Great Advice from Pastor Ruff

Rob Ruff is a Lutheran pastor at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minnesota. I read his recent contribution to KevinMD.com on preparing for death. Thoughtful, timely, and above all, comforting.

These are words highly recommended no matter who you are are where you are in life.He writes with something for everyone, even those who may consider themselves invincible.

Here's what he says....

I'm Not Ready

Although he's out of the hospital, my Dad is not doing well. He's weak. He looks tired. Today when I stopped by to see him, the usual sparkle in his eyes was gone. He was flat and clearly not feeling up to any visiting. He didn't respond much to my questions and didn't seem to care if I was there or not.

This is all very atypical for Dad.

When I last saw him, three days ago on his Birthday, the big 95, he was in his hospital bed but looked considerably better and was far more animated.

What does it all mean? Will he rally? Will he not?

I know he's lived a long, rich life. Very few people make it to this age. None of this matters when the thought of losing him looms large. I scream inside: "I don't want to let him go. I'm not ready yet."

I'm scared but can't do anything to fix this situation. I'm strangely calm tonight but my thoughts keep coming back to that core of worry and dread. Is this his time?

We're planning a small party tomorrow afternoon in lieu of the bigger bash which was cancelled due his hospitalization. I'm still sad about the missed opportunity to celebrate (big) with him and the rest of the local family. But, as he said, "We never know what tomorrow will bring."

Tonight I wonder what tomorrow or the next day or the day after that will bring. These are critical days for Dad. He will either rally or, he won't. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

"Fund Raising Made Fashionable" (Swapapalooza!)

I had no idea what to expect from an innovative event called  Swapapalooza which I attended earlier today. I came away thoroughly impressed. Not only does this event raise money for neighborhood schools and provide clothing for women's shelters (whatever is left behind: not "swapped" or purchased), but the experience is unique, extremely fun, and I walked out with some very nice clothing.

Last evening I dropped off my donations of clothing and shoes as did about 100 other women who had registered in early January for this event. The organizers and volunteers for Swapapalooza sorted through all that "stuff" and somehow arranged thousands of items into presentable form by category: dresses, pants, tops, outerwear, shoes, purses, hats and scarves, even jewelry. Points are assigned based on the number of items submitted for the swap; 2 items equals 1 point. When it comes time to trade in the points, each treasure found can be had for 1 point. The great part of swap is that extra points can be purchased in real time to cover the cost of any extra items that just have to find a home in your closet.

Picture 100 women lined up this morning at 9:00 AM, ready to hit the inside of that gymnasium where thousands of articles of clothing and accessories were on display. As predicted, large mirrors positioned throughout the space made for (fairly) easy viewing of the style and fit; all very up close and personal.  Photos of the friendly mayhem with clothing strewn everywhere and women in various stages of  un-dress would really tell the story but.....it's not fair to do that (or welcomed). My pictures are rather bland compared to what was really going on in there for two plus hours.

The professional on site fashion consultant offered lots of  helpful advice

 If at first there's a sense of : "Sigh, there's nothing here for me", JUST WAIT. With some patience and a little time, what disappears off the racks resurfaces continuously and the options become richer by the moment. I found a cool pair of gold tone flats within the first 5 minutes but came up short when scanning the racks for anything I'd think of wearing. Much of the clothing was clearly made for a younger generation and was very much weighted toward summer styles.

But then, over the next hour, I found a couple of gorgeous black leather jackets (never have owned one) and a long, sweater with a wonderful drape in my favorite color, blood red. I didn't come across and must-have tops or pants but but did land a cute purse to round out my 6 points. Wow!

I'm already considering the closet clean-out for next year. I'm definitely IN for the next Swapapalooza.

Wisdom from Dad

Yesterday, in the context of Dad spending his 95th Birthday in the hospital, he mused (and I wrote it down to preserve the quote), " You never know what tomorrow will bring".

True this.

There are inklings, premonitions, and predictions but in the end you never know.

My Dad's 95th Birthday

For reasons I could never quite pinpoint, the anticipation of my Dad's 95th Birthday celebration created in me more anxiety than excitement. I felt vaguely troubled and strangely longing for the party to be over. Weird, I thought. Why would a sense of dread color what should have been all about family and friends gathered together to acknowledge our love for a truly remarkable man who has lived long and well?

Last night I told Denny I felt a foreboding; like something was going to spoil the day. I knew in my heart this would likely involve my Dad's health, an illness, a turn for the worse in his frail, ofttimes teetering-on-the-edge condition. Then, I'd rationalize that such an event could happen any day; why would it hit on his Birthday?  But still, I stewed and thought about the rare but possible chance that one could be born and die on the same date. My thoughts can take me in all directions, especially into the macabre.

So, when the call from the lead caregiver at the adult family home came just after 8 AM  today advising me that  Dad was not doing well, suffering from another upper respiratory syndrome with fever, I wasn't at all surprised. All those free floating concerns of the last few weeks crystallized instantly. "I knew it; I just knew it.", I kept saying over and over to myself.  Deeply sad inside, all I could do for the next hour was let the tears run. The timing sucked and there was nothing to be done about it except deal with it.

The caregiver and I made the decision together that Dad needed to head off to the ER for evaluation and treatment. He wasn't happy about this but he's good about following advice. He was whisked off to the hospital and spent the rest of his birthday as a patient. He's going to be OK with medical attention, antibiotics, and a bit of time. He may even get to come home tomorrow.

Dad wasn't too happy that his party had to be cancelled. At one point he told his grandson who so lovingly sat with him in the ER this morning that we should all "just go ahead with the plans" for the party without him. "You should dance!", he said. Chris explained that we didn't want to party without him, the guest of honor. This offer is so typical of my Dad. Only he would want the party to go on while he hung around a hospital ward, working on getting over his bout of pneumonia. Sigh. We'll celebrate later this week we told Dad and he seemed OK with the change of plans.

By the time I arrived at the hospital to check in on him, he was looking pretty good; tired and weary from all the hoopla, a bit hungry, and eager for a good nap but surprisingly on-the-ball. I fetched him a carton of chocolate milk from the cafeteria  and sat with him as the huge mylar birthday balloon floated near the ceiling of his room. It wasn't long before the lead caregiver from the adult family home arrived with Dad's glasses, hearing aids, and teeth!  Add to those necessities, the NY Times and the updated Exxon stock quote and he was all set.  Dad started singing and I knew he had rallied despite the rocky start to the day. Once again.

Tonight, I think of Dad in his hospital bed. I hope he has a decent night's sleep and gets to come home tomorrow. This is the first birthday he's ever spent in a hospital. He was born in upstate New York, at home, as was the custom for the early 20th century.  Even as a newborn, he never saw the inside of a hospital on that Thursday, February 8, 1917.

Happy Birthday to You, Dad!   We'll party with you this weekend; better late than never!

Eating Green

Every now and then it's time to head to Uwajimaya and get lost in the produce section. Amazing. Fun. Inspiring.

And, these were just some of the green things. Orange, purple, rust, red, and yellow; all for another time.

Cedar Rapids: The Movie, not the City

When some Netflix titles end up in our mailbox, I often wonder if they've been delivered to the wrong house. They're usually Indie movies that vaguely register with me as having been added to the queue way back there in time. And so it was with Cedar Rapids, a flick with a rather uninspiring description on the DVD sleeve. I had not a clue as to who, what, when, where or more importantly WHY this one made the cut. The movie sat around for weeks waiting. Waiting.

Sure; Cedar Rapids is a nerdy, raunchy, if not predictable flick but there were more than a few really, really good laughs along the way. Call me easily amused but this one was fun. Here's the trailer if you're so inclined.