Saturday morning

We listened for a phone call with at least one ear all night as Amanda's delivery day is soon!

Deb has a remarkable bounce of energy today. Must have been that delicious infuser of magnesium I gave her last night! She was sleeping so hard I was able to remove it last night when it emptied without her awakening.

I needed to sort and start laundry this morning and Deb got involved in sorting. You just can't understand how good it is to have something 'normal' in life. I'm trying to get 3 loads done before we have to leave at about 12:30 CT.

We had a real encouraging treat this morning. I went up to the 3d floor to gather some breakfast items. A family with a table full of cute little kids was there. As I gathered the food items, one little girl was singing cheerfully with her squeaky little voice. I went to see her and she had on a shirt with her name on it...Eliana, which means "God answered". That is the name of Amanda's baby girl we are waiting on. I went back and told Deb and she went up on the elevator to meet her. We took that as a positive sign of encouragement! Thanks, Lord!

Deb continues to lose weight and by the time we go home we may have to buy some new clothes.

We talked for a long time this morning about life I read her a poem that a friend sent us. It speaks about the stages or seasons of life that we all go thru. Most people follow a regular sequence, but some people's lives don't. For example, my two brothers lives did not follow the normal pattern. Allan died at age three and Terry died at age 35. None of us know our days, so the scriptures encourage us to not waste them and not presume upon them.

Where are you in your life cycle? Any changes you should make to ensure the most important issues of life are handled while you have the time and ability?

Here is the borrowed poem we were sent, supposedly written and left behind by an elderly man who died in a nursing home.

Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . . . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am. . . . . . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . . .. . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . .. . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons . . . . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . .. . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . . . a young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man . . . Look closer . . . see ME!!