Month: March 2006

  • Dianna Locke just sent me the following email that I would like to share with you.  I wish I had the glory and grace of Joseph Scriven:


    I just read this story in a WMU email and was so touched I wanted to share it with you.

     

    Joseph Scriven had a heart for God.  His main desire in life was to serve  his Savior.  I am impressed with Scriven because he did not have to be a "big shot," or take credit for thoughtful deeds.  It was said that, wood for a widow was needed, he cut it.  When someone was too poor to pay, he helped financially.

     

    Joseph Scriven, while he was a good man, was also a man who knew great sorrow in life.  Shortly before their wedding day, his fiancee drowned in a terrible accident.  His second wife suffered a chill while swimming and, three years later, died.  Even though he had great sorrows, God taught him through his experience and gave him a heart of wonder and warmth and willingness to serve others. 

     

    As his mother was dying Joseph wanted to comfort her.  He wrote a hymn for her, never intending to share it with anyone else.  However, a neighbor saw the hymn and asked Joseph if he had written it.  Joseph, in his own humble way, replied, "The Lord and I did it between us."  Some of you are wondering exactly who Joseph was and what hymn he wrote.  Well, it goes like this:

     

        What a friend we have in Jesus,

        All our sins and griefs to bear,

        What a privilege to carry

        Everything to God in prayer.

        Oh what peace we often forfeit,

        Oh, what needless pain we bear,

        All because we do not carry

        Everything to God in prayer.

     

    Thank you, Dianna.  I needed that.

  • I just saw the story that Kirby Puckett died today at 44 from his stroke suffered yesterday.  His family is in my prayers.  I know how horrible the nightmare of the last couple of days will have been for them  When I heard how bad the stroke had been (an aneurysm that required extensive emergency surgery), I had serious doubts that he would survive, just as I had for Ariel Sharon when he suffered his stroke. 


    Lorena was doing well tonight.  Apparently Papá had a better day today than he has had in quite a while.  When asked if it had been a good day, Angie replied that it had been another day, a better day.  Lorena laughed quite a bit, and there were fewer tears than there have been for awhile.  She IS getting better!!!  Her miracle continues.  To God be the glory. 

  • Michael hanging on here in Stephenville.  Lya did not go to school today because she is sick.  She seems to have some sort of virus, so I have been feeding her Tylenol for the fever and chills.  She has thrown up a couple of times but only because she gets to coughing so that she gags herself.  Hopefully, we will be able to get some sleep tonight, and she will be able to go to school tomorrow.  I know that she is ready for a change in scenery and some excitement in her life -- and to feel better.  I am exhausted.


    We will try to call Lorena later to see how she is doing.  Since we have not heard anything, I am sure her father is still okay.  I find myself thinking so much of her and hurting for her.  Yesterday, though, the good thing was that she was more animated and "talkative" than she has probably ever been at any other time since the stroke.  It was the first time that she has ever spelled during one of our phone calls, so that is fantastic!!!'


    My cousin Jean Gilliam made the following comment on my "Southernisms" post, and I have to post it here because it is such a perfect illustration of what the post was all about.  The "Aunt Flossie" referred to was my paternal grandmother, Flossie Jane Jones Thomas.  [Her mother died when she was three, and she could still remember the cold winter day she watched the wagon bearing her mother's coffin bouncing down the old rocky road to Lost Creek then up the other side with the team straining and the iron wagon wheels bouncing up the rough road up the incline to Lost Creek Cemetery.  The coffin was cushioned on a bed of wood shavings, and as the wagon bumped and banged it way up the steep slope out of Lost Creek, the coffin began bouncing out of the wagon and quickly had to be rescued and secured by some of the men before it literally dumped my great grandmother's body out into the road.]  Anyway, here is Jean's comment: 


    "Just down the road"..Michael --one time we went to the Jones family reunion in Brownwood with my mom and dad.  We stopped at Aunt Flossie's and visited some and she told us she would take us "Just down the road a piece" to Lost Creek, May, Uncle Jim Jones old home place, by Captain Jenkins property....Granny Palmer's old home place, her daddy's old farm house out in the country and the rock house that George and she lived in.  My husband was driving my dad's Suburban, and said he bet he drove "Just down the road a piece" for fifty miles.  We laugh about  that drive through Brown County with Aunt Flossie.  I am so glad that I knew her.  [Actually, the ride "just down the road a piece" that Jean describes would probably have been closer to 60 miles.]

