What’s in a name?

I’ve been thinking a lot about names lately…..

Especially about how my professional “names” have changed since my “young nurse” days. Of course my original RN license included first, middle, maiden, and last names. That was the law. At first I wore a simple name pin proudly, as depicted in this framed print that my nurse managers gave me when I reached administrative status. I also wore my school pin from Harding University–gold with a map of the world and a “go ye” message.

Print by Billy Kirk, 1984, “Ready to Serve”

Yes, I wore white (oftentimes a dress), a nurse’s cap, white “duty” shoes, carefully polished, and a wristwatch with a second hand! A far cry from today’s colorful scrubs, athletic shoes, and photo IDs required of healthcare professionals. In those days I was simply “KP” to most of the staff and physicians. After all, we charted on paper and simple initials confirmed medications administered, etc. There were a lot of other things different about nursing back then. I was one RN “charge nurse” with a couple of LPNs (if I was lucky) and a team of nurses’ aides and orderlies taking care of 25 to 30 patients on a unit. I knew about all of them because part of my job was rounding three times in an eight-hour shift to check on them. There’s a lot to be said for the advances in healthcare but I sometimes feel that I came up in the last of the “glory days” of nursing when technology was less important. I know that I made a difference on many of those shifts because of the time spent with patients and decisions made. And, just sometimes, I long to be called a simple “KP” again.

But back to the name thing. When I finally completed my Master’s in Nursing I dropped the middle name and added my maiden name in its stead. My father was so proud of me. I wanted the family name to be part of my professional credential. He didn’t get to see me graduate (he died in September before I finished in December). But I hope someday to tell him about it. Or maybe he already knows?

Lastly, the thing that really got me thinking about all this professional name thing is the realization that I’m no longer “KP.” Now old enough to be many attending’s mother and the resident/intern/medical student’s grandmother, I am known almost universally as “Ms. Kathy.” And I guess that’s ok. It just made me think about things. It comes with a bit of responsibility, I guess. I want to exemplify the traits that make nursing strong–intelligence, discernment, compassion, courtesy, professionalism. To be a person who leaves the world a little better because of my presence. I hope I can do that in my remaining years of nursing practice. And I’m not ready to give it up yet! I really like what I do and, yes, I’m good at it! ūüėČ

Hungry for books….

A few days ago the thought came to me that you might be interested in knowing what I’m currently reading. Most writers are readers. My boss shared a quote from somewhere that “the best writers are the best readers” or something to that effect. I don’t know that I’m the best of either category, but I have had a love of reading all my life, and, most recently, the habit of having several books going concurrently. I was going to make a picture of my current reading projects. I wish I had made it that day.Because someone else in this house has an “appetite” for the written word!

My husband Arlin, daughter Cindy (holding Piper), and me, holding Princess.

The black fluff that I am holding is Princess, the less-than-well-behaved miniature Schnauzer member of the family. Although Arlin kind of dropped the ball today, too. You see, Princess has a deep fondness for the paper that the written word is recorded on. Alas, today Arlin forgot to kennel her before leaving the house. And she, left to her own devices, is easily bored. Looking about, she found my current reads.

My current menu of books. . .

Fortunately The Witch Elm had a book jacket. It was easily removed and chewed on sufficiently that it will no longer fit on the book. Oh, well, sometimes those covers get in the way anyway. A somewhat more “literary” read than I’m used to, I find the plot a bit slow-moving but intriguing enough that I can’t quite give up on it.

I highly recommend The¬†Soul¬†of¬†America.¬† The historical detail and insight into the struggles for equality for our African American citizens has reminded me that the roots of racism run deep in this country. Jon Meacham recounts our search for our “better angels” thoughtfully. I pray we find them soon. By the way, Princess ate the lower right-hand corner of the front cover, not visible in the photo.

Unfortunately Stein on Writing lost its cover. Copyright 1995, I ordered a used copy from Amazon. Sol Stein was a master editor of some of the most successful writers of the last century, and his craft techniques and strategies are fascinating.

