Missy had to go to the Vet on Friday. Nothing serious, allergies were making her lick and chew at her paws and I wanted to get her looked at. It certainly wasn't an emergency but they were kind enough to squeeze us in. We checked in at the front desk and turned around to go into the waiting room. We entered the room and there was an audible 'awwwww'.
Yup! Missy was now 'in da house'.
People say that "Missy brings the party" and well, it's true, Missy does bring the party. This little gal just loves being the center of attention. She radiates sunshine and walked into the room with all the sass of a movie star. She was squirming her butt, wagging her tail and going up to all the dogs as if to say "Hi! I'm Missy! Do you wanna be my friend?"
Missy lives her life to be everyone's friend. Big dogs, small dogs, men, women, young or old, it doesn't matter to her. Missy loves everyone and I have yet to meet anyone who doesn't love Missy back. She's a pip.
Missy has a large scar on her back. It's about 6 inches long and there is no fur growing there. The Greenville Humane Society said that Jade (that was her name then) was brought to them like that and they didn't know how it happened. The scar doesn't bother Missy at all but people always comment on it. The scar is such a contrast to her playfulness and it definitely makes her unique and even more memorable.
We found a seat next to a stunning chocolate mixed lab and her owner. The dog's name was Abby and she was a beauty. I was smitten with Abby and Abby was smitten with Missy. They were nose to nose and Abby was giving Missy kisses and plenty of lovin'. They had the whole room captivated and entertained and it was very sweet to watch.
At one point Abby gave Missy a big sloppy kiss on her forehead. Missy just stood there with this big ole lick mark on her head and it was okay. Missy is that kind of friend.
About 20 minutes later, Abby got called into the office. She walked by Missy with one final glance and then she was gone. Missy watched Abby go, waited a moment, and then looked back around the room. Missy was searching out her next friend.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Miles Robert
Four-thirty in the morning and I am outside with Missy. I love the morning sky and find comfort and peace
in the start of each day. For the past two weeks, the
light in my neighbor's house has been on. It's the window on the second
floor and it's Miles' room. Miles is Adrian and Kevin's son and he is two
weeks old.
Miles was born two weeks early and is just a little bit of a fella. He's been steadily gaining weight, but it's been exhausting for Adrian and Kevin. First time parenting is hard work, even more so when the baby is having a hard time feeding. He has been slowly gaining weight, it's only ounces, but when you are less than 6 pounds, those ounces add up and are celebrated.
They are not overly cautious parents. You know the ones; you are expected to scrub like surgeons before you handle their child. Of course they are cautious about germs while his little body gets stronger, but they are also giving and sharing with their son.
Everyone should be so lucky to have friends and neighbors like Kevin and Adrian. They are good and solid people. They are the neighbor who will watch your house while you are gone, bring in your mail and give your dog plenty of lovin' and belly rubs.
When it's a good time for the family, I go next door to check in. A good time is between feedings when Miles is sleeping content with his little belly full. Yesterday, we gathered in the kitchen and the baby was placed in my arms.
With Miles snuggled in, I talk with Adrian and Kevin. Kevin is at the sink washing baby bottles and Adrian shares with me some of the pictures the photographer took a few days earlier. Miles sleeps in my arms with just an occasional stir and sigh and it's one of those moments. One of those moments that make up your day-to-day life. One of those moments that so very often get overlooked because they are just so simple.
So many mornings, over the last few weeks, I have seen the light in the upstairs window. I know that Adrian and Kevin have worked out a schedule to allow the other one to get the needed rest and it's probably Kevin that is up with Miles. I look up at the light and I feel and know it in my heart that they are good parents. Miles is one lucky little fella.
I look at the lit window and think about what is happening in their home and in their world. Kevin is gently picking Miles up out of his crib, soothing him while he changes his diaper and then brings him downstairs to fix the bottle.
In one arm Kevin has Miles; gently rocking and cradling him while the milk heats. Finally, the bottle is ready and father and son go into the living room. They settle down onto the couch and Miles gets his bottle.
After the feeding and the burping, they will head back upstairs, Kevin will gently place Miles in his crib, get back into bed and the light will go out.
Miles was born two weeks early and is just a little bit of a fella. He's been steadily gaining weight, but it's been exhausting for Adrian and Kevin. First time parenting is hard work, even more so when the baby is having a hard time feeding. He has been slowly gaining weight, it's only ounces, but when you are less than 6 pounds, those ounces add up and are celebrated.
