Thanksgiving in Florida

     My friend Phyllis took me to the air port on Monday before Thanksgiving to catch a 10:15 flight to St. Petersburgs/Clearwater,  Florida.  I was one of the first persons on the plane and there was another woman in the same row.  I asked her if she lived in Peoria as well and she said no, that she was from a small town near Mattoon called Sadorus.  I was not familiar with that town but told her my mother was born in a little town near Mattoon called Rardin.  She said that her father was born in Rardin.  I asked her if she knew the name 'Hartman' - my mother's maiden name.  She said no, her family names were Stewart and Stiff.  "As in Clancy Stiff?", I asked.  "How do you know Clancy Stiff?", came her next query.  "Clancy Stiff was my uncle.  His wife, Laura was my mother's sister."  I told her.  "Clancy Stiff was my father's brother", she replied.  Shirley Goudie was her name.  She was a former P.E. teacher at Allerton High School and had been married to a farmer from Sadorus.  Small world department!  She made a comment about being on the same family tree, and I suggested that it wasn't maybe the same tree, but possibly the same forest. A  nice lady, and I enjoyed our visit.
       Judy  picked me up at the air port in Florida and our first stop was the Dillards store in Brandon.  The large woman's section at that store is amazing - the whole store is.  We then went to one of our favorite restaurants, "The Oaks".  Great atmosphere.....and food.
       We really didn't do a whole lot in Fort Pierce, just chilled.  Judy made pies and other desserts on Wednesday to take to David and Joanne's for Thanksgiving dinner.  There were probably twenty five people at dinner Thursday and a variety of food.  David and Joanie's house is a great party house.  A great kitchen/great room with a huge Florida room just off of it.  So there were tables set up outside, inside and I don't think anyone sat in the formal dining room.  David knows I like Ronbauer Zinfandel and he poured me a glass and every time there was a 1/2 inch in the bottom of the glass, he filled it up.  So I can honestly say I just had one glass of wine, but I never saw the base.  All in all, it was a good day, as usual with my siblings, lots of teasing, lots of laughter.
      Ryan and Tess Simpson were there.  Tess is expecting their first baby in April.  You often hear the expression that 'pregnant women have a glow about them' and Tess, who is very pretty is prettier now than ever and she does glow but the cool thing is that Ryan does too.   How wonderful to see this happy young couple.
     We spent the night in a Sarasota hotel and the next day drove to Cocoa and took and air boat ride.  Vern would have enjoyed it so.  He and I had stopped at a place somewhere in Florida to take one years ago but it was too late and the rides had stopped for the day.  Our guide on Friday was a good one, who took    

 us down the St. Johns River looking for wild life and we saw a lot and some wonderful views.   I recommend it to anyone going to Florida.  Great fun!
      Back to Fort Pierce for a couple of days and then  back to St Petes/Clearwater to catch Monday's 8:00 a.m. flight for Peoria.  Two hours and fifteen minutes later I was home.  Phyllis met me at the air port. 
      It was a good week and I have much to be thankful for.  I am so grateful for my life.  It is good!

Calling 911

      About 4:00 a.m this morning, I awoke  and as I passed by the front window, I noticed two people walking towards my street, down the side street.  I thought:  "Wow, early walkers even for this neighborhood"! - we have a lot of walkers, dog and otherwise as well as early morning joggers.  One of the pair ran across the street and into the driveway of a neighbor and tried to open the door on the car parked close to the garage.  It was locked, so he ran back across and met his companion and they crossed the street in front of my house.  Down to the corner and right into the Knolls.
      We have had some suspicious happenings in the neighborhood and from the Homeowners Association came the message, if you see something that doesn't look right, call 911.  What didn't look right to me, was the young man trying to open the neighbors car door, so I called, gave them the information I had and that was that.   The 911 operator said they would send a car into the area.  End of story - for me -  this morning.
      But it reminded me of an incident when we lived on Martin Street on a corner, one block from Western Avenue and one block from Proctor Center in the mid 1960s.
      Our bedroom was on the back of the house.  It was right around midnight on a summer night and the window was open.  We had a box fan in a window in the hall, that pulled outside air into all three of the upstairs bedrooms.  I slept nearest the window and was a light sleeper and I heard voices outside and sat up and looked out.  A car was parked in the alley across the street and they shined a flood light on the back of Vern's Volkswagen parked in front of the garage and I heard them reading the numbers on the license plate.  The car waited a few minutes - they must have been verifying the car did indeed belong where it was - and then traveled into the alley behind our house.
     I woke up Vern and so he and I sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window wondering what they were looking for, when all of a sudden, we saw a figure, walking through our next door neighbors back yard and out the gate into the alley.  I said:  "Vern, the police are obviously looking for someone and that person might be it."  "Don't get involved", he said, "It's probably nothing."  We watched as the figure walked through the yard of the neighbor behind us - toward Kettelle Street and I said:  "I'm calling the police!" and I did.   I told them what we had seen and all of a sudden, cars and armed men came out of nowhere.  Down our alley, on the side street, walking cautiously, carrying rifles in front of them.  It looked like all the scenes we had seen on the news of what was happening in Viet Nam and Israel.  Pretty scary, like a war zone.  The men checked all around the area and most of them then went away, but a car stayed at the end of the alley across the side street.
     The next day, the morning newspaper headline read:  Policeman shot at Bellevue Drive In.  A policeman working security at the Drive In had been killed.   I believe his last name was Espinoza.  The afternoon edition said:  Killer Caught in South side.   The shooter was found on a porch roof at a house on Butler Street, two blocks from us.  Do I think it was the same person, absolutely!  That was the direction he was heading when he passed through the neighbors yard.
     It wasn't long after that incident that we began to look at property away from the city.  Although I had grown up in the area, and we loved that our children were attending the same school I had, things were changing and it just didn't seem safe anymore.  A couple of other incidents happened that made us decide to move to Washington.......but that's another story.