  • Sunday, March 5, 2006

    We finally got through to Lorena tonight.  We had tried repeatedly, but she was either out on an excursion, in therapy or otherwise indisposed, or we could not get through on the telephone.  Tonight when we finally were able to make connection with her, Angie was there, so we had a really good talk.  In fact, we called back three times so that Lorena could spell some things out to Angie for Angie to tell us.  Things are not going well there in Tepic.  Papá is very ill, and Angie does not hold out much hope for him.  Judging by what she said, I do not expect him to make it through the week.  The timing is more than ironic in that Mamá died March 3 of last year and Lorena suffered her stroke March 9, 2004 -- and those were by far the most traumatic events in Papá's life. 


    He is a nonagenarian with heart trouble and diabetes.  Lorena's stroke was a terrible blow for him.  The loss then, of Mamá (his dulce), was cataclysmic.  Since she died, he has been depressed and talks openly of wanting to sleep so that he can see her again in his dreams.  He views death as the escape from this world that it is.  In fact, knowing that he will be reunited with Mamá, he welcomes death.  Lorena is the eleventh of twelve children, and his oldest child is in her seventies -- and there had been no real trauma in the family until Lorena's stroke -- so they had lived a blessed existence.  There had been hardship in their lives as there is in every life, but nothing major until Lorena's illness turned our worlds upside down.


    Papá is an incredible man, and I will write more about him later.  I just find it very ironic that his father was an ardent communist who refused Last Rites and was buried in a hammer-and-sickle-flag-draped coffin with all rites accorded to a loyal communist.  Papá, on the other hand, is the most capitalistic (in every positive aspect) man that I have ever known, and he is truly amazing.  He often joked that he actually ran an exchange program between Mexico and the US.  His daughters Martha and Angie, like Lorena, married American citizens, became U.S. citizens, and lived in the U.S.  (Angie and Rick have now retired in Tepic.)  His sons Alfonso, Rafael, and Ramón also married U.S. citizens.  Most of his grandchildren, thanks to Susan's (Alfonso's wife's) English classes, speak beautiful English.  He has produced a remarkable family, and his dynasty is incredible. 


    Needless to say, Lorena is very concerned about her father.  She was a Daddy's girl without apology.  In fact, she considered him to be not only her inspiration but also the greatest person alive.  When he would have problems before her stroke, she would rush down to help care for him and would actually ramrod all the care given him.  Now, for the past two years, she has only been able to watch him decline without being able to talk to him, to care for him, or even to be able to tell him she loves him.  He has lived a long, wonderful life, and when he passes I shall celebrate his reunion with Mamá -- but, having said that, I hurt so badly for Lorena, for hers, once again in this case, truly is a fate worse than death...


    I know there is a plan for all this.  I trust that one day I will know what that plan was.  I am sure that I will be astounded by the glory of that plan.  However, right now I can only know the emptiness, the sadness, and the pain that I feel for Lorena and for her absence from our lives.


    On a more positive note, she sounded much more energetic today, and she did some wonderful laughing, especially at some of Lya's antics.  Lya is so wonderfully wise and preternaturally intuitive of the feelings of others.  She should be a healer of some sort.  Time and again, when Lorena would start crying as Angie would talk for her and tell us of her father's condition, Lya would say something hilarious and perfectly pitched to the conversation that would crack us all up.  [Lya also takes after Lorena in that she loves her Abuelito (Grandfather).  Rainey and Stephanie love him, but Lya dotes on him, so it was interesting to see her comforting Mommy even as I know she had to be hurting inside.]