They are not overly cautious parents. You know the ones; you are expected to scrub like surgeons before you handle their child. Of course they are cautious about germs while his little body gets stronger, but they are also giving and sharing with their son.
Everyone should be so lucky to have friends and neighbors like Kevin and Adrian. They are good and solid people. They are the neighbor who will watch your house while you are gone, bring in your mail and give your dog plenty of lovin' and belly rubs.
When it's a good time for the family, I go next door to check in. A good time is between feedings when Miles is sleeping content with his little belly full. Yesterday, we gathered in the kitchen and the baby was placed in my arms.
With Miles snuggled in, I talk with Adrian and Kevin. Kevin is at the sink washing baby bottles and Adrian shares with me some of the pictures the photographer took a few days earlier. Miles sleeps in my arms with just an occasional stir and sigh and it's one of those moments. One of those moments that make up your day-to-day life. One of those moments that so very often get overlooked because they are just so simple.
I look at the lit window and think about what is happening in their home and in their world. Kevin is gently picking Miles up out of his crib, soothing him while he changes his diaper and then brings him downstairs to fix the bottle.
In one arm Kevin has Miles; gently rocking and cradling him while the milk heats. Finally, the bottle is ready and father and son go into the living room. They settle down onto the couch and Miles gets his bottle.
After the feeding and the burping, they will head back upstairs, Kevin will gently place Miles in his crib, get back into bed and the light will go out.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Plastic Wrap
How were we to know that when we walked into that Costco nine years ago, we would be coming home with a new addition to the Alden family? We simply went in for laundry detergent, sliced cheese and peanut butter. We were so young. So naïve. So unprepared.
I don't know whose idea it was, perhaps it was mine. A question so casually asked; "Do we need plastic wrap?" And we did. Yes, we did in fact need plastic wrap. So, we bought plastic wrap. Seven hundred and fifty feet of plastic wrap
Within three months, the detergent was gone, the cheese and peanut butter too. But the plastic wrap? Why, we barely scratched the surface - a mere three feet at best.
The years passed. We moved from Bristol to Bristol and brought the wrap with us. A few more years passed, we moved from Bristol to South Carolina - Bill, Janet, Ginger and the plastic wrap.... we all moved 800 miles to South Carolina. We had become so attached, so fond of our plastic wrap, it was hard to imagine a time when it was not a part of the Alden family. We were planning another move soon and of course the wrap would come with us.
A few months ago, I noticed that the roll was getting smaller. I needed to tell Bill. We needed to prepare ourselves. Plus, he had a right to know. The thought of not having plastic wrap in our life, why it never occurred to me. Oh, when I think of my plans about taking the wrap to our new home - I was so sure that we would always have the plastic wrap in our life.
I was home alone yesterday, and as I feared, I came to the end of the wrap. I am not ashamed to admit that I wasn't strong enough and I waited for Bill to come home. I couldn't do it without him. Besides, he had a right to be here. We would say goodbye together.
With Bill's steady hand on my shoulder, I used the last of the plastic wrap to cover my oatmeal cookie dough. It was done. I wiped a tear and Bill got his keys. We were going to Costco.
I don't know whose idea it was, perhaps it was mine. A question so casually asked; "Do we need plastic wrap?" And we did. Yes, we did in fact need plastic wrap. So, we bought plastic wrap. Seven hundred and fifty feet of plastic wrap
Within three months, the detergent was gone, the cheese and peanut butter too. But the plastic wrap? Why, we barely scratched the surface - a mere three feet at best.
The years passed. We moved from Bristol to Bristol and brought the wrap with us. A few more years passed, we moved from Bristol to South Carolina - Bill, Janet, Ginger and the plastic wrap.... we all moved 800 miles to South Carolina. We had become so attached, so fond of our plastic wrap, it was hard to imagine a time when it was not a part of the Alden family. We were planning another move soon and of course the wrap would come with us.
A few months ago, I noticed that the roll was getting smaller. I needed to tell Bill. We needed to prepare ourselves. Plus, he had a right to know. The thought of not having plastic wrap in our life, why it never occurred to me. Oh, when I think of my plans about taking the wrap to our new home - I was so sure that we would always have the plastic wrap in our life.
I was home alone yesterday, and as I feared, I came to the end of the wrap. I am not ashamed to admit that I wasn't strong enough and I waited for Bill to come home. I couldn't do it without him. Besides, he had a right to be here. We would say goodbye together.
