Meteor Shower

Hit the roads for your nearest field. Tonight will be the final night to view the annual Leonid Meteor shower at 12:40 a.m. So, grab your blankets and watch the phenomenon!

Conversation with Grandma

This from my magic red leather journal ~
Sunday ~ November 14, 2004

Her eyes, blue, filled with love, full of adventure, reflecting stories that I may never again have opportunity to hear of. Those eyes, after days of pain and frustration, years of suffering, remain intense with hope - opening only sporadically now as exhaustion arrests her utmost desires.

Upon arrival two days ago, they were alive and vibrant. Those eyes have always spoken to my soul even now when words are not an option. They are gentle and warm - a color of blue comparable to the hues of an early morning sky - soft, beautiful, comforting. And still the same sweet message pulsing through her tired gaze.

I have seen this look before. The messenger is seeking escape, understanding, permission. I can only hope that I am capable of acknowledging her wishes by offering a response of understanding and permission, knowing that I am incapable of escape.

Thinking on my physical departure, a day from now, catches in my throat. Saying goodbye is difficult. This is most likely the last earthly opportunity I will have to share with my dear grandmother. I marvel at how she holds on now. Her body does not work properly, but her spirit is alive, wanting so desperately to go home and get on with life as usual. Indeed, it pains me to see her in this dilapidated state. She has always been so active and now not even able to speak...my heart bleeds.

It is after midnight now. She sleeps deeply, perhaps for a short time, hugging tightly to her worn, yellow bunny and simultaneously squeezing my left hand.

She wants to go home. I wonder which one she is most ready for.

They say a picture speaks a thousand words. I hear her speaking a thousand words in every glance. Tomorrow the eyes will say goodbye. The soul beyond those eyes, dwelling deep within will say "I love you and I'll see you again."

Goodbye.

On the Road ~ Again

This evening I had the pleasure of driving through a third mountain range in the last month. Don't get to say that everyday, so I'm milking it for all it's worth.

We got a call this morning that Grandma had an "episode" in the night and actually had a Code 4, which means her heart stopped. Dad and I made plans to leave at 8:30. If any of you know my father, you will not be shocked to hear that we left at 10:30 instead.

Tim said that Dad creates free time for us.

It doesn't seem like anything to hop in the car and drive ten hours anymore. We got to the hospital in time to see my cousins and their children from Texas. Grandma looks pretty good considering what happened. She's been winking a lot because that is her only mode of communication.

She hasn't been able to speak since last Friday, but she managed to say "I love you" when I first arrived at her side. That made me smile.

But she stared into our eyes. As if to say goodbye. Aunt Paula noticed it too. I'd like to say that it doesn't mean anything, but Sara did it, Mom did it, and her dad did it - just before they died.

The doctors don't really know what to expect. Dad seems a bit unsure of what to do. Aunt Paula acts as though she's never had to deal with anything like this before. Grandpa is too tired to know left from right. So, I ended up asking most of the questions when we spoke with the nurse. She's probably wondering how a sixteen year old would know what to talk about in these conditions.

I guess if you could pray for us at all, just pray that she's comfortable and that the rest of us will be able to handle whatever may be coming. I don't know when we'll be coming home.

Thanks.

Acres

It's Veteran's Day. Do I actually know what that means? Not really, considering I'm not a Veteran and even though my Dad and grandfathers served they don't talk about it.

I was going to spend my afternoon at the Java Hut downtown. I am really searching for solace and quiet outside of our much-too-quiet home, but they closed early today. Because of Veteran's Day.

Tomorrow I begin work at 2nd Church of Christ's 2 x 2 Daycare. Subbing for Tiffany, actually. She is cramming for classes so we can go down and see Grandma over Thanksgiving. Doctors seem hopeful, but she's 80 years old and enduring a permanent feeding tube in her stomach, unable to walk, unable to talk. I wonder what the doctors are truly thinking.

So then I wonder what is happening to me. Seeking God in my circumstances, I come up short of answers. Listening and only hearing the hum of our furnace - I wonder at his silence. Is he being silent or am I being too loud?

Saturday evening I went to the Beef House with my good friend, Ruth. Ruth is one of those friends that would sacrifice anything to help another. After dinner we took a walk around the Covington park. I could see that she was aching to ask me about my "Mom" days. "How is it, Lindy? Does it get any easier? What is it like grieving now?" After a moment, I answered with this, "It feels like I'm grieving something that never happened." Five years without her voice. Five years without her touch. Five years without her advice, tears, hugs, laughter. Sometimes I think she never existed.

There are those I only joke with. There are those I am real with. The latter of those two would tell you that I have lost weight, lost my shine, appearing limp. And I don't know why. I have all I need. But maybe that's just it. Maybe God is wanting to give me more than I need, but today I don't feel worthy. I don't deserve it.

I'm waiting. Praying. Waiting. waiting. waiting.

Danville isn't THAT bad after all.

Tonight I witnessed one of the most amazing and most anticipated phenomenons of my life. Just moments ago I was standing among bent corn stalks, bouncing from the cold but mainly from my excitement, and watching as an Aurora Borealis - stretched as far as I could see - danced from shades of green to red above my head. The streaks curved into the sky and appeared to trail into infinity with the stars.

For those who may not be "into" the meteorological world - although I know if you hang around me long enough you will be drawn in to some degree - Aurora Borealis (Nothern Lights) and Aurora Australis (Southern Lights) are nightime light shows most commonly viewed in the extreme upper or lower hemispheres. These lights are caused by the sun reflecting off of glaciers. Definitely not something seen in Central Illinois on any given day.

It has been a dream of mine - literally recognized on my "Life To Do List" - to witness this awe-striking dance in the sky.

The could possibly be one of the best nights of my life.

"Just passing through."

Seems to be the best way to explain my sudden appearance in Lincoln. Short, sweet, and to the point - like me.

A lot has happened in the last few days. I haven't been nervous or scared, just sad. It was hard to leave Hannibal and even harder to say my goodbyes. For those of you in St. Louis, I had a great time seeing you the last month or so. It stinks that it happened so late.

As for Lincoln, it's the same. You aren't missing out on much, that's for sure. Ms. Pearl was speaking at Focus when I got here on Wednesday night! I was rather excited about that, so we connected and made plans for me to visit her in the ghetto later this month. I also saw an old friend who sort of fell off the face of the earth about a year ago. We talked for quite some time and may have mended some past hurts. Anyway, as difficult as my Wednesday truly was, there was lots of healing taking place.

My dad just called to announce that my grandmother (who lives in Arkansas) just had another stroke. She's had several through the years and can't walk and has difficulty speaking. Seems that this stroke has impared her speech altogether, but with rest they are hoping that she'll build strength and it will come back. Evidently, this one hasn't affected her limbs at all, which is good. I know this is really difficult for my dad, especially with the distance factor. So, prayers would be welcomed.

Tomorrow I go home. I will be back for a more adventurous post later.

focused

We woke up to a thick blanket of snow today. It made me want to play Christmas music.

I was tested this morning (everytime I say that I feel like a lab rat) at Focus on the Family. Supposedly Chrysta, the woman who set me up with everything, was supposed to check my scores privately, but she did so in front of me and I was even shocked with the outcome. They were quite impressed with my skills, as they should be....because I am Lindy Nardoni. Anyway, she was going to set up an interview for me. There used to be two full-time admin positions available. "Used to" being the operative phrase. They were filled late last week. So, with my phone number in hand, I suppose I will be called should anything else open.

I guess this means I'll be back in the Midwest tomorrow night.