
I have 14 digital clocks flashing relatively similar times.
I have 22 minutes to listen to the news.
I have nine armchairs from which I can be critical.
I have a laundry list of things that need cleaning.
I have lost more than 1,000 golf balls.
I am missing 37 umbrellas.
I have more than 400 yards of dental floss.
I have a lot of time on my hands.
I have two kids coming home for Thanksgiving.

~Written by Rick Moranis

Some days are like that

Today has been the kind of day that nothing seems to go right. Nothing seems to go wrong, necessarily. It just doesn't go right. Maybe that is why I've lost my brain. I decided to make a yummy wild rice and turkey casserole for dinner. Get rid of some of those turkey leftovers from Thanksgiving. I went to the store especially to get mushrooms for it. Came home, put it all together and stuck it in the oven. About 15 minutes before it was done I opened the fridge. Guess where the turkey still was?!

Ugh.

:) Good thing it is almost over!

A Little Bit of Wyoming on the East Coast

Even if I won't be in Wyoming for Christmas this year, a little bit of Wyoming will be gracing the front lawn of the US Capitol Building. I will also be gracing the front lawn of the Capitol at some point during the holiday season and will therefore, get to experience a little bit of my homestate on the other side of the country. Bliss.

As soon as I found out that this years Capitol Christmas Tree was coming from my homestate, I had to "Like" the Facebook Page. Of course. That page led me to the blog of the adventure from WY to DC. The pictures below I hijacked (with love and appreciation) from the blog~

I absolutely LOVE the one of the tree loaded on the truck with the Tetons in the background. Stunning, really.

The one of the tree in front of the Capitol Building is pretty impressive, also!

Soon enough, I will be seeing it. Adorned with 5,000 ornaments made lovingly by many from around the great state of Wyoming. I can't wait.

(click on the pictures to make them bigger!)

Last visits. Goodbyes.

Last visits, last times to see a person, last looks at something, to someone are interesting. And hard. I experience this a lot with the population I work with. Sometimes I don't know it is the last time. I think I might prefer it that way. Then again. I don't know. Is it easier to say goodbye to a person now before they are gone or later once they are gone? Is it easier to say goodbye to a place that you have fond memories of, knowing you will make more fond memories in the next place?

Goodbyes. They can be either temporary or permanent. The temporary ones are always better. The permanent ones are inevitable.

This post is disjointed. Maybe because my brain is disjointed. Along with my emotions. You see, I made a last visit today. Said goodbye today. It was harder than I expected. Maybe because it was unexpected in the way it happened. As some of you know, and some of you don't, I am a Hospice volunteer. It is a semi-recent thing. I completed my training in June and got my first "assignment" in early August. She was a hard nut for me to crack. We eventually found our groove. She loved having her back massaged. I'd love to have someone massage my shoulders, arms, and back for 45 minutes to an hour once a week. Sounds like heaven. That is what I did for her. Faithfully, once a week. Even with little response from her. Even with little interaction. And only one time (in four months of visits) any indication that she remembered who I was. That didn't seem to matter. She glowed when I was there. It didn't matter that I had to be let in AND out of her building. It just didn't matter. I was making a difference in her life, if only for that hour, once a week.

Late Friday I got a call from one of the Volunteer Coordinators that my first patient was being discharged from services. She had improved enough that she no longer qualifies at this moment in time for Hospice. It was optional to make a last visit.

I made my last visit today. My usual Saturday visit. After the phone call yesterday I couldn't help but feel sorrow. Sadness knowing I had grown accustomed to seeing this lovely, little lady that only has a world as large as her room, her wheelchair, the locked facility that she lives in. That her world has been diminished and will be further diminished, day-by-day, hour-by-hour. Even though the last visit was optional, I couldn't not go and say goodbye. She was in her bed and very agitated. Delusional. She was upset and not consolable. Not redirectable. It broke my heart. Especially as I explained that this was the last time I would come. She looked at me blankly and then started to talk about the rats, wanting to go home. I wanted to go home. I was having a hard time with this. When I had signed up to be a Hospice volunteer it was knowing full well that I would be saying goodbye to my patients. But I hadn't expected to say goodbye to them in person. While they are still alive. And if that is the case, I was wishing that it would have been on a good note. On a note that we'd had our visit last week when she was smiling and happy. I stepped back for a moment and reminded myself that I needed to meet her where she was at. I reapproached her and told her that I was so glad that I had been able to come visit and that I would think of her often. I thanked her. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and said goodbye. She calmed then and said goodbye, probably not (but maybe) understanding the scope of the goodbye.

On my way home I reflected on my thankfullness that I was able to interact with this person. I was able to make a difference in her life and that she made a difference in mine. For this, I am grateful and appreciative. And, I said my final goodbye.

Socks-lots of them!

Apparently, we love our socks here. So much so that some crazy folk arrive in the wee hours of the morning at their local Fred Meyer store on Black Friday to get great deals on socks. Socks. Because I am not originally from here and also choose not to participate in the chaos I forget every year about this madness. That is until I walk into Fred Meyer anytime during the week before Thanksgiving. Every year this thought goes through my mind: "why are there so many boxes of socks. Seriously, stockers, get them out of the isles." Oh, goodness. Socks. 50% off on Friday apparently. Is it worth it?