With Bill's steady hand on my shoulder, I used the last of the plastic wrap to cover my oatmeal cookie dough. It was done. I wiped a tear and Bill got his keys. We were going to Costco.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Ruth
I went to go see Ruth this morning. She has been in Magnolia Place since May of last year and I visit her every three or four days. She is my 91 year old friend and I love her dearly.
I go in the morning to help her with breakfast. Sometimes when I get there, she is still sleeping and I sit by her bed until breakfast comes. She will tell you that she never sleeps here, but as I sit by her bed, she is sleeping soundly and I let her sleep.
When she is woken up by the nurse, she is almost always cheerful and says "Heeeyyyyy!" and she gives them a sweet little wave using her fingers on her right hand. And then I come into her line of vision and say "Good morning sweetie". She reaches out to me to give me a hug and says "Heeeyyyyyy! I've been missing you".
When I went to visit Ruth at her house (across the street from us) she would always say the same things to me: "I've been missing you" when she sees me, and "Come back" when I leave. She always said these two sentiments to me, even if the last time I saw her was that morning when I brought her the newspaper. I always felt welcome, wanted and loved.
One day, we were sitting outside in her yard and she told me that my name should have been "Jewel". Because that is what I am. I am a "Jewel" to her*. It's a name she calls me often and she will always tell me exactly why she calls me Jewel.
Ruth was my very first friend here in South Carolina. Our house was built on her property. Ginger was with us when we moved here and I was taking her for a walk when I first met Ruth. She was in her front yard with her granddaughter Katelyn and I went over and introduced myself.
I told Ruth that I am out every morning with Ginger and if she liked, I could bring her newspaper to her door. It was January and it was cold and dark in the morning and I was concerned about her walking on the gravel driveway to get her paper. She said to me, "Well, I suppose that would be alright". It wasn't long after that I started to bring her cookies and the afternoon mail. Soon, I would be taking her to the library, doctors and store. She has been my best friend ever since.
I like to visit Ruth in the morning, at first it was because I was concerned she wasn't eating. The staff at Magnolia Place are all very hard working health care aides and they have a lot of patients to attend to. I wanted to be there so I could help Ruth and I wanted to be sure that she ate. She is doing better and can feed herself, but now it has become something that we both look forward to. Our early morning visits.
I am at Magnolia Place most mornings before the administrative staff arrives. Most of the patients are still in bed, although some are up and in the dining room and hallway. They are in their wheelchairs, put into place and rarely do they move beyond where they are placed.
As I walk the two hallways to Ruth's room, I see a lot of the same residents. I always look them in the eye and smile and say "good morning". Some just stare as I walk by and some smile and return the greeting.
I have been coming to visit Ruth a couple times a week for just about a year. I look forward to my visits with her, but the walk down the first hallway always fills me with sadness. I think about the people I pass and I think about the health care aides that work so hard for our elderly community. I think about my own future, and I think about my past. My heart breaks to know that there are residents that do not have any visitors or family. And I am ashamed to admit that at one time, both my grandmothers were in convalescent homes and I very rarely visited them. They could very easily have been any one of these residents longing for companionship.
During my 20's and 30's, I was working both full and part time, taking night classes and I was a member of the CT Army National Guard. It sounds like a lot, but now, to me as I walk these halls past the residents, it just sounds like a bunch of excuses. I was not a very good granddaughter and it shames me to I admit that. As I walk the second hallway, I vow to be a better person and give Ruth, my family and my friends my whole heart.
If it is ready, I pick up Ruth's tray off the cart as I'm walking by. I know how Ruth likes her grits, with just a little bit of butter and salt, and that she really, really likes orange juice. The first thing I do when I get her tray is unwrap her juice, put the straw in the glass and hand the glass to her. She doesn't put the glass down until it is empty. The second glass she savors and drinks as she eats her breakfast. She's not a big eater and soon I am taking her tray away.
When I return, I lower her bed, turn off the overhead light and turn on "The Golden Girls". Ruth can't hear the TV, but the characters are always very animated and Ruth follows along by watching their facial expressions. Soon, Ruth will fall asleep, but before she does, I tell her I am going. I don't want her to wake up and see an empty chair. She reaches out to give me a hug and a kiss. She tells me she loves me and to "Come back".
I leave and walk back down the two hallways saying goodbye to the staff and residents I see on my way out. I get in my car, and before I start it, I always take a moment to thank God for this wonderful friendship I have with Ruth. And I thank God for Toni who so kindly shares her mother with me.
