Thursday, March 1, 2012

A Drive Down Memory Lane



I recently drove past this gorgeous church, where more than 2 decades ago I nervously performed (for several years in a row) on warm [ahem, sweltering] June Sunday afternoons for a small audience of faithful family members who would gather to listen to yet another rendition of "The Entertainer" or "Fur Elise," plunked out on the keys by children aspiring to someday become famous concert pianists. (I must stop now to thank my own faithful family members who came to support [read: ENDURED] my faltering, timidly-played melodies.)

In the 25 years since I was last there, the church has become stunningly beautiful (and I'm sure the enormous pipe organ housed inside has become considerably smaller as well). I was filled with nostalgia, considering the recent tragic death of my kind and patient childhood piano teacher (read the aforementioned church's tribute to her here--she was privileged to play that astounding pipe organ for 58 YEARS!! Even with her red hair and the same last name, our families were not related, except through unity in Christ Jesus.)

{My summer piano lessons were scheduled for 10 am Thursday mornings, usually starting late due to conversation between Shirley and Mom and almost always followed by a stop at "Dad's Ice Cream Shop" walk-up window for my "usual"--small chocolate cone with rainbow jimmies. }

My mind recalled that Dad had actually been given Shirley's name as a devoted piano teacher by a mutual friend Jim Burns. Jim sang with the Coatesville Choraliers and Shirley was the accompanist. (Did Shirley's husband work with Dad and Jim? I can't remember...although in its glory days, who DIDN'T work at "the mill"?!) I remember attending Christmas concerts of the Choraliers at CASH.


Along the same road as that church is the store of Jim's current employment--he bags groceries and greets the customers. Jim was not just my dad's co-worker, but trusted friend, for more than 40 years now. I would love to find some of the old photos of their hunting days, their sons included! Jim would often call (on the phone or in person!) late in the evening, pulling into our drive-way with in his blue (or was it green?) Ford pick-up (and in later years, in his wife Dottie's Cadillac!) bringing paper bags full of candy bars or at Christmas time the infamous specialty-brand fruit cakes! "Could I bother you for a cup of tea, Loi-ey?" he would ask my mom. Jim would always tell the greatest stories. We knew we had an open invitation every summer to swim in their family's pool on Bailey Road. And by the next season, he would always check to see if Dad was up for taking in to some high school football, especially the game between rivals, Downingtown and Coatesville. There's a picture somewhere of the time when Jim went with our family to the Meadowlands Stadium in NY to see the TN Vols play!


(found it!!!)


Dad also had a connection via work of someone who constructed wooden playhouses. I believed he lived in Cochranville. (Not an important detail, just a random piece of information--I vaguely remember at the intersection of 10 and 41 trying to see his house on the next street over....wish I could ask Dad his name.) Right about the time that my photo appeared on the front page of the local paper (*that's a story for another day*), sometime in my second grade year, the long awaited playhouse arrived at my house and was positioned along the hedge in the back yard! Joyous day! I had envisioned my little table and chairs positioned just so with a white picket fence surrounded by happy little flowers out front. The playhouse dream was nice while it lasted; but alas! the playhouse was constructed with non-treated wood and soon was bug-infested. I believe before it fell in completely, it was even home to a family of raccoons (or skunks!)---that was after it was piled high with old newspapers that never made it to "recycling heaven."

"Thanksgiving"--the power of a word

Psalm 100:4 "Enter into his gates with _____________, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name."

Mom read this passage of Scripture to Dad yesterday and he supplied the word "thanksgiving" when she paused!

Thanksgiving. I was reminded again recently of having a thankful heart IN all circumstances. Tears stung my eyes as my husband prayed for my father, as we do so often, for Dad to be peaceful and comfortable and "thank you, Lord, for the gift of this extra time that we have with him."

Ah, truly it is a gift.

"Enter into his gates with THANKSGIVING and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name."

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Eye drops with "Dr. Grandson"

I watched my husband help his dad with eye drops and I was reminded of this picture. (A little blurry maybe, but you get the idea!) It's dated November 14, 2005, 6 1/2 years ago. (Dad was mostly healthy then, maybe showing a few random symptoms of the disease.) My son, at age 3, loved to help his Poppy with eye drops (notice Grammy's hand guiding the process!)

What is it about eye drops that are so intriguing to a little guy?
Here he is the same day, out "raking" leaves behind Grammy and Poppy's house:

Wow, Poppy was brave to let a 3 year old administer medication! Dad had just turned 72 the day before.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Our New Normal

It's been some time since I posted about Dad's current condition.
The reason? There's really not much to say. Because Dad really does not have much to say. Recently, my brother went to visit him. When Dad saw him, he said, "hi, son."
I looked back over some old posts, at where we were and where we've come. Did I ever think then as we started this journey that only two words would be "significant communication"? Did I ever even know what Alzheimer's meant? It's not just forgetting, but it's losing everything you've ever known, and most of the time in a very irrational way. And then after that, nothing and emptiness.
When people ask me, "how's your dad?" what am I to say? They are kind in asking, but I imagine myself bluntly saying in a flat voice, "he's dying, in a slow, pitiful way." Most of the time, I politely respond, "oh, about the same." How could they know what that means? And that "sameness" is flickering down ever so slowly that I can hardly see the change until I compare now with then.