Journey - Two Years Later (First Treatment)

Part of the diary I kept starting in 2010 when I was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.


      August 13, 2010, Friday.  Today is first grandson, Joel's 25th birthday.  Hard to believe.  He is up in Alaska working on a fishing boat to make some good money for school.
     Yesterday I went to lunch at Linda Ryan's.  Phyllis, Karen, Carol Lee, Maggie Duncan.  Just a lovely time.  Kind of a 'lets send Norma off on this journey' lunch.  As usual we talked on a lot of subjects and laughed a lot.  God has blessed me with a remarkable friend base.  I am blessed and recognize it.
      Well, today is the day this journey takes a new fork in the road.  Today I start the chemo.  A little trepidation, but calm (resigned?).  I pray for strength, perseverance, patience and peace.  Angela and Maureen arrived late last night.  Maureen first.  We went out on the front patio, to watch some sort of meteor shower, I just saw one meteor and Maureen saw several.  There is just too much light around this house - which is mostly a good thing.  I remember once being at the farm in Missouri and it was one (meteor) after another, crisscrossing the sky, amazing to see.  And of course, there was no light other than the summer sky.  There were a lot of stars out tonight, more than I've noticed for awhile.  Still warm at 10:00.  The weather the last couple of weeks has been in the mid 90's with heat indexes over 100.  Ironic!  The hottest July on record here in Peoria was 1936, the year I was born.  Mother said to keep the babys cool in the nursery, they took blocks of ice and put fans behind the ice to blow cool air on us.  Look how far we've come.  Sitting here now in this air conditioned house.  Isn't technology wonderful.  Sort of a link to this cancer thing.  This trial that I'm doing may be the one that will help scientists find a cure.
     Mary put on facebook that pearls are the symbol for lung cancer so she and several of our friends are wearing pearls today.  Neat!! (actually cream colored ribbons)
     We got at the Cancer Center about 8:15.  We went out War Memorial and no traffic.  They took one container of blood, we visited with the doctor - I gave him the St. Peregrine card.  St. Peregrine is the patron of Cancer victims.  
     About 9:30 we went into the chemo lounge.  Chose a space with two guest chairs.  I was in a recliner.  The nurse was Linda.  She put a very warm towel around my left arm to bring up the veins.  She put the IV port in my forearm.  Hung three bags.  Angela set me up with her I pod with the book, 'The Help' and I started to listen.  Got to Chaper 5, I think I will like it.  I shooed the girls away, they certainly didn't need to sit there and watch me.  They came home and worked at their computers.  Then came back about 12:30 and I was about done.  Amy Kennard's sister works there and she came over to say hello.  Very, very nice person.  The staff couldn't be nicer.  They made the experience a good one.  
     Afterwards, we went to eat at 309, a new restaurant in Junction City.  Started with the requisite bloody mary and then salads.  As we were leaving, the hostess came over and said: "Don't leave yet, someone has ordered 'lemon drops' for you.  Lemoncello and vodka courtesy of  Mary Luann.  On the way home we drove down Prospect and Grandview Drive.
     This was my horoscope in the Journal Star today:  Once you overcome your fears, several matters that have been difficult to finalize will work out quite smoothly.  It's amazing what a little faith will do.
   Pretty appropriate, huh!!


       

DAD

This was written in late 1993.  It's a little long but tells a story about our family.  I think I wrote it for a Class at ICC.

