Happy New Year Across the Pond It must be Midnight!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qkWwHuPZgE

2011 ON ITS WAY TO 2012...

Blogging has a life of its own. Sort of like the old newspaper adage, what have you got for me today. I didn't win a Pulitzer Prize, but I did write my heart out this year.  And I appreciate everyone who was here with me.  

Make this coming year one of caring for someone if you are a caregiver, caring for yourself if you are a caregiver, and letting someone care for you if you are lucky enough to have that opportunity.

I have met some remarkable people in the world in 2011 and lost several as well. It is a sad time in my life, but it is also a hopeful time. Everyday is filled with a small gift and something to be thankful for if you look. It may take a twist of attitude or literary license...some call it denial or illusion. I choose to call is surviving with love. 

My health is improving, my husband is improving as best he can, my friends and family are hanging in and so am I.  If you are one of my new friends, welcome.  I am loyal if nothing else.  :)  

 I thought the standard en do the year song, auld lang syne, would be perfect. Instead I found one of my favorites by my two favorite singers. Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash. I hope the link works when you click on it.  Just a closer walk with thee...and that is each of you.


Happy 2012
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8UnXdR5pSw&feature=related

Dreaming of Butterflies

Is it Spring yet?

 

The Winter doldrums are setting in.  Perhaps I had better pull out the music, and not the blues this time.  The weather is turning cold with promised snow.  The pansies are growing inside, and so is our Northwoods Pine.  Spring cannot be far behind! We hope.

Reflections on Christmas a day later

The presents lay open
Scattered across the floor
Peace enters in silence
The quietness of a baby at rest

The church bells toll
singing Peace on Earth
Good Will Toward Men
A lesson to carry into the morrow

Let it be
let it rest
the troubles of the past no more
A new world has begun today

A Saviour has been born
He will suffer
He will bleed
He will show us what love really means

SANTA AND STARBUCKS: A Great Way to Start Christmas Day

We woke to the sounds of silence this morning.  Not a creature was stirring...

The squirrels were nowhere to be seen. The birds were resting, the geese had flown south, and children were laying still in their beds, some sick, sadly like my niece Sammy, others waiting until the magical hour when Santa appeared and all their dreams will come true. I hope this will be true for my four grandchildren. I did my share to make to happen.

We are getting ready to sit down and have coffee with my special whole grain pancakes with strawberry sauce and sugar-free syrup.  The box of chocolate can wait until later.  

I turned on the news this morning and ran into the movie, "A Christmas Story." Mom and Dad were picking a tree, and the sales man shook it and needles fell in a perfect circle. Not that one! It reminded me of Christmas' past, and I recalled my own two sons at that age and the joy of Christmas morning.  The smiles on their faces, the dinner with family, and feeling loved.  They truly were loved very much. And of course, even though they are both taller than me,and have their own families now, they are still loved just as much. Perhaps even more.  

Well, the movie is over, my reminiscing is best cut short, and get Bill his holiday breakfast. Pancakes for breakfast is a special treat for him.  And that makes it special for me.  Turkey breast and stuffing later with fresh broccoli, and we hope many phone calls throughout the day.  

Merry Christmas to all of you who are part of my extended family. Amazing how we have all become so connected. Caring for another person is best done with others. Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Photos by Ginger Bristow Gaitor (Note the little sign on the welcoming star: BELIEVE!)

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT...

Just when I thought there was nothing left of beauty in my back yard, the birds called me outside to hear them sing.  The pine and the berries said Merry Christmas.  The joy of life has returned after a very long day yesterday.


If you will please excuse me, Bill and I are going to bundle up and have coffee with our birds and squirrels before breakfast.

Ginger's Haiku for Today:

 
Maybe it was the way the sky looked when I opened the blinds this morning, but I was quickly drawn outside. I reached for the camera as I passed my desk, just in case.  I looked to the right and this was what I saw.  It inspired me to look into a definition of modern haiku and see what I could do.  Truthfully, nothing says good morning like the cold brisk wind hitting you in the face as you are shooting a picture of the rising sun!

