Pastor Pete, I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and this memory of yours is especially poignant right now. Not just because it makes me think of Terry, but also because just a couple of weeks ago I lost my best friend from high school, who also had Parkinson’s. Fortunately I was able to travel to Gardiner, MT last September to reconnect with her. She had been diagnosed about 4 years prior, but when I was there, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong with her. Well, in December she got the diagnosis if Lewy Body Dementia, and on January 16 the doctor told her that it was progressing much faster than they had anticipated, and that there was nothing they could do. Her husband called me a few days later and said that she wasn't doing very well, falling a lot, hallucinations, problems with speech and swallowing. He thought she had maybe 2 months at the most, but I was still in denial. I called her daughter and asked her to check their April calendar to see if there would be a time i could come see her again. Her daughter said, to be honest, I don't think she'll make it till April. So I dropped everything and went the next week. When I got there, she was mostly sleeping, but she did wake up to recognize me, and I actually got a picture of the two of us. I came home on February 22, and she passed away February 23 at 12:15 am. So I barely made it in time to tell her goodbye and that I loved her.
So all this to say, as you alluded to, all of those remembrances of loss and sadness have been bubbling up again for me. It's bittersweet to have all those memories come back. And I feel your pain.
Other than that, I hope you are doing well. I certainly reflect often on the time that we had together at Our Savior.
Thank you for sharing your experience with how life goes on, even though we, as your friend is doing now, can hardly breathe. After MaryAnn died, I remember in your writings how you made that decision that you were going to live - and what a life you've lived since then!!
Thanks for sharing all your memories! I grew up in that same church and remember all of those beautiful people and their children, who were also my friends, so well. I never realized that all of you travelled together so often, such great memories you all had. I do remember that bus ride from Colorado, too. I never realized how close we were to a more serious accident. Hats off to all of the adults from keeping that knowledge from us young people so we were not more scared by it. Sad to learn about Carol, I would think it is very hard on John. Love to you.
That spinning bus is a vivid memory, seeing a car crash into the bus right under our window and seeing that the driver had been injured when his face slammed against his windshield, and then getting off the bus and seeing the bus that was fully loaded with people and luggage leaning against the guard rail beyond which was a deep valley into which we would have rolled if the guard rail had not held. Mary Ann and I had been on a shuttle bus that morning that slipped off the road, requiring us to get off the bus and get on another one to get to the slope. It was a two bus accident day!
It is all about gratitude, isn't it. We love people and though the relationship ends with their death, it does not actually end, not really. A good swimmming friend named Barb died last year and I can still see us entering into the outdoor pool in dark before work - remembering the day she ran face first into a dead mouse and would not stop screaming or jumping up and down in the swim lane until the fully dressed coach got a cup and got in the water to fish out the poor mouse. We remember the fun and funny times and experience them in ways that continue to bring us joy.
You remind me, Peter, of Henri Nowen's saying in his book "Can you drink the cup?" that we we may only drink in joy from the cup of life when we are willing to drink in the sadness with it.
Pastor Pete, I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and this memory of yours is especially poignant right now. Not just because it makes me think of Terry, but also because just a couple of weeks ago I lost my best friend from high school, who also had Parkinson’s. Fortunately I was able to travel to Gardiner, MT last September to reconnect with her. She had been diagnosed about 4 years prior, but when I was there, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong with her. Well, in December she got the diagnosis if Lewy Body Dementia, and on January 16 the doctor told her that it was progressing much faster than they had anticipated, and that there was nothing they could do. Her husband called me a few days later and said that she wasn't doing very well, falling a lot, hallucinations, problems with speech and swallowing. He thought she had maybe 2 months at the most, but I was still in denial. I called her daughter and asked her to check their April calendar to see if there would be a time i could come see her again. Her daughter said, to be honest, I don't think she'll make it till April. So I dropped everything and went the next week. When I got there, she was mostly sleeping, but she did wake up to recognize me, and I actually got a picture of the two of us. I came home on February 22, and she passed away February 23 at 12:15 am. So I barely made it in time to tell her goodbye and that I loved her.
So all this to say, as you alluded to, all of those remembrances of loss and sadness have been bubbling up again for me. It's bittersweet to have all those memories come back. And I feel your pain.
Other than that, I hope you are doing well. I certainly reflect often on the time that we had together at Our Savior.
Blessings!
Cindra
Thank you for sharing your experience with how life goes on, even though we, as your friend is doing now, can hardly breathe. After MaryAnn died, I remember in your writings how you made that decision that you were going to live - and what a life you've lived since then!!
You said it!!
Thanks for sharing all your memories! I grew up in that same church and remember all of those beautiful people and their children, who were also my friends, so well. I never realized that all of you travelled together so often, such great memories you all had. I do remember that bus ride from Colorado, too. I never realized how close we were to a more serious accident. Hats off to all of the adults from keeping that knowledge from us young people so we were not more scared by it. Sad to learn about Carol, I would think it is very hard on John. Love to you.
That spinning bus is a vivid memory, seeing a car crash into the bus right under our window and seeing that the driver had been injured when his face slammed against his windshield, and then getting off the bus and seeing the bus that was fully loaded with people and luggage leaning against the guard rail beyond which was a deep valley into which we would have rolled if the guard rail had not held. Mary Ann and I had been on a shuttle bus that morning that slipped off the road, requiring us to get off the bus and get on another one to get to the slope. It was a two bus accident day!
It is all about gratitude, isn't it. We love people and though the relationship ends with their death, it does not actually end, not really. A good swimmming friend named Barb died last year and I can still see us entering into the outdoor pool in dark before work - remembering the day she ran face first into a dead mouse and would not stop screaming or jumping up and down in the swim lane until the fully dressed coach got a cup and got in the water to fish out the poor mouse. We remember the fun and funny times and experience them in ways that continue to bring us joy.
You remind me, Peter, of Henri Nowen's saying in his book "Can you drink the cup?" that we we may only drink in joy from the cup of life when we are willing to drink in the sadness with it.
The mouse story is a great one! Particularly at this time in life, losing friends is just part of the deal.