    Lya has spent the day in bed today.  She had fever and chills last night, so she slept with me.  About 2:00 a.m., her fever broke -- and she literally drenched the bed in sweat.  We changed the sheets, dried her off and changed her bed clothes, and tried to make the rest of the night.  I slept fitfully, but Lya got up early, rearing to go.  She did well until about 9:00 a.m. when she came to me burning up with fever again.  I babied her all day as she would sleep awhile, her fever would break, she would be up awhile, and the fever would return.  Hopefully, she will be well tomorrow for school.


    Life goes on at the hacienda.  Lorena's miracle continues through her sadness.  To God be the glory, and in Him lies all our faith and hope.  I can't wait for the "happily ever after" part...  Thank you for your prayers and support...

  • Several of you have asked about the difference between a conniption and a hissy, so I added some explanation in the "Southerners" post.


    1.) Only a true Southerner knows the difference between a hissie [hissy] fit and a conniption, and that you don't "HAVE" them, -- you "PITCH" 
    them. 
    [Several of you have emailed, and Mrs.Tiggy_Winkle has asked in a comment, what the difference in a hissie (fit) and a conniption (fit) is.  Both of the terms may be used with or without the word "fit".  The difference is in magnitude and type of emotion.  A conniption (fit) is a fit of violent emotion such as anger or panic (a fit of apoplexy), whereas a hissie (fit) is a temper tantrum, usually indicating a petty or trite tantrum.  In this area of Texas, we usually "throw" our fits although many of the younger folks now "have" their fits.  Actually, many of the younger folks now "have a cow" as in, "I know I have a twenty pound barbell stuck through my nose, Mama, and you can't understand me because of the one through my tongue, but don't have a cow."  In olden times [now THERE is another good Southern term], Mama would be pitching a conniption.  No, I take that back.  Kiddo would be pitching a hissie because Mama wouldn't allow the mutilation -- but only for a moment...  Then kiddo would be reminded of why you don't throw a hissy in front of Mama... (LOL)] 

  • True Southener

    Herb Wooten sent me the following list, and it is wonderful. Lorena will enjoy this because she had become a Southerner with a Mexican accent who could pick and cook a mess of collards, poke salat, black-eyed-peas, or catfish with the best of them and who (after laughing at the colloquialisms initially) adopted those wonderful terms "y'all" and "fixin' to" and used them like a native.  [She was also a master of the chicken fried steak with gravy and made-from-scratch biscuits.]  She had to learn to be a Southerner, of course, but she was a fast learner.  Folks still laugh about her encounter, shortly after we moved to Texas from Germany, in a TSU class when the professor used the word "redneck", and Lorena, new to Texas, asked what a redneck was.  A fellow student pointed at another student, laughed, and said, "He is a redneck!" whereupon Lorena got out of her desk and went over to inspect the other student's neck to the vast amusement of her classmates.   But she now knows exactly what a redneck is, what poor (and, yes, here our "r"s are hard) white trash is, and she has a handwritten invitation to join the KKK.  [I never received an invite, but I always teased her that she should have gone down to ask about joining.  I think that would have been a hoot with her accent...]



     

     Southernisms
     
      1.) Only a true Southerner knows the difference between a hissie [hissy] fit

      and a conniption, and that you don't "HAVE" them, -- you "PITCH"
      them. 
    [Several of you have emailed, and Mrs.Tiggy_Winkle has asked in a comment, what the difference in a hissie (fit) and a conniption (fit) is.  Both of the terms may be used with or without the word "fit".  The difference is in magnitude and type of emotion.  A conniption (fit) is a fit of violent emotion sure as anger or panic, such as a fit of apoplexy, whereas a hissie (fit) is a temper tantrum, usually used for a petty or trite tantrum.  In this area of Texas, we usually "throw" our fits although many of the younger folks now "have" their fits.  Actually, many of the younger folks now "have a cow" as in, "I know I have a twenty pound barbell stuck through my nose, Mama, and you can't understand me because of the one through my tongue, but don't have a cow.] 
     
      2.) Only a true Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens,
      turnip greens,peas, beans, etc. make up "a mess."
     
      3.) Only a true Southerner can show or point out to you the general
      direction of "yonder." 
    [I won't get into the intricacies of "over yonder", "over yonder a little ways", "over yonder
    a ways", or "way over yonder."  It could also be "over yonder a piece" or "over yonder a little piece."]
     