Ginger's Haiku for Today:

The sun sends a sign

Come into the cold morning

Feel me warm your soul

This definition I use to write haiku is listed below, along with the website.  There are many interesting poems to read on this site if you are interested in a relaxing, peaceful week. I know I am.  

  

Photos by Ginger Bristow Gaitor

http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/ 
 
The history of the modern haiku dates from Masaoka Shiki's reform, begun in 1892, which established haiku as a new independent poetic form. Shiki's reform did not change two traditional elements of haiku: the division of 17 syllables into three groups of 5, 7, and 5 syllables and the inclusion of a seasonal theme.
Kawahigashi Hekigoto carried Shiki's reform further with two proposals:

1. Haiku would be truer to reality if there were no center of interest in it.
2. The importance of the poet's first impression, just as it was, of subjects taken from daily life, and of local colour to create freshness.

  

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas: Brain Injury and Christmas

 Christmas is just a few days away, so Bill and I are thinking of decorating the tree.

I asked him if he wanted to decorate it, and he said, I thought it was.

So far it has the store added bows, a penguin in a bag, and mittens I bought for my children back about 1980. 

We have silver and blue balls to add, an annual tradition for us. Some belonged to Bill's mother and she passed them on to him, some we collected ourselves on sale after the holiday's.

We have a few unique items, like the golf fish and green bass from Bill's brother.  A Tiffany lamp and teddy bear from his sister, and a few angels from friends over the decades.  And of course the new Red Cardinal stockings are already hung with the utmost care.

After the suggestion to start decorating, Bill hit the bed.  His fatigue makes each day longer, and more nap times are needed.  This Christmas is a miracle for both of us.  Our declining health, and the the battle to regain our strength continues. 

Bill just got up from his rest, and said he wanted to play a song he used to like.  He does not remember that we have played it everyday for the past two weeks. "So this is Christmas," by John Lennon with the children singing in the background, he said.  We will play it now while we decorate the tree.

We keep it slow and easy. I do not want to overwhelm him with too many memories, more than he can recall, and the usual sadness for both of us, not being  with our children.

One of the hard things for us this year is the pulling things out and deciding where to put them.  The new apartment is "cozy" and that means little storage space.  Many of our ornaments are things we have collected from our children, and ourselves since they are adults now.  But it will  not be Christmas for me without those very special things that were created by those boys many years ago.  

This year, that includes the reindeer plates of the grandchildren's hands, a photo ornament of Chris at age 4 on Santa's lap, Kevin's paper star from age 4, atop the tree, both of their paper Santa's, and a number of penguins Brad has given to us over the years.  The Gingerbread collection continues to grow, and this one is also an angel.  Go figure! Some collections never stop.

But the nativity, which is carved wood, takes center stage. That is what our Christmas is.  The gift of Love given to the world.  And with that gift comes the responsibility of forgiveness and charity.  Not always easy to do, but a gift that Christianity gives to us. 

We got started!  A beginning.

Enough preaching from me. But I just wanted you to know where I stand on this Christmas stuff. With love and Merry Christmas from us on our slower than usual journey to Bethlehem.

Happy Birthday to Sister Marion

Happy Birthday to Bill's big sister. Don't they look alike?

From the Outside Looking in...Emily Stops by OUR Garden

My friend Lenore understands why this photo is important. I wanted to share it with all of you, as well.  As you can see above the Summer flowers are gone, the Mums of Fall have died away, yet one diligent pansy remains. 

During the past two weeks many of my friends gathered in Amherst, Mass, to wish Happy 181st Birthday to our mutual friend Emily Dickinson.  We had made reservations to stay at a hotel in nearby Northampton for two nights, ourselves, but that was not to be.  Our heart was with those who graciously shared their experiences on Facebook and through emails. 

