Disappointments & Annoyances

There are lots of things that can contribute to making a bad day. I am beginning to be really frustrated by the level of congestion found in driving in Toronto. And the driving-habits of many, sadly, need attention that few seem willing to give.

There are spring bumps, pavement irregularities and pot-holes that rattle the under-carriage of my auto, not to mention my own fillings. It's the beginning of the detour season and soon helpful flagman and concrete barriers will signal another chapter of the never-ending-story that is the improvement and widening of some areas of the 401, throughout the city.

In my own life, disappointment, the soon-passing of my father, the letdown of some relationships - or their simple failure to bloom as promised, the normal ups and downs, challenges and setbacks of living, get my attention. As if we should be surprised that some days do not go as planned, a few destinations seem more and more distant, and something we have long feared has finally come to us.

I am torn between living life with as much gusto and excellence as possible and coming to a point where if something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly - yes, even badly, if it is now to be done at all.

Safari, Journey, walking along the Way of life - whatever one calls it, there are more turns and quirks and surprises than ever I had thought possible in younger years. I still like the surprises, twists and turns, for the most part - but my coping ability and resilience (not resistance) seem, sadly, oft to be waning.

But then I still strike out, aiming somewhere, still pressing forward 'toward the mark' (as St. Paul put it), which I suppose signals some kind - some measure, of faith, hope and even determination, still.

Keeping Vigil

The hours drag but the days are passing surprisingly and too quickly, as we keep vigil as a family in this time of my father's passing. Two weeks ago Dad was sent home for palliative care, to be kept comfortable only -with no further 'heroic' interventions to be given now. That he is still with us is sheer gift.

Yesterday, he managed to get down soup and chocolate pudding, and lots of jello. He 'surfaces' for even long moments, sometimes for an hour at a time, though he is mostly 'in and out' - groggy because of the morphine and other relaxant medications he receives every four hours.

The staff is attentive, caring, wonderful really.

We play old, favorite Gospel songs and hyms on the CD player by his bedside - hearing again the old, familiar sentiments, now more compelling in this awe-full context. Our family has sung, known, remembered and resonated with the words for decades now; most of the hymns no longer sung in our contemporary and cutting-edge worship services. They belong to another time, it is thought, and seem trite and even banal to many now. Yet, I am amazed how precious seem the words to us as we gather in these hours by Dad's bedside.

Today is his eighty-sixth birthday.

I am carried back, say, to when I was eight or nine years old age, and Dad is leading the Gospel song-time prior to the evening service at Freeman Gospel Tabernacle, Burlington. The strong and virile man waves his hands and urges the congregation to note well the words of the song. Depending on each's sentiment or teaching, we sing with gusto, or deep feeling, or in full assurance and hope, or in sheer wonder and praise for God's love and care . . .

In shady, cool pastures so rich and so sweet,

God leads His dear children along;

Where the water’s cool flow bathes the weary one’s feet,

God leads His dear children along.

Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright,

God leads His dear children along;

Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night,

God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,

Some through the fire, but all through the Blood;

Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,

In the night season and all the day long.

St. Patrick's + Two

Fermanaugh Monastery, Ireland

So I missed it by two days. It's a wonderful prayer anyway !

I offer Thee
Every flower that ever grew,
Every bird that every flew,
Every wind that ever blessed. Good God!

Every thunder rolling,
Every church bell tolling,
Every leaf and sod. Laudemus Te!

I offer Thee
Every wave that ever moved,
Every heart that ever loved,
Thee, thy Father's well- beloved. Dear Lord!

Every river dashing,
Every lightning flashing,
Like an angel's sword. Benedicimus Te!

I offer Thee
Every cloud that ever swept,
O'er the skies, and broke and wept,
In rain, and with the flowerets slept. My King!

Every communicant praising,
Every angel staying,
Before Thy throne to sing. Adoremus Te!

I offer Thee
Every flake of virgin snow,
Every spring of earth below,
Every human joy and woe. My Love!

O Lord ! And all Thy glorious
Self o'er death victorious,
Throned in heaven above. Glorificamus Te!

