My Friend Tibb

  

I've known Tibb for about 10 years. She and Robert moved to Bushfork in October 2017. I noticed that for about a week after they moved in, the builder still had not removed the porta potty in front of their house, so I called the builder to complain, and that’s how I met the Grays. 😊

Tibb came by my house a few times in those early years. She loved the teapot wind chime hanging in my yard and asked me to show her how to make them. Over a few visits, she made three—one for herself and one for each of her two daughters. I learned that Tibb has a strong sense of color and style, with definite likes and dislikes. Back then, she was a charge nurse on the third shift, so we didn’t see each other much. I’d usually run into her when I was out walking Missy and she was in the yard with her three grandchildren. I’d stop by, and we’d chat on her front porch for a while. We shared that easygoing friendship for seven or eight years.

Fast forward to the fall of 2023, Tibb underwent major surgery and stayed at a rehabilitation facility for about 30 days. I visited her a few times there and again after she returned home. Then, in February 2024, she received a diagnosis that would change her life. Tibb is unable to move anything below her neck except for the top of her right foot. She moves the top of her foot to activate a mouse-like device which operates a screen/laptop device. As her vocal cords weakened, speaking became more difficult until she could no longer communicate verbally. 

During this season of Tibb’s life, she’s been surrounded by the support of her husband, family, friends, and a special group of Hope Church volunteers. Living just two houses down from Tibb and Robert, I visit her often and have come to know the Hospice care team, the family, and the volunteers—some of whom I am now blessed to call friends too.  From the very start of her diagnosis, I spent so much time with her that I noticed every gradual change, and we formed a special, deep bond through simple eye movements, glances, and nods. She taught me how she needs to be positioned in her chair and how to make the small adjustments to keep her comfortable. 

        

Tibb has two cats, Roberta and Piper. They are sweet cats and Tibb absolutely adores them. At first, they were shy, and I barely saw them, but now they greet me every time I visit. Roberta has this quirky habit of licking my elbow or forearm, while Piper insists on sitting or lying on my phone no matter where I place it. Tibb loves watching every forensic, crime, emergency and rescue show on TV.  I always turn away from the gory parts, but Tibb just laughs at me and my delicateness and remains completely unfazed.

One day I came over and Tibb was watching a video on pimple popping, and I was completely grossed out and Tibb thought this was the funniest thing ever.  The more I went on about how disgusting it was, the more she laughed.  She likes these types of shows, and she enjoys how much I don't. 

The next day I came in, she was watching a YouTube video on pimple popping, again. Roberta came over and immediately started licking my left elbow, while Piper plopped her butt right on my phone beside me. With exaggerated and feigned frustration, I said, “This whole house is nuts—your cat licks my elbow, the other leaves butt marks on my phone, and their mom watches revolting abscesses oozing. Y’all are crazy.” Then I added after a moment, “And yet I keep coming back.” Tibb laughed and laughed, which got me laughing too, and we kept it going for a long time. "And yet you keep coming back" soon became another inside joke we share. 

I try to visit for a little while each day, and lately, we've been sitting together watching TV and having small "talk and type" conversations as the muscles in her foot allows.  I didn't know Tibb very well when she first moved in, but I am so blessed to have this relationship with her now.  Sometimes you treasure the moments spent talking with friends and family, and other times, when the bond is strong enough, you can be comfortable to sit together in silence.  My dear and treasured friend Tibb, you have blessed me, supported me and nurtured me in ways I can never fully repay. I love you, my friend, and you can be sure I’ll keep coming back.

Side note: Tibb has always been a huge supporter of my writing, and when I started again, I’d share each new blog with her. I told her I planned to write one about her, and she rewarded me with one of her signature "Tibb" smiles. I read this to her while it was still in draft form, and it made us both cry. There were a few edits I had to make but she is pleased with it. 💗

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Older than my Father

On January 8, 1999, just 60 days after Bernie Pech, my dad, turned 62 years old, he passed away during an Angioplasty procedure.  

I was 37 then, and 62 seemed so far away from where I was in life. Now, having lived beyond the age my dad reached, I am filled with a mix of emotions and reflections. 

Lately, I’ve been carrying a sense of unease and sadness I can’t quite explain. I’ve had a bad fall, bruised some ribs, aggravated my three compression fractures, we were dealing with Missy’s decline and eventual passing, and watching close friends face serious illnesses. But this sadness felt different somehow, and I couldn’t figure out why.

When I stopped to listen and pray, I realized what was causing my sadness—I am older than my dad ever was. I didn’t feel this way at 63, so why does turning 64—already past his age—feel so different? I've tried many times to get to the core of my feelings and what I have discovered is that my feelings had to do with me and my life. 

My father spent a great portion of his life dealing with inner turmoil.  It wasn't until his mid-fifties that he began making small but important changes. After retiring as a lieutenant colonel from the Army National Guard, he took a part time job at Barnes & Noble and found his niche. He loved reading and was surrounded by people, both young and old, who shared his passion for books, and he was in his element and making friends. 

One of the most significant changes in my father's life came when he began practicing Tai Chi. It brought him the inner peace and serenity he had been searching for. The discipline and patience of Tai Chi challenged him and also fulfilled him, and it was wonderful to see. As for me, it took me a while as well, but I found my joy in the Lord, who gave me the peace and contentment I had been missing for so long. 

I wish my father had lived longer to enjoy this newfound place of contentment. Lately, I have found myself thinking and worrying that I'm not living the years he never had in a way that truly honors him, and I'll always wish he'd had more time to experience his life in this new way. 

My father deserved a better daughter than I was back then. I wish he could have known the person I've become. Now that I'm older - older than he ever was - I realize what a blessing it is to be here and live a joy filled life. I just wish I could have shared that with him.

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