On my first "pilgrimage" to see my favorite poets home and town, I shopped in the newly opened gift shop, which was then in the old garage on the Homestead property.  The Homestead Museum was not yet open, but the house was open for tours. Long minutes of standing for a lecture, but very little of the house was open to tourists.


Today, you can go through almost the entire house and the docents are turning the home into the home where the Dickinson family lived. The portrait of the three Dickinson children are in the parlor, and the basket Emily used to drop her baked goods is in her room, next to her bureau and bed. 

So I purchased numerous post cards of the poet and her bedroom, and lovingly wrote notes to my friends across the country on each post card about the wonders of actually being in New England, and visiting this house, this garden, this town.

I also purchased a square glass paper weight that day.  Pressed between the two pieces of glass and taped with electric tape was a deep purple pansy. This is my favorite flower, and as I found out sometime later, my future husband's favorite. 

I did not know until that day, that pansies were a favorite of the poet who would leave her home and wander the fields in Spring in search of them.  She later planted them into her own garden which has been restored. Her poems make note of her love of this little flower. Judith Farr has a beautiful book on the Gardens of Emily Dickinson.

Each year as soon as Spring starts to show itself, Bill and I make sure we have pansies.  This plant blooming today is a Johnny-jump-up, like the one in the pressed glass from the Homestead.  As our friend Mike was getting the Christmas lights strung for us on Thursday, Dec. 8, (two days before Emily's birthday) we took down the pot that I forgot to put away with the others from the patio. It was hanging and I thought it was dead.

But here was this flower, in full bloom, saying to us, Happy Birthday Emily Dickinson.  I felt that even though we were not able to make this trip to her, she had come to us in a small way. And as a friend reminded me just yesterday, "Sometimes it's the simple things." 

This is the case here.  This simple little flower brought a smile to our faces, and is still hanging on! Soon it will be a Christmas flower...if Bill can keep the squirrel away from it until then. 

Nine days and counting! Enjoy your day. 

Here are two links to Emily Dickinson sites you might enjoy.
http://www.emilydickinsonmuseum.org/visit
And the Facebook page for The Secret Life of Emily Dickinson, the novel by Jerome Charyn,
https://www.facebook.com/SecretLifeOfEmilyDickinson

Moon Set: Sunrise...all within two minutes

 

I was pretty lucky the other morning to get up in time to catch the setting moon, and the rising sun. Out the back door to catch a breath of fresh air, and then out the front to see what the sun and frost were doing.

Jack Frost was nipping at the bud at 20 degrees, but the sight of a night ending and a day beginning was a joy to me.  I suppose I should take the time to edit these two photos, but I think they are interesting as they are.  I love my life as it is.  I refuse to let the distance and miles between me and my children, family and friends ruin each day for me. I miss them, but I know they understand that my health has to return before I can fly that far again.

When I called from the pharmacy to tell Bill I had to make a side trip to the Mall for a Christmas gift for my six-year-old granddaughter, he told me a squirrel tried to eat our one remaining ice pansy, and he chased it away. He loves those flowers and I am glad he was successful. Sometimes the squirrel wins! 

Keep on taking care of yourselves caregivers, and enjoy what Mother Nature has to offer as you have the opportunity.  And remember that each of us is a caregiver for someone. Let's be sure to help each other as we can. Especially during this time when we are all suppose to be joyous no matter what our burden.  Take care.

Photos by Ginger Bristow Gaitor

Trying to keep the overload to a minimum

Getting a Foothold today means trying to keep the overload at a minimum. Just get through the day without a melt down. After the physical med doctor gave me some shots in my spine I tried to rest.  I was very relieved, and so was the doctor, that I did not have an allergic reaction to the medication. He was very cautious. No one wants to set off another severe reaction, but I was tired of living in pain as well. He confided in me that he was afraid the shots that had been helping my back had caused the reaction in February.  No reaction yesterday means we can eliminate that drug as a cause and can renew the shots as needed.  