-- Ancient Irish Prayer

Some Thots for One's A-muse-ment

If we did all the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves. Thomas Edison

A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd. James Crook

Determine that the thing can and shall be done, and then we shall find the way. Abraham Lincoln

The big shots are only the little shots who keep shooting. Christopher Morley

We cannot do everything at once, but we can do something at once. Coolidge

Don't let life discourage you; everyone who got where he is had to begin where he was. Richard Evans

Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow. Helen Keller

What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything? Vincent Van Gogh

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. Theodore Roosevelt

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. Eleanor Roosevelt

I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble. Helen Keller

Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work. Edison

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to come what they are capable of being. Goethe

Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up. Thomas Edison

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain. Dolly Parton

Eighty percent of success is showing up. Woody Allen

Well done is better than well said. Benjamin Franklin

Try not to become a man of success, but rather a man of value. Albert Einstein

The highest reward for a man's toil is not what he gets for it, but what he becomes by it. John Ruskin

Each handicap is like a hurdle in a steeplechase, and when you ride up to it, if you throw your heart over, the horse will go along too. Lawrence Bixby

When I was a young man, I observed that nine out of ten things I did were failures. I didn't want to be a failure, so I did ten times more work. George Bernard Shaw

Example is not the main thing in influencing others, it's the only thing. Albert Schweitzer

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt

It's never crowded along the "extra mile." Napoleon Hill

Life is on the wire. All the rest is waiting around. Karl Wallenda

When we do the best that we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another. Helen Keller

Aerodynamically speaking, the design of the bumblebee is a disaster. Too much body weight. Too little wing span. Just can't fly. But it does.

A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist. Louis Nizer

There are no shortcuts to any place worth going. Beverly Sills

We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone. Dr. Loretta Scott

Catch on fire with enthusiasm, and people will come for miles to watch you burn. John Wesley

If we do not change our direction, we are likely to end up where we are headed. Chinese proverb

He who has a strong enough why can bear almost any how. Nietzche

A diamond is a piece of coal that stuck to the job.

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

Why? Why not? Why not me? Why not now?

To do the impossible, you must see the Invisible.

Dad's Dying

Last week the doctors sent my father home - or back to his retirement residence, where they could do palliative care for him.

A few hours, a few days perhaps, he had left to us. The next day Dad ate a partial breakfast, and lunch, and drank several times through the day. All of this after he'd not eaten or drunk much the previous week. The doctor at 'the home' was amazed, nonplussed. My father has wonderfully surprised us like this before.

Dad continues to surprise us. It could still be a few hours, a few days - each of which we receive as sheer gift. Mother, my sisters, myself - exhausted, gathered round, we try to carry on our work and other family responsibilities during this long goodbye.

Two years ago Dad had a 'brain-bleed' but after several medical setbacks and adventures seemed to have recovered mostly and returned to 'the manor' to continue his full retirement life there with my Mother. In following months, we did not know how much she was 'covering' for him as he was often awake , up and wandering in the night. Often she hardly slept for fear of what he might do, but didn't tell us. Stoicism, carrying on, making the best of it - all of the endearing and frustrating qualities of my Mom's side of the family are writ large in her.

A year ago Christmas, roughly, Dad had another 'bleed' and since that time has been in another world, another time. I have been sometimes his brother, his father, and sometimes myself to him. My mother has been 'Mary' as at present, or sometimes a sister or a visiting friend while he waits for the Mary of younger years, of another day and time, to come and visit. Sometimes in talking with Dad he reports an earlier visit that day from his Dad and Mom. Milking this morning in the barn, ploughing in the afternoon - helping his Dad with chores. They've just left; I've just missed them.

Grandpa died in Novemember of 1967 and Grandma in November, 1976; buried on her birthday. I've always hated November.

Dad has been slowly deteriorating, or perhaps accelerating in his body's decine since this Christmas past. Dehydrated, his blood-quality failing, he was ambulanced to hospital for fluid drip and this time received a transfusion of 3 bags of blood. Last week his colour so palid, yellow, I too thought we'd not have him with us much longer. But now again his colour is better, though he sleeps most of the time.

Two pastors came to see him when I was visiting two days ago. One the beloved pastor of the Christian retirement centre where Dad lives; the other also a well-loved associate pastor from Dad's church. Both quoted from the 23rd Psalm; Dad gave little indication he knew they were present. After they'd gone, perhaps an hour later, Dad said several times without really 'surfacing' . . . 'oh, going through the Valley; going through the Valley . . .' in reference to his own knowing of his situation and echoing the Scriptures' promise and hope: 'Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me . . .'

And a little later: 'Only trust Him, oh . . . only trust Him . . . ' and then 'O trust in Jesus, O trust in Jesus' - or perhaps it was 'Oh, I'm trusting Jesus . . .'

Such precious gifts and memories and example of faith and hope for all of us, as we are, with Dad, camped in and passing through this Valley. These words will linger with us, my mother especially, when Dad is finally gathered at last in to the Bright Country.

In the room where I dress each morning there are two huge oval individual portrait-photos of Dad's parents - Annie Green and Gordon Barber, taken at the time of their engagement, I think. They look down at me as if to say: 'Take good care of our boy . . .' And I look back into their eyes and think to them the words: 'We will. And, he'll be Home to be with you again, soon.'