I included the Kindle directory on my phone, because in spare moments waiting for an appointment or waiting for my husband I read. Thrillers, mysteries, the occasional romance, but my favorite are historical novels set during World War II. My dad fought in it and my mom and grandfather worked in an airplane factory during it. I, like Tom Brokaw, view that generation as perhaps the greatest of our time.

So, are you a writer? A reader? Hungry for books? No appetite for them?Hard cover? Paperback? Digital? Hate reading? Just wondering.

A quilt story . . .

Handstitched quilt with Noah’s Ark theme. . .

I need to give a little back story for this piece. Probably almost 25 years ago I took part in Christian retreats called Emmaus Walks. The Arkansas group that sponsors these retreats is called the Noah’s of Ark (Arkansas) Emmaus group. These three-day, intensive times of study and worship are meant to, and succeed at, introducing the believer to a closer walk with the Lord and opening one’s eyes to His presence, much as the disciples were surprised to recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

I became very attached to Ark imagery. Fourteen years ago my husband, Arlin, found this quilt at a craft show and brought it to me. Because of the detail and the hand stitching, I put it away, not wanting to “wear it out” with daily use. It has always been there, waiting for the time God intended to bring it out of its protective case in my closet and into my life.

In December of 2018 I thought of the quilt. And I felt it was time to bring it out and enjoy it. So my husband retrieved it from the closet shelf and I unzipped its protective case and folded it on the end of our bed. Every time I straightened the bed I would admire the hand-cut blocks and the tiny stitches and wonder about its creator.

Then came the moment. As I folded it one day, I noticed a signature on a back corner. It took my breath away.

Just a name and a date. . .

You may think that finding a dated signature is not such a momentous occasion. But it was. Because I knew a Donna Gordon. You see, Donna Sue Gordon of Bald Knob, Arkansas, was a beloved patient in the cardiology practice where I work. She had passed from this life on November 2, 2018, after a long and difficult illness. It was clear that I needed to speak with her daughters about my “find.” Could this quilt be one of hers?

Carolyn and Jennifer assured me that this is, indeed, one of their mother’s quilts. They said hearing from me was as though their mom was saying hello from heaven. They said that she loved me (and Dr. Blue and all of the “Blue Team”). I know that we were blessed to know and serve her during her illness, because she never failed to brighten out days with her sweet smile and gentle voice and patient suffering. Yes, nurses and doctors do grow to love some patients because of the many times we visit and the valleys we travel through with them. And I loved Ms. Donna.

Donna Sue Gordon, 4/23/1943-11/02/2018. . .

All this may not seem very important to many of you. But it’s important to me. It tells me that our lives are woven together in so many invisible ways. It tells me that individual’s spirits can speak to one another in special ways and that special bonds are woven that we may never fully understand. I am blessed to know about this one.

To me, this is like a “God-thing”, that in His wisdom this quilt came into my possession even before I knew Ms. Donna. And she made a Noah’s Ark quilt just for me, yet not knowing that it was for me. And the whole thing just makes me smile and be grateful for special people and special symbols and perfect timing.

I am reminded that God is good, all the time, and, all the time, God is good. May you be blessed by those coincidences that are really God-things. They are all around us.

P.S. I have (of course) received permission from Carolyn and Jennifer to do this piece and to feature their mother’s picture. ūüôā

Hope for 2019. . .

View of “Lake Donnie” here on Persimmon Ridge, our home……

The new year is almost here. It’s really a bit unsettling, you know, to view the series of celebrations from across the globe as midnight 2018 strikes and 2019 is born. Even the time zones here in the U.S. result in a wavelike stream of “newness” as the midnight hour comes and goes in the blink of an eye, the passing of a breath, a flash of awareness. So much emphasis is placed on the strike of a clock, drop of a ball or the click of a digital display. We are schooled to believe that there should be some tangible act to mark the transition from old to new.