      4.) Only a true Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is - as

      in: "Going to town, be back directly."  [This was a favorite idiom of my Grandma Thomas, and until I learned better in school, I thought it was it was spelled "dreckly" as in "I'll do it dreckly" or "We'll be there dreckly."  (Of course, I also knew that "far place" was where we built a "far" when the weather go cold, and the smoke went out the chimbley.)]
     
      5.) All true Southerners, even babies, know that "Gimme some sugar"
      is not a request for the white, granular, sweet substance that sits
      in a pretty little bowl on the middle of the table. 
    ["Sugar" can be either singular or plural, by the way, so we and babies were always exchanging "sugars."  "Sugar" was lovin', specifically a kiss, so kisses were "sugars".]
     
      6.) All true Southerners know exactly when "by and by" is.
       They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.  
    [Actually, it is never "by and by", but, rather, it is "by 'n' by", usually to the point of being "bine by".]
     
      7.) Only a true Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture

      of solace for a neighbor who's got trouble is a plate of hot fried
      chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. (If the neighbor's
      trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana
      puddin'!) 
    [I grew up helping to deliver food to all the neighbors every time there was a death, a major illness or injury, a birth, or any kind of other major event in their family.  The girls did not have to cook here for months after Lorena's stroke, with loads of banana puddin' included in those deliveries, and folks still occasionally bring food by.  (Thank you, Diana Locke.)  One little correction, though; true Southerners don't eat potato salad.  We eat "tater salad" .]

     
      8.) Only true Southerners grow up knowing the difference between
      "right near" and "a right far piece." They also know that "just down

      the road" can be 1 mile or 20.  [Actually, it's usually a "fur piece", but PETA don't mind none.  "Far" is usually in the "far place", remember, unless it's a "wald far".]
     
      9.) Only a true Southerner both knows and understands the difference

      between a redneck, a good ol' boy, and po' white trash.
     
      10.) No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the
      flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn. 
    [And he must assume that the car with no turn signal on will .]
     
      11.) A true Southerner knows that "fixin'" can be used as a noun, a
      verb, or an adverb. 
    [The noun form is usually "fixin's" as in, "I'd like a hamburger with all the fixin's."  Often the verb form is actually "a-fixin'" as in, "We better bring the clothes in 'cause it's a-fixin' to rain."]
     
      12.) Only a true Southerner knows that the term "booger" can be a
      resident of the nose, a descriptive [as in "that ol' booger"], a
      first name (usually a nickname), or something that jumps out at you in the dark and scares
    you senseless.  [Quite often, the latter is a "booger bear.]
     
      13.) Only true Southerners make friends while standing in lines. We
      don't do "queues"; we do "lines," and when we're "in line," we talk
      to everybody!
     
      14.) Put 100 true Southerners in a room, and half of them will
      discover they're related, even if only by marriage. 
    [And the ones that aren't related will all know kinfolks of the others.]
     
      15.) True Southerners never refer to one person as "y'all." 
    ["You" is always singular.  "Y'all" is plural.  If you really want to distinguish between groups or to express emphasis to a group, the proper term is "all y'all" or "all o' y'all" or "y'all all" as in "Y'all all git on outta here now and fight that there wald far" or "All y'all who brung bananer puddin' remember to gitcher dishes."]
     
      16.) True Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.  
    (I will date myself here, but I was six years old or so the first time a neighbor came by selling the periodical (newspaper?  magazine?) Grit.  It was just a newspaper-like periodical, but I thought it must be about food...]
     
      17.) Every true Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits,
      and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that redeye gravy is also a
      breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast
      food.
     
      18.) When you hear someone say, "Well, I caught myself lookin' .. ,"

      you know you are in the presence of a genuine Southerner!
     