Today has been three years since Dad entered skilled care. My grief is different now. I step out. I press on. I have to. Mom also celebrated her 75th birthday without the one she loves (present tense) most on this earth. She was surrounded and honored by ones who love her. Mom has a husband and three children. She asked me for a copy of a picture taken today of "just the five of us." She frowned and corrected herself, "just the four of us."

~We live, we love, we forgive
and never give up
because the days we are given
are gifts from above.
And today we remember
To live and to love~

(Superchic[k])

Thirty-six and half years

Leaving the quick mart today, I was caught off-guard and transported back 25 years.

It was the smell.

Stale cigarette smoke mingled with a faint scent of coffee. Honestly, it stank. But the memory it evoked was dear to my heart, the smell was almost pleasant.

It was the exact smell on Dad's clothes when he came home from work each day. (Back then, indoor smoking was permitted in public buildings.) Even though my father was not a smoker himself, he would often reek of cigarettes from the habits of his co-workers. And coffee. Oh, the coffee. Dad was a heavy drinker when it came to a cup o'joe. In fact, he was known as the "Coffee Man" at work. He supplied the coffee, creamer and sugar for the office. He replaced the coffee maker when needed. And he purchased countless styrofoam cups for all.

Dad worked hard at his job. Thirty-six and a half years at one place brought stability and security for his family. Thirty-six and a half years is a long time. Dad was faithful and dedicated. I recall many early mornings of Mom ironing his shirts. And Dad sitting at the kitchen table wearing his white undershirt while he waited. He would be reading Our Daily Bread and the Scripture aloud while she ironed there in the hallway or cooked his breakfast--bacon and eggs and potato cakes or oatmeal. And Dad never reported off. He just went to work, illness or no illness.

Dad knew from experience the value of a good job. There were some lean days financially in his adulthood as he earned his way in this world, before he settled in to this one. I wish I could hear him tell again of his post-high school days of working in the greenhouse in Cleveland with Jamie (and falling through the roof, shattering the glass) and finding jobs in Detriot with Tom Sapp, living there with his sister Berta and hitch-hiking up and down the map. And his days of selling Watkins Products, and how he unintentionally almost killed his two young sons with those very products! (The details of those stories are becoming fuzzy to me.)

Today that one short unintentional whiff of rank odor reminded me of my Dad's loyal service to his employer and what he showed by example to his family.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

I wish....he wished

My brother and his family moved into a big, rambling house yesterday. It's perfect for their family---not over the top enormous, but large enough that each person has their own space, especially to pursue their hobbies (rooms dubbed to fit those activities: "art studio", "workshop", "exercise room"). It's great!

I wish Dad could know.

(The extent of his responses these days are limited to slight smiles, the kind that just soften the lines around his eyes--like when he saw my son come into the room yesterday.)

I often heard Dad say to my brother, "I wish you could get a bigger house, son." I couldn't help but think how Dad would have loved to sit out on the screened-in back porch with a cup of coffee. He would have been just as happy for them as I am, probably more so, if he only knew....
I guess I'll just have to sit out on the porch for him.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

James Earl Ferguson - Obituary 9-12-2011

FAYETTEVILLE - James Earl "Fergie" "Boxie" Ferguson, 79, of Fayetteville, passed away Monday, Sept. 12, 2011, in Fayetteville VA Medical Center. His funeral service will be held at 7 p.m. on Sunday, Sept. 18, 2011, in Saint Pauls Funeral Home chapel in St. Pauls. A visitation for family and friends will be Sunday evening at 6 p.m., prior to the funeral service. Burial with full military honors will be held Monday, Sept. 19, 2011, at 11 a.m. in Post Cemetery on Fort Bragg. Special Forces will honor him as pallbearers at the graveside. He was a Master Mason in the Fayetteville Lodge, a Shriner and a member of the Special Forces Association. Mr. Ferguson served in the U.S. Army for more than 23 years, serving four tours in Vietnam and a tour in Korea. While in the service he was awarded with the Korean Service Medal with four Bronze Stars; National Defense Service Medal; Master Parachute Badge; Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal (Laos); Combat Infantryman Badge Second Award; United Nations Service Medal; Bronze Star Medal; Air Medal, Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation; Bronze Arrowhead; Medical Badge; Vietnam Service Medal; National Defense Service Medal First O.L.C.; Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal with 60 Device; Presidential Unit Citation (Vietnam); Republic of Vietnam Cross of Gallantry with Palm; Army Commendation Medal; Presidential Citation (Korea); and Civil Actions Honor Medal Second Class (Vietnam). He retired as an E8. He is survived by a daughter, Debra Lowry of Lumber Bridge; son, Hank Martinez of Fayetteville; brothers, Roy Lee Ferguson and Donald Ferguson, both of Tennessee; sisters, Claudette Johnson of Alabama, and Ann Newcomer of Florida; five grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his wife, Oneida Ferguson; son, James E. "Jimmy" Ferguson Jr.; and brother, Guy Ferguson. Services are entrusted to Saint Pauls Funeral Home of St. Pauls.