I rested pretty well last night. But at 5 a.m. this morning I just had to get up and get busy. 

We had a few computer issues to take care of, then pay the bills, continue with Christmas cards, and prepare for the day. Today Bill does Life Skills, and I have an appointment and later we expect company.  We are still discussing a tree, but where would we put one?  Our energy levels are not as high as they were last year, so we will probably get a small life pine and decorate that.

I have a hand-full of calls to make for Bill and myself, and then off to the pharmacy for our prescriptions before a doctor visit for myself.  Today I think caregiving and aging gracefully are not on the list for me.  Dan works great to help Bill and they have an outing planned to the Discovery Center, a nature spot nearby.  I will be happy to have 3 hours where someone else is responsible for care and worry for Bill during that time.  


If I play my cards right, I may find time to make it to Starbucks and get a pound of Pikes Place.  A relaxing spot to sit and just be me. I love to watch the other coffee sipping sitters.  It feels like a short story in the making when I am there. A very interesting group of people of all ages visit our local Starbucks. It is near the university, and that always make for interesting discussions.

I look forward to our dinner guests and plan to enjoy every minute of our time together.  Other people are a blessing in our life, and we are are blessed to have new friends in our new home.

Make the most of today, fellow caregivers.  It won't come around again. 

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

I for one cannot wait.  My six-year-old grandson is in the same boat.  I think we may be a little alike. I was always the child who found every gift and opened it, even if it was wrapped, and had to fain surprise Christmas morning. This started young.  As a parent, I went out of my way to hide gifts from my children.  But I have never admitted, and never will admit, that Santa Clause does not exist.  He lives in me, and in my memories, and in boxes hidden under Mommy's bed.

There are days when medical appointments, and medication plans overwhelm all of us.  But I think a season of magic and holiday fun is what we all need.  Let's forget about the aging process, the conditions that plague us as human beings, and believe in fun and light, and flying reindeer. 

Only 12 days to go before that magic sleigh will streak across the sky, fulfilling dreams and magic. If you know someone who needs this magic filled in their life, give Santa an extra hand. On Dancer...On Prancer...Santa Claus is coming to town!

Thanks to my friend Alene for the Thomas Kincaid Collection!
Photo by Ginger Bristow Gaitor 

THIS IS FOR MY LUCY AND SNOOPY LOVING FRIEND...

ET....

PHONE HOME!! YOU HAVE THE NUMBER. 

Missing you!

Getting Ready for Christmas: A song we listen to each year

Wishing everyone a stress free preparation period for Christmas or the holiday you celebrate.  We realized yesterday that this IS CHRISTMAS...the days leading up to the big finale.  Sort of actors on a stage strutting and reading their lines.  Only it is each of our own individual play.  The one song we listen to each year is hard to find.  It has grown to be a very positive song in our lives over the years. I am going to try to attach it here and wish you all a very, merry Xmas. For those troops heading home from Iraq, War is Over. Animal lovers will enjoy this! Enjoy the next 13 days! Remember, Santa is on his way. Better not pout!

Dec. 10, 1830: Birthday of a poet

181 years ago today, a poet was born. She lived the quiet life of a woman who gossiped about by her own neighbors and community. No one really understand who she was.  Fortunately for her, her family was one of the top families in Amherst. Her father and brother were both Trustees of Amherst College, and successful lawyers. My opinion of Emily Dickinson has changed over my lifetime. The scholarship and research into her life has grown and new insight into who she was and why lived as she did is debated.  There are many who take umbrage at the notion she was a recluse.  They feel she was just a woman of her time. However, there is little debate about her ability as a poet.  The little packets sown together to be destroyed by her sister.  At least that was a possibility.  