      19.) Only true Southerners say "sweet tea" and "sweet milk." Sweet
      tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it - we do not like our

      tea unsweetened. "Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.  [As I was growing up, we always had "milk cows" [as opposed to beef cattle which one would never milk] (We never had "milch cows" as agricultural literature always refers to them.)  Sometimes, if the cows ate certain plants, a strong, unpleasant taste would be imparted to the milk so that the mild would be "weedy."  Then, when the milk started to go bad, it would be "blinky".  "Sweet milk" was used to denote fresh whole or skimmed milk as opposed to either "clabber" or, better yet, as far as I was concerned, buttermilk (which always had flecks of real butter in it from the churning.)  Bought buttermilk today is much more like clabber than it is to real buttermilk.  It has been a coon's age since I have had real buttermilk.  One of my father's favorite suppers (eaten at the end of the day, because dinner was eaten at noon) was [pan-fried] cornbread and sweet milk.]
     
      20.) And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at
      little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway. You just say,
      "Bless her heart" and go your own way. 
    [Often aspects of the harvest would be involved in this benediction as in "Bless her little pea-pickin' heart," or "Bless his little cotton-pickin' soul."

  • Nony Godwin has drawn my attention to the following:


    A living Will Is Important To Relationships!


    A man and his wife were sitting in the living room and he said to her, "Just so you know, I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine, and living off fluids from a bottle.  If that ever
    happens to me, just pull the plug."

    His wife got up, unplugged the TV, and threw out all of his beer.

  •  

    Michael here in Stephenville .  We tried to talk to Lorena today, but, upon calling and reaching Lupita in the factory, we learned that Lorena and her father were on a drive.  As disappointing as it is not to be able to talk to her when we want, it is still heart- warming and astoundingly miraculous for her to be able to be taken out on excursions.  She lived so long staring at the ceiling or the same walls, hour after hour after hour, depending on how she was turned because she could not move her head.  I know how wonderfully liberating these drives are for her, and I rejoice with her and for her.  We will simply try calling again later.


    Several new folks have stopped by the blog here and asked about Lorena , so I will recap our situation a bit.  On 9 March 2004, she had a massive brainstem stroke and was initially Locked In (i.e. could use only her eyes with no other movement.)  The cognitive portion of her brain is completely unaffected, she simply could not get her body to do anything.  Completely unable to voluntarily move anything but her eyes, she was fed by PEG tube and breathed through a tracheotomy.  She was given no hope of recovery here in the States, so we flew her to a hospital in Mexico where she has made fantastic improvement.  She is still quadriplegic, but her stomach feeding tube has been removed and she is swallowing all her own food, her tracheotomy has been closed, and she is slowly regaining some other muscular use and control.  The vast majority of brainstem stroke victims expire quickly, so she is a living miracle at this stage, but we are working and praying for a complete recovery; hopefully, that is in God's plan.  We simply beg for your prayers for her.  We need Mommy back.  Rainey (18), Stephi (16), and Lya (13), and Dad (aged beyond measure...)


    Julie Thomas called this morning.  She passed her comps for her Masters of Nursing degree that she took earlier this week, so her feet are probably not even touching the ground today with that load of stress removed.  She is Lorena's age, so, understandably, she said that Lorena has been weighing heavily on her mind lately.  ( Lorena , of course, had just finished her MBA before she had her stroke.)   


    I had to run to Wal-Mart awhile ago, where, as usual, it took me a long time to do a little shopping because of being greeted by so many friends.  Sheila Johnson was handing out Hersey candy bar and Hersey's Kisses samples (of which she pressed upon me and incredible amount.)  I elicited a phenomenal blush from her by telling her that I was going to post on here that she gave me a bunch of Kisses in Wal-Mart (which, of course, is perfectly true!!!)  Those of you who know Sheila, please don't forget to ask her about this...  Ola Mae Brock had two reports for me.  Her granddaughter, Kimberly, daughter of Duane and Lynn Brock is getting married in Lampassas tonight, but she and Jake are not going to be able to go.  Jake fell yesterday, and, although it appears that nothing is broken, he is not able to be up because of being battered and bruised.  Everyone, of course, wanted to know how you were, Lorena.  You need to tell them (and reassure them) yourself.  Hurry up and get well!!!