      On Labor Day of this year, we had a big family gathering.  All of our six daughters and some of the nieces and nephews and all of my brothers and sisters were here.  We had one of our family's specialties.  A Garbage Can Dinner - vegetables and smoked sausages cooked over a roaring fire in a clean galvanized garbage can.  There were about fifty-five people here and we have found this is a great way to feed a large crowd.  Our daughter, Lora, had organized games for the young children, sons-in-laws, Tom and Randy, organized a clay pigeon shoot on the back of our property - we live on three acres in a rural area, and my husband, Vern, had put up the volleyball net and the croquet set.  Just a typical family get together.
     What made this one different was that our dad had gotten permission from the Hospice nurse to come out and stay as long as he felt like it.  In the past few weeks, the cancer in Dad's system had daily begun to take it's toll.  He was now using a walker to get around and a hospital bed had been put up in their family room.  With the help of the walker he was able to get from bed to chair and watch his beloved Cubs and do the daily crossword puzzle.
     He stayed late in the afternoon on Labor Day, sitting on our screened-in porch, eating, visiting with and being waited on by family and friends who stopped by.  About six, it had begun to get chilly and he was ready to go home.  My brothers, all big men, helped him off the porch and as he walked along the sidewalk to the car in the driveway, everyone came on both sides to say good-bye.  Hugs, kisses, a last word or two to all of us as he plodded slowly along.  I was walking just behind him and I glanced up and those behind him had tears in their eyes and as the car pulled out of the drive, several of the younger people were openly crying.  All of us had a sense that this was the last time we would be a complete family gathering.  And for many, it was the last time they saw him alive.
     My sister-in-law, Joanne, who is a nurse and lives in Florida, sent husband and kids home and stayed a few more days to help Mom and Dad get into a routine.  Our parents were so pleased that she would do this for them.  She talked with the hospice nurses and all of us and it was decided that when she left on Sunday we would take turns staying the night so that Mom could get some rest.  My brother, Russ, had brought Dad one of the lift recliner chairs and Dad, the person who sat with the remote control and cordless phone always within reach, loved it.  Not only another toy to play with but the chair gave him much more mobility.  He was able to almost stand in the chair and then to his walker.  My sister, Judy, stayed Sunday night, my husband, Vern stayed Monday night, I stayed Tuesday night and Vern stayed again on Wednesday night.
     When I was growing up, there was never a Church activity that my parents were not involved in, usually doing the dirty work, sorting clothes for a rummage sale, painting at the school or rectory or running the kitchen for the Spaghetti Dinner.  When they had moved to small town, Morton, they still remained active in the Knights of Columbus and Mother organized the funeral dinners for the church.  When they moved back to Peoria four years ago, they moved into a duplex in the area of an upscale parish.  They were now in their seventies, and just didn't feel like getting involved again.  No one from the parish welcomed them and when they went to Mass no one took time to say hello.  The past month or two, Mother had mailed the Church a check each week, as Dad's incontinence problems made him feel uncomfortable in places where he wasn't familiar with the plumbing, and they stopped going to Mass, watching it instead each Sunday on local TV.
      I called just before Labor Day and asked if someone could bring Dad and Mom Communion on Sunday and Father Greg, the Assistant Pastor, said no one had told him about Dad although Hospice had assured us that they did.  I told Father that my Dad was concerned where he was going when he died and Father came out and heard Dad's confession and brought him Communion.  This was about the first of September.
     Thursday morning, September 16, I was getting ready for school, when the phone rang about 7:00 a.m.  It was Mom, she was crying and said that Dad had had a really bad night and would I come over.  I suggested she call Denise, the hospice nurse, and told her I was on my way.
     When I arrived Dad was taking oxygen and was having difficulty breathing.  He smiled, squeezed my hand and we talked briefly.  Before I left home, I had called my brother Dick's office and they had located him in a business meeting and he was at the folk's house when I arrived.  Vern suggested that maybe the two of us should call the other brothers and sisters and let them know what was happening.  Dick got in touch with Suzanne in St. Louis.  I got Judy at work in Champaign and she said she'd be home in a couple of hours.  We held off calling the other three until we had talked to Denise. 
      When Denise came, she examined Dad and called all of us into the dining room.  "Russ has one to four days to live" she told us about 11:00, "He'll need two people here at all times."  We discussed getting Alterna Care - a program that provides nurses and nurses aides - Dad weighed about 215 pounds and was heavy for some of us to lift by ourselves - and we decided that one of us, his family, would be with him around the clock for the next few days. 
      Dick called Russ in Kansas City and suggested that he put a few clothes in a bag and come up for a few days.  Dave in Sarasota said he'd make reservations to fly home right away.  Carol in Pittsburgh has been ill and we suggested she stay home and take care of herself so she would be strong enough for the wake and funeral.  We assured her that it was much more important that she conserve her strength and we would keep her posted on Dad's progress.
      Vern was very tired after his all night vigil with Dad and Judy and Dick said they'd be there the rest of the day and Sue and her husband were on the way up so Vern and I came home.  As I was leaving, I asked Judy if she would call the Church and see if they had a hall where we could have a family dinner after the funeral and I added, "Do you think you could bawl out a priest?"  "Sure," she said, 'He's just a man".  I spoke of how upset I was that although Father had assured us that someone would be out to bring Communion, no one had come and although Mom and Dad didn't give a large stipend each week, it was what they felt they could afford and for all the work they'd done over the years, they certainly were not getting their money's worth.
      Judy did make that call, she made the arrangements for the hall for the dinner and then told Father Greg what she and I had discussed.  He apologized profusely, agreed with her that they had been treated shabbily and said he'd be over as soon as he could.  About three o'clock, he called and said he'd be right over.  When he arrived he had another priest with him.  A friend of his had come for a visit and he brought him along
      By this time Suzanne and her husband and son had arrived and so when Father gave Dad the Last Rites, Mom, Judy, Dick, Jim and nine year old Sean, were all there with Father Greg and his friend.  My brother, Dick was kneeling in front of Dad holding him upright - Dad's body that day had a tendency to sink in the middle.  At one point he looked down at his son, saying those old prayers and smiled and winked.  After Dad received Communion he motioned he'd like to sit in his chair.  Father Greg had just asked how many grandchildren the parents had.  Mother answered 'twenty seven' and Dad asked, "Where are my grandchildren?"
      Dick put his arms around Dad and lifted him from the bed to his chair and as he sat Dad down, Dad said, "Where am I going now?", put his head down and died in my brother's arms.  Was he confused for a moment or did he see something that no one else could see?  It was 4:28 p.m.