Luckily, her sister Lavinia saved most of them, and after decades of battle, her collection is as complete at it will ever be.  If I seem to harp on the same topic over and over, it is because I learned to love nature by looking at it slowly, through her eyes, as her eyes looked at nature; as Walt Whitman and Ralph Waldo Emerson looked at it.  It was as though grass, and leaves, and even garden snakes were just taken for granted before them.  American Literature has been greatly changed by the poetry of this shy, retiring woman.  I have been greatly changed by her love of her home, her family, her garden. 

Many of the people I converse with daily are also fans of this young woman, who died way too young.  This all seems very trite so I will pause and come back to it in a minute. 

I took these three photos last summer on our visit to the Homestead, the place where Emily Dickinson called home for most of her life. The guide even showed us the back door where they took her body out after she had laid in the parlor after she died.  It was her home, her life, her place of death.  If there is a heaven, I want a seat at the table next to her one day. I have a million questions I cannot answer without her help. 

So once again, Happy Birthday to the Diva of the Day...a woman who would have been more at home in the 21st century than in her own time, or so my friend Lenore tells us. And I think she may be totally correct. 

Photos by Ginger Bristow Gaitor

Full Cold Moon: December in New York

According to the Farmers' Almanac, this is the Full Cold Moon:

• The Full Cold Moon; or the Full Long Nights Moon – December During this month the winter cold fastens its grip, and nights are at their longest and darkest. It is also sometimes called the Moon before Yule. The term Long Night Moon is a doubly appropriate name because the midwinter night is indeed long, and because the Moon is above the horizon for a long time. The midwinter full Moon has a high trajectory across the sky because it is opposite a low Sun.

Bill and I were our gazing at the stars and looking for the moon.  This was a great sight.  Enjoy the full moon and the eclipse if you are lucky enough to see it. 

Photo by Ginger Bristow Gaitor

It Was the Best of Times. It Was the Worst of Times.

Yesterday really was a very difficult day for me.  I had heard from a dear friend that her husband had died of a massive heart attack on the way to a doctor's appointment, back in February when I was in the hospital with a severe allergic reaction to one of my medications.  We moved and until she received my Thanksgiving card, she did not have my new address or phone number. She had tried to call and got the disconnect notice.

Katie and Ted had been married almost 30 years.  The couple took cruises and earned their passage by teaching dance to other couples on the cruise ship.  When she was a young girl from Maryland, she wanted to grow up and become a dancer. And boy did she!  At 18 she joined the Rockettes in New York City, and not long after that she joined the Catholic sisterhood, and became a nun.  She is my oldest son's god-mother, and we love her dearly.  A few decades later, she met Ted.



She decided that this would be her next avocation. And they lived happily ever after.  (My granddaughter told me on my last visit that the princess ALWAYS has to live happily ever after.)  Sounds like a good idea to me. 


Ted was battling cancer and then Alzheimer's during the past 10 years or so.  But Katie never altered from her commitment and love of Ted.  When he was feeling well, they continued to teach dance, and take a cruise now and then.  I am sorry to hear of her passing. In an effort to keep her spirits up, her neighbor's encouraged her to join them on a 10 day cruise. That is where she is now. I hope that she is dreaming sweet dreams of dancing with Ted as the ship rocks her through the nights.
 
I had just had the news that my close friend's Mother had passed away before Thanksgiving, and was still sad about that.  When I called a mutual friend to make sure she knew as well, she told me her own mother-in-law was in the hospital following a stroke. She had fallen and hit her head and now her head was filling with fluid.  Again, another person who has lived a long, full and happy life. But it is always so hard to lose one's mother. Or spouse. Or child. Or friend.

Then yesterday while I was exercising at physical therapy, I had a call on my cell phone which is never far from my side in case Bill needs me.  I was in the warm water aquaciser, a water-filled tread mill. Someone asked me to describe it and they said, Oh you are in a fish tank. Sort of.  The therapist said it was OK to take the call.  Just don't drop the phone in the water


A voice I did not recognize said, "Someone from this number has called this number. Was it you?"  