    I have to share a Lynn Brock story here.  Lorena and I had many laughs over it.  Shortly after Duane and Lynn moved to Lampassas, we were passing through, so we stopped to call them up to see about coming by to visit with them.  Our call was answered by Lynn yelling, "Turn that light out and get in bed right now!!!  I am going to tell you again!!!  Go to sleep!!!"  I was taken aback for a moment until I realized that it was a recording.  I had to call them back to let Lorena hear their "greeting", and we left a message telling them to check their answering machine message.  An embarrassed Lynn called us up the next day and explained that a few days before she had had a really hard time getting the boys to go to bed, so she had exploded and given them the ultimatum.  She had not realized that they had been playing with the answering machine when she did it, and apparently it had caught her threat perfectly.


    Lorena will be back.  We have faith that she will be restored.  Her miracle continues.  To God be the glory.  Thank you all for your prayers and support.

  • Stephi said the "dead" students at Rocky Point Baptist Church did not get to be until about 2:00 a.m. last night (this morning?) and then they had to get up at 6:00 a.m.  She told me that she was really tired.  She went to bed early, so I came in in time to hear her tell her boyfriend on the telephone that she was too tired to go to sleep.  I asked her a question, which she promptly answered.  Then I asked her another question -- and received NO answer.  She was deeply asleep.


    Today was very difficult.  All the juniors and seniors at school watched the video of all of yesterday's activities.  Then several students and parents read their letters to each other.  (Stephi and I opted out of that.)  A mother from Dublin who lost her 17 year old daughter last year in an alcohol related accident was the guest speaker, and she understandably lost it a few times.  The assembly itself was extremely emotional.  Then, to top it off, after the main body of students was dismissed, the "victim" students and their parents exchanged their letters to each other, and most of us broke down then.  Stephi had not hugged me like that since immediately after I returned from staying with Lorena in Mexico the first time when Rainey and Lya were still living with Steve and Julie and Stephi had moved back here with me; occasionally we would just spontaneously hold each other and cry.


    Lorena is doing well.  Her miracle continues.  I daily expect to hear of some breakthrough in her condition.  I certainly pray for such.


    Just a note for her and you.  We had an extremely warm winter.  Then, last week it got COLD, and it stayed cold for almost two weeks.  Then, day before yesterday, we warmed up just a smidgen:  DFW set a record at 93º, Mineral Wells (north of us an hour) officially hit 97º, and Wichita Falls (north of Mineral Wells) officially recorded a high temperature of 98º.  I don't know exactly what our high was, but it was WARM!!!  Lya observed rather sardonically that we had skipped spring and had gone straight to summer.  I think she was right.  Then, today it was cold again.  Ah, Texas weather!!!


    Take care, and thank you all for your prayers.  Lorena will beat this...

  • We called Lorena tonight but received very little response from her.  Lya thinks that Mommy is just very tired.  I fear it is more than that.  This is the first anniversary of Lorena's mother's death, and I know that that must be heavy on Lorena's heart today.  Worst of all, she cannot talk about it with anyone, she cannot comfort her father, and, of course, she cannot even mourn with her family.


    Lya and I are here alone tonight, so I splurged and took her out to eat at the Mongolian grill where we both proceeded to stuff ourselves.  We definitely consumed our money's worth.  I will post more tomorrow, but I must warn you about the post that follows this one.  It was cathartic for me, but skip it unless you must read it.  I don't even know exactly why I wrote it, but I am glad I did.  Once again, it put Lorena's condition in proper perspective, and we really are blessed because she does have hope.  She really is a living miracle, and I think her miracle has only fractionally been realized.  To God be the glory.  Thank you for your prayers...


    By the way, Diana Locke brought us supper the other night as denoted on this blog, but I must also commend another contribution she made.  Her daughter must make very frequent business trips, so she takes Diana the small coffee packets, and Diana made a gift to us of a huge bag of those hotel coffees.  That might seem like an insignificant contribution, and Diana even apologized when she gave them to us as if we might be offended, but they have been marvelous!!!!  The girls and I have really enjoyed them.  Thank you, Diana!!!  Such seemingly trivial gestures can have huge ramifications.