I've also heard stories of people going in to Freddies on Thanksgiving Day and hiding socks so that they can avoid all the people swarming the boxes and can just go to their friendly garden center and extract said socks out of the pots that they've hidden them in. Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to give away your secret. Really. Please forgive.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. Me and mine will not be sock shopping in the wee hours of Friday morn.

Only in Portland

Portland is a unique city. I love it for that very reason. I am not often 'surprised' by anything I see here. However....this completely caught me off guard.

I was walking to the hospital during my lunch break one day and this is what I saw. After walking past it I had to turn around just to take a picture all the while silently praying that the owner wouldn't walk up as I was doing it. Thank goodness for cell phone cameras.

Drum roll please as I introduce you to the most unusual thing I've seen in a while~~

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is a crocheted car hood warmer. WOW. Really?! Welcome to Portland in all of its "Keep Portland Weird" glory! :) And now, please proceed with your day and have a great one!

The Ripple Effect

Alternately titled:
"On the difference we make in peoples lives

and the difference they make in ours."

This post has been a long time in the making. It has been rolling around in my mind as if it is all that takes up residence in this place. It has been formulating during what has equated to hours of conversations, some where I did the talking, some where I did the listening, all with those who are close to my heart. It took a road trip to see a dear new friend. It took a late night airport run and quiet on my part. It took a picture message of a beautiful fall leaf from a beautiful friend. It took a typical weekly visit and conversation that took a different path than normal. It took walks up a pretty intense hill. It took a reconnection with a mentor from my junior high days. It took listening to music. Listening to my heart. It took the melancholy that settles like a heavy fog in my life, always making itself known during the change of seasons. It took silence. And the processing of conversation content. The processing of brain content. And of heart content. It may not be clear, but it is from deep in my soul. It is tangential. Quiet but loud. It is sincere. It is here, for you, to read. For you to know my appreciation of you.

As of late I cannot not think about the people in my life. I know a lot of people. I have connected with a lot of people. I cherish the impact that they all have had on my life. Hence, the ripple effect. Recently, I've often been finding my thoughts drifting towards the people that have entered my life, and who have not left. The people who have entered my life, and who have left. For all of them, for all of you, I am thankful. Truly. I am. I wouldn't be the person I am today without your presence in my life. Your influence. Your love. Your time. Your patience.

There have been innumerable people who have made a dent in my person, my development. Carefully crafting who I am, carving out the image of me as a person, whether they knew it or not. There is, of course, my family. They are the base, sturdy and strong like a Great Oak. They are the ones who first taught me love. Taught me the impact that can be made in the life of someone, for better or worse. Then there came all who are not blood related, but are heart related. The people that I surround myself with. The people who again, teach me love, but of a different kind. The friends who share their concerns, friends who share their life experiences, their fears, their excitements. And those are the friends that let me share my concerns, life experiences, fears and excitements. It is they, who have open hearts and let me be me and love me for who I am.

As I think of you and thank God for placing you in my life I also wonder at the impact that I have made in your life, in the lives of all those that I interact with. Was it for the better, or worse? I pray for the first, but will also own the later. In several conversations and thoughts that I've had as of late, one of the points I come back to often is: I may know the impact that a particular person has made in my life, but I often forget and minimize the impact that I may have made in the life of another. The reason I make this point is not in vain. The reason I make this point is to remind you, to tell you, that even though you are grateful for those who impact your life, you should always remember that you are also making an impact in peoples lives. You are important. Even if you feel small. Even if you feel insignificant. You aren't. No one is. You have made an impact on me. In my life. I am beyond blessed to have you as a part of me and who I am.

I've decided on the need to be on a personal crusade to more transparently and intentionally acknowledge those who make a difference to me and for me. I begin here. And I hope I don't end. Many blessings to you and many thanks from my heart go to you.



Always,
~Stephanie

Proud New Inheritor of An Original

I was gifted a dear and close to my heart gift tonight. I lost a participant, who was a light in my life, a little over a year ago. I still miss her. I still have the privilege of seeing her family. She was an amazing artist. Her daughter has been trying, for the last year, to get me to willingly accept one of the many paintings they have that her mom had done. I haven't wanted to. I've pushed back. I've resisted. I thought it would be too hard to have one of her pieces. When I was having dinner with her daughter tonight, going through the artwork was brought up. I tried to diffuse the situation. Then she got flustered. I thought in my head, "you know Stephanie, this may be her way of having some closure. Accept the gift graciously." So, I left her home with a new piece of art work for my home. I love it. It already feels like it belongs. Now...to frame it. The mat doesn't do it any justice either. And then, a distinguished place for it to hang.

October Poem of the Month

Fallen Leaves
by Robert William Service

Why should I be the first to fall
Of all the leaves on this old tree?
Though sadly soon I know that all
Will lose their hold and follow me.

While my birth-brothers bravely blow,
Why should I be first to go?
Why should I be the last to cling
Of all the leaves on this bleak bough?
I've fluttered since the fire of Spring

And I am worn and withered now.
I would escape the Winter gale
And sleep soft-silvered by a snail.
When swoop the legions of the snow
To pitch their tents in roaring weather
We fallen leaves will lie below
And rot rejoicingly together;
And from our rich and dark decay
Will laugh our brothers of the May.