It took me a minute to shift gears.  I said, "Yes. Is this Art's daughter. How is he."  She told me passed away on Sunday.  

When I tried to call his daughter back after I was safe on land, I dropped the phone in the toilet! (It is fixed now, thank heavens.)

On my drive home I was sad and worried and began to have chest pains. I was afraid I was having a heart attack. It is probably esophageal spasms again, or the heat and exercise combined, along with shock. My doctor is having me see the cardiologist in the morning however. No more exercise for me for now.

Art had called me last week to thank me for the Thanksgiving card, and to tell us he was having a colonoscopy to see what they could do about a cancerous growth they had found on his CT-Scan.  He'd never had a routine exam, and he was 89. He had lost his energy the past three months after their move toward NY City to be closer to their daughter.  He had lost about 25 pounds and was not walking or doing much of anything.  Our friend Jean said is just depressed because he hated to leave our rural country neighborhood.  I wish she had been right.

Our car and sidewalk before Art hit the path.

For the past four years Art has been a substitute father for me. He asked if he could a Daddy since I needed one, and I said sure. When I needed a ride to and from an appointment, and when our car broke down, it was always Art who came to rescue us.  When the car was piled with snow and we were getting our boots and coats and gloves on, Art had taken his broom and swept the snow away.  When our sidewalk was piled too high to walk, he would start from inside the building and work his way with the shovel to our door to clear a path for us to the building and to our car.  And then later in the day, Art would come back down and say let's go for our afternoon walk to the park! The river must really be flowing today!

The river flowing on our afternoon walk with Art.

We traded books and shared trips to the library for each other. When one of us found a new author, we passed that along and shared the news and the books themselves. I have missed that book connection.





When we took the new apartment, I knew we would miss Art and his wife. She had become ill with Alzheimer's and he had been caring for her for several years.  We knew they would be leaving soon for the city.  He drove me to the new apartment to get the keys, helped us move, tried to rent us a moving company, and cleaned our apartment since I was unable to do much at that time. ( I was back in the hospital for two weeks shortly after the move.)


When I was still in the aquaciser, I called our mutual friend Jean and told her he was gone.  I had called here a half hour before from the waiting room to tell her I could not reach him, I had tried for three days and was worried.  She and her husband Ed put up a note in the building, and Ed walked down to tell a couple of neighbors in person.  


Art didn't just help us...he helped us all.  We love you Art, and event though you believe that dead is dead, I feel as though you can hear me say I will miss you terribly.  There is no way I would have managed to care for Bill alone during the past four years without him. You were a great Daddy to me when I really needed one. You will live on in our hearts, and we will be here for Jean until she joins you and your son.

Somehow it appears, this blog has turned me back into an obit writer.  That is not what this is about. It is about me telling all of you who are reading this, our children, family and friends, who love me, who love Bill, that you are in our hearts and minds and souls.  If we don't get a chance to say goodbye for some reason, know that you are greatly loved. And always will be.

Sadly, I had a sticky note on my computer monitor to remind me to make Fall pictures of the North Country for Art.  I never got to it. Right now I hear someone outside scraping the ice and snow off of their car.  I am sad.  It is not Art.  It is my beautiful new red-headed neighbor in her long black wool coat.  We just had a talk about the cold. It is good to be here.  She is getting ready to head to work. Our lives continue.  Bless us all.

Goodnight Sweet Friend: Rest in Peace in God's Arms

I guess as we age. we lose more and people that we care about. I just had an email from my close friend that her husband's mother had passed away.  She was a great woman.  Her husband worked in the Montana coal mines all of his life, and so did one of her sons.  She raised a handful of boys who treated her with the love and respect she deserved.

I first met her in our hometown, and she was part of our social group during the months she stayed with her son and family.  She was a guest in my home, and was always so sweet to me. She was a loving woman, and as strong as they come.