Mission Sunday

      Last Sunday was Missions Sunday in the Roman Catholic Church.  I was reminded of that this morning because the Priest who said Mass was one of the Chaplains at St. Francis Hospital.  There are several there from various parts of Africa.
      When the first Spanish and French explorers to America came to look into this 'passage' to India or China  -  depending on what group was arriving -  they brought  with them Catholic Priests, who looked after the souls of the seaman on the journey but who also planned to bring Christianity to any Native people they found here.  A lot of those early Missionaries lost their lives.  They were telling the indigenous tribes that the rites they had practiced  for centuries were wrong and that they were bringing a better Way to them.    I don't feel that there are any bad guys in this scenario, both groups felt they were right in their beliefs. 
       When the Peoria Diocese was settled, most of the early Priests were Irish.  Archbishop Myers told me one time that the first two Catholic Bishops for our Diocese were Irish -  Spalding and Dunne - and when the Pope named  Archbishop Schlarman, a German from Southern Illinois as the third Bishop, all of those sons of Erin were very unhappy until Schlarman honored them by making them Monsignors, and they came to accept him. 
       For a lot of years, Priests from America traveled to Africa, China and other countries to convert those peoples.  But now because we hardly have enough Priests to cover the Parishes here in the U.S., we have become a Mission destination.  Priests from the Phillipines, Africa and Viet Nam have come here to fill in as needed.  Some of these Missionaries are even going to Ireland.  What goes around comes around!!
    
     When we were growing up and attending St. Patricks on the Southside, we did several things to help the Missions.  Every year about this time, we all received Holy Childhood Stickers to sell door to door.  There were some really great prizes to those who sold the most.  By the time my parents - they discouraged us going door to door - bought a dollars worth from all of us, about all we received as a prize was a glow in the dark Jesus statue.  Vern, however, one year sold enough to earn a little plaster of paris Altar.  For several years after we married, it was part of our Christmas decorations.
      All throughout the year, we contributed our pennies and nickels to a Pagan Baby Fund.  When five dollars was collected, our class got to give a name to some little child overseas and the class got a certificate of recognition.  It was a really big deal.
      Before Mary and Gregg  were married, his parents, Herb and Pat and Vern and I met with Father Hughes at the rectory to sign papers saying we knew of no reason why they shouldn't marry.  When Father asked if Gregg was baptized, Pat stated  that shortly after he was born, they had moved and just never had him Baptized -  although older brother, Gary, had been.    Vern couldn't let the comment go by, he said:  "When I was a kid, I used to buy pagan babies but I never thought one of my daughters would marry one!!"
 
      The Catholic Church has led the way in starting hospitals and schools here in America and around the world.   It is a rich heritage that we are proud of.  Nowadays when there arn't as many Priests and Religious to be Missionaries it is up to us to evangelize wherever we go.  There's an old quote:  "Preach the Gospel always, whenever necessary,  use words"