I can not change the person I was in my younger years, but I can try to be a better person today. And yes Ruth, I will "Come back". Most definitely.
* Jewel has become a special word for me and it shows up as little angel lights in my life. ('Jewel' blog 12/22/14)
I go in the morning to help her with breakfast. Sometimes when I get there, she is still sleeping and I sit by her bed until breakfast comes. She will tell you that she never sleeps here, but as I sit by her bed, she is sleeping soundly and I let her sleep.
When she is woken up by the nurse, she is almost always cheerful and says "Heeeyyyyy!" and she gives them a sweet little wave using her fingers on her right hand. And then I come into her line of vision and say "Good morning sweetie". She reaches out to me to give me a hug and says "Heeeyyyyyy! I've been missing you".
When I went to visit Ruth at her house (across the street from us) she would always say the same things to me: "I've been missing you" when she sees me, and "Come back" when I leave. She always said these two sentiments to me, even if the last time I saw her was that morning when I brought her the newspaper. I always felt welcome, wanted and loved.
One day, we were sitting outside in her yard and she told me that my name should have been "Jewel". Because that is what I am. I am a "Jewel" to her*. It's a name she calls me often and she will always tell me exactly why she calls me Jewel.
Ruth was my very first friend here in South Carolina. Our house was built on her property. Ginger was with us when we moved here and I was taking her for a walk when I first met Ruth. She was in her front yard with her granddaughter Katelyn and I went over and introduced myself.
I told Ruth that I am out every morning with Ginger and if she liked, I could bring her newspaper to her door. It was January and it was cold and dark in the morning and I was concerned about her walking on the gravel driveway to get her paper. She said to me, "Well, I suppose that would be alright". It wasn't long after that I started to bring her cookies and the afternoon mail. Soon, I would be taking her to the library, doctors and store. She has been my best friend ever since.
I like to visit Ruth in the morning, at first it was because I was concerned she wasn't eating. The staff at Magnolia Place are all very hard working health care aides and they have a lot of patients to attend to. I wanted to be there so I could help Ruth and I wanted to be sure that she ate. She is doing better and can feed herself, but now it has become something that we both look forward to. Our early morning visits.
I am at Magnolia Place most mornings before the administrative staff arrives. Most of the patients are still in bed, although some are up and in the dining room and hallway. They are in their wheelchairs, put into place and rarely do they move beyond where they are placed.
As I walk the two hallways to Ruth's room, I see a lot of the same residents. I always look them in the eye and smile and say "good morning". Some just stare as I walk by and some smile and return the greeting.
I have been coming to visit Ruth a couple times a week for just about a year. I look forward to my visits with her, but the walk down the first hallway always fills me with sadness. I think about the people I pass and I think about the health care aides that work so hard for our elderly community. I think about my own future, and I think about my past. My heart breaks to know that there are residents that do not have any visitors or family. And I am ashamed to admit that at one time, both my grandmothers were in convalescent homes and I very rarely visited them. They could very easily have been any one of these residents longing for companionship.
During my 20's and 30's, I was working both full and part time, taking night classes and I was a member of the CT Army National Guard. It sounds like a lot, but now, to me as I walk these halls past the residents, it just sounds like a bunch of excuses. I was not a very good granddaughter and it shames me to I admit that. As I walk the second hallway, I vow to be a better person and give Ruth, my family and my friends my whole heart.
If it is ready, I pick up Ruth's tray off the cart as I'm walking by. I know how Ruth likes her grits, with just a little bit of butter and salt, and that she really, really likes orange juice. The first thing I do when I get her tray is unwrap her juice, put the straw in the glass and hand the glass to her. She doesn't put the glass down until it is empty. The second glass she savors and drinks as she eats her breakfast. She's not a big eater and soon I am taking her tray away.
When I return, I lower her bed, turn off the overhead light and turn on "The Golden Girls". Ruth can't hear the TV, but the characters are always very animated and Ruth follows along by watching their facial expressions. Soon, Ruth will fall asleep, but before she does, I tell her I am going. I don't want her to wake up and see an empty chair. She reaches out to give me a hug and a kiss. She tells me she loves me and to "Come back".
I leave and walk back down the two hallways saying goodbye to the staff and residents I see on my way out. I get in my car, and before I start it, I always take a moment to thank God for this wonderful friendship I have with Ruth. And I thank God for Toni who so kindly shares her mother with me.
I can not change the person I was in my younger years, but I can try to be a better person today. And yes Ruth, I will "Come back". Most definitely.
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