I had the honor of visiting her in her home in the late 1990s.  She loved that house, where she raised her children, and as she became ill she refused to leave it.  No more visits to California, no more visit north to her youngest son.  It caused a few gray hairs for those who loved her, but she survived there up until the end of last month, well past 90.  She will be greatly missed, as she was greatly loved.

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet princess,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet 5.2

WHY BLOG: A new step in the journey

Yesterday I had a lesson if life changes. 

I received a package from a dear friend, whom I have not seen in person in a  few years. She emailed for our new address since our move earlier this year, and said to watch for a small package. 

Last night as we were watching the news, I saw the package that arrived in the mailbox earlier that day sitting on the edge of my desk.  I told Bill it was probably another angel. This friend had been sending me an angel for Christmas since our boys were toddlers.  That was a mighty long time and many angels!  I looked around for a place for the new angel in the living room. Near the nativity seemed the best spot. 

Then I opened the package and was truly surprised at what I saw.  A handmade bag, holding two tea bags, with a note to drink them at half past three of Christmas day. And she will do the same. A lovely idea.  And under that was a note.  She saw these stockings and could not resist purchasing them for us.  I was deeply touched. 

The surprising part for me, was that I have changed so much over the years, and my friend and I have each raised our families, more years apart than in the same town. But our friendship has never died.  Our caring and concern for each other has never lagged. We met in a prayer group many decades ago.  She continues to lead a prayer group in her church, while I rarely make it to Mass. But the friendship and love that began in Christian friendship is as strong as ever.  

So why was I surprised at this package? I was surprised that a blog I began last year to help me stay strong, positive, and whole really reaches others. It is not just my tossing words onto the screen and being finished with a project for the day. This morning I am sipping coffee from my red Cardinal Tervis tumbler from another friend who reads the blog.

My journey with Bill is long distance, and long term. Marriage, for better or worse, is our commitment for a lifetime.  Those vows are harder to take for all of us at one time or another. But my goal in sharing this blog is to reach other caregivers, other spouses and friends who may be walking a similar journey. To let them know the struggle is real but the rewards are great. And I have done that. My newest friend is in Australia, and I love to share emails and read her blog, and she reads mine and sends messages to me in private on her own struggles. The support of many others has helped me recover this year.

One thing I know for certain is that Bill and I have a deep abiding love.  The kind of love my long-time friend and I have.  And to see that she has selected a Christmas gift that has changed through this blog, through both of our life changes, brought tears to my eyes. 

When I was so ill earlier this year, my brother called and said he had not heard from me for awhile and was worried about me. I was in the hospital but he did not know.  I told him I was going to be in bed recuperating for awhile. And he said, "No more icicles?" I had no idea he read my blog.  Those three little words, no more icicles, could not have meant more to me than the supremely, societal three little words, "I love you."  I know he loves me, but my brother is a man of little words.  These three were magic and hope and joy for me.  

So when I get a bit tired, or lazy, or think I am sitting here alone, I have learned a valuable lesson this year.  Our words have great meaning, our photos live in other hearts, and our friends and family are with us not matter what! 

Many of the things in our life are personal and will stay that way. But I have much to be thankful for this holiday season. My children, their families, and my home with my husband.  

We never know what causes a person to respond to one article or another.  The one blog that gets the most hits on Getting a Foothold is the Pink Mustang!   So if anyone is still looking for a gift for us this year...

That of course was a joke, but it is true. The fact that you have read this far tells me you are a keeper.  Thanks, as always for being here on our journey. That is the only gift we will ever need.

The link to the Red Cardinal pays a visit on this blog is from 7-11-11,   http://gettingafoothold.blogspot.com/2011/07/red-cardinal-pays-visit-caregiving.html

SUNSET: Turn Around

Amidst the chaos of my desk

I turn toward the open windows
Red sunlight fills the skies

A short reprieve
A joy to behold
while everything is out of control internally
the universe is gently putting itself to rest

Rest calls into the setting sun
Turning around in time
to catch the rays of hope

by Ginger Bristow Gaitor