This day after the first day of summer, I am feeling full of life in Mark’s Den. As I look out at the Cornfield, I have a sense that rather than nearing my time to cross the river, I still have miles to go before I sleep.
If the doctor is right, by November I will be saying farewell to family and friends. If I go by the sensation coursing through my body and mind, God has not yet finished preparing my mansion.
Yes, I realize there will be good days and bad days. There will be great weeks and not so great weeks. I also know that none of us know God’s timetable.
How many times have we read or heard stories of people the doctors had given a time limit to be dismissed until months, years later?
I can say with Paul, “For me to live is Christ, but to die is gain.”
The other side of my reality is that as long as I remain seated, I feel fantastic. Yet, if I get up to move around – even with my oxygen – my energy, my zip is shot almost immediately. But I am not ready to be a vegetable.
I am going to continue to spread my roots, streaming out and exploring new territory.
The month of June is clickety-clacking at fast pace toward the depot. More than half the month is already left behind in the dust.
The third full week of the month has begun. I continue to be close to normal for me. I still have to keep the oxygen on most of the day and all night, but I have definitely improved over the condition I was in back in May.
More seasonable temperature is in store today here in the Cornfield. The July hotter days may be over at least for a few days.
My sweet daughter-in-law Hailey and youngest son Kevin have set up a Go Fund Me page to help out with the extra expenses with my condition being what it is these days.
The third Sunday in June is celebrated as Father’s Day in the US of A. For me being a son, a father and a grandfather, each Father’s Day is a day of joy with a tinge of sadness.
The five happiest days of my life are:
February 21, 1979 – the day my oldest son, David, was born
November 29, 1989 – the day my youngest son, Kevin, was born
February 6, 2007 – the day my granddaughter, Dylan, was born
September 20, 2012 – the day my second granddaughter, Alaina, was born.
December 9, 2014 – the day my third granddaughter, Amelia, was born.
As a child, I was always trying to please my Father. I would try to emulate him. I would make sure no matter how often we moved and how many schools I attended in one year, my grades would remain at the top of the class.
Always striving to obtain approval.
Yet, it seems that approval never came.
On Father’s Day I would try and find the right card, get the right gift. I would get an obligatory, “Thanks for the card and gift, Mark.” Not much more as he would set the card, the gift aside.
During the past couple of years the relationship with my Dad has been better than ever. We have become much closer.
Now that I have been given, by the doctor, about six months to live, what once was divisive has become a stone upon which to build a bridge.
The last month or so, Dad has been there of which I am greatly appreciative.
At 81 he is still going strong. He is still working. He is still striving and winning his own race along the road to eternity.
To my Father, I wish the best this Sunday on Father’s Day, 2017.
I love you, always have, always will.
Kev is a thousand miles away in Austin. Dave and my granddaughters are one hundred miles away in the Cornfield.
Father’s Day will be another Sunday.
From Mark’s Den, to every father out there, remember the best joys in life are not the cards or the things, but it is having the love of your children.
For the majority of my life, here in Indiana, your license plate expired at the end of the month list on the sticker on the tag. But a few years ago that changed. Now there is a specified date on the sticker for the plate to expire.
Susie and Dad sent me a text yesterday to inquire if I had renewed my vehicle registration yet. I answered that I had not. I then sent Iohn out to see what day the plate renewal was due.
Imagine my astonishment to learn today is the last day. Unlike years before, I had forgot about the specified date. I knew it was this month as it is for everyone whose last name begins with I.
Thus a scramble ensued. Mom agreed to loan me what I needed to get the plate. She met Iohn and I at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles (BMV) this morning.
On a side note, this was the first trip out of Mark’s Den since May 9th when the doctor gave me the news of my pending demise. I weathered the trip well.
Instead of one of the standup portables on a roller, Iohn had my old small portable air canister. I asked if he changed it and he said he had not. Iohn went on to say the canister was still half full.
On the way back from the BMV in Sullivan, Iohn decided to drive up to Farmersburg and drive back to Hymera through the country. After turning onto Miner Road off of Sawmill I realized no air was flowing from the canister.
Sure enough it was empty. So for the next 10 miles through the country side I was without air until I got back to the Den. I did not go inside immediately. I sat on the lawn chair outside my door. Iohn brought me my tube connected to the concentrator.
Chooey came out to welcome me home and take care of business. Iohn put Frankie on a leash per my request. I sat holding the leash as Frankie romped around the yard and took care of his business.
All of this threw me late posting today.
Thunderstorms are on the horizon. Other storms passed through overnight.
That’s the way it is this Thursday in the Cornfield.
This beautiful Hump Day morning in the Cornfield found tranquility shattered as the news and views of a shooting in Alexandria, Virginia at a baseball practice for Congressional Republicans ahead of tomorrow night’s charity game against Congressional Democrats when a gunman from Illinois opened fire shooting four, including the House Republican Whip Steve Scalise.
What began like any other day turned into outrage and horror. Kev and Hailey made the flight back to Austin, Texas without incident on Tuesday. I am sure this made Frye very happy.
As the report on CNN played in the background, Mom stopped by with leftovers from Sunday. She brought chicken and noodles and more macaroni salad. My great-nephew, Chevy, son of Chance, came with Mom for the visit.
In case you are wondering about the eats at the Ivy Sprouts Gathering, have a gandering. Realize this is not all we had.