We are showered with best and worst lists of pop culture and politics, music and sports. Weather statistics from 2018 are organized and analyzed and presented to us in charts and graphs. We are encouraged to make all kinds of positive life changes, since we must need to take better care of ourselves in some way. And thus are born New Year’s parties and kisses and toasts and resolutions. Yet what really changes? The calendar on the wall, the display on electronic devices, a legal holiday from work and life goes on as it did before.

Please don’t misunderstand. I believe the traditions of reflection on the past and anticipation of a new set of 365 days, unmarred by tragedy or life stress, are valuable. We long to make tangible the intangible. We long for new beginnings. We long for renewed hope. I remember a passage from Isaiah:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?…”

Isaiah 43:18-19b (NIV)

I have sermon notes in the margin of my Bible. The speaker suggested that remembering successes leads to pride and remembering failures leads to guilt, both pride and guilt being bad things. Perhaps that was a good message for Isaiah’s audience. I’m not sure it speaks to me tonight.

I want to remember the good things of this year–new lives added to our family, the times I have caught my breath at the beauty of a sunrise or sunset, the satisfaction of teaching children’s Bible classes, the emotion accompanying songs of praise in worship. I want to remember the kind words spoken to me, the unexpected pleasant surprises, the gratification of seeing patients do well after I’ve been involved in their care.

And I want to learn from the year’s failures, from the times a more thoughtful choice might have avoided future distress, from the times I could have expressed my thoughts better in a blog or note or paragraph. I want to be more patient, kind, and, above all, more loving and remembering the times that I failed to show those qualities may help me achieve a needed adjustment of attitude!

I believe both of these exercises can help me hope. I suspect hope is what a lot of the world needs right now. I know I do. I hope for a healthy family and one particular restored relationship. I hope for peace. Many hope for food and clean water and shelter. We all hope for a government that governs for all the people with integrity and in a civil manner. What about hoping for cleaner speech in television and movies because we all really don’t talk like that? We need hope for a world where families don’t have to travel hundreds of miles to escape violence and death and poverty only to be met with a “no admission” sign.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

I guess my faith is not strong enough, because I certainly cannot be sure that some of the things I expressed hope for will come about in this current climate, culture, world. But I do know who true hope and peace and joy reside in–Jesus.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6 (NIV)

May your 2019 be filled with peace of mind and heart, the joy of knowing life in Jesus, and the love of family and friends.

Happy Birthday, Dan

My¬†“mail”¬†from¬†Lorelai¬†last¬†week……

Dear Daniel,

You’re always with me, in my memory and my heart, but today I felt you even more keenly. It was 45 years ago that I gave birth to you. It’s been 3 years, 3 months, and 25 days since I lost you. I don’t know if you are able to know what is happening in our lives. There are some things that I really hope you know.

Like what a beautiful, strong, level-headed, wonderful mother your daughter is. She’s going to start her graduate education at Harding University in January. My understanding is that she wants to be a mental health counselor. Maybe that’s because of her personal awareness of how mental illness can change families. You were right, you know, your son-in-law is a gift to this family. He loves and cares for his wife and children as the finest of men.

Yes, you have grandchildren now. Lorelai’s 4th birthday was yesterday. It was just last week that she sent me the colored page pictured above in the mail. Kaci said it was the first “outgoing” mail request she had made. I treasure the envelope with GiGi in her sweet printed hand. She is beautiful and charming and smart, like her mother at that age. Her mother had hoped that she would wear the Alice in Wonderland dress you brought from Disneyland for Halloween but her mind is very changeable and she opted for another costume. Oh, and she loves unicorns and books and puppets.

And now you have a grandson, too, Sully, born May 30th this year. He is an adorable infant, thriving in the love of his mother and father and big sister. Oh, how I wish you could be here to see them all.

I like to remember you when you were your healthy, charming, handsome self, with that engaging smile and sensitive heart and creative gifts. Your way with words and the funny radio ads and love of the outdoors. Kaci has that love, too, more than I expected.

Steffie still struggles with losing you. Her love for you is still strong but she is coping and carries on. She is a great nurse and her home health patients love her. And she has her animals, 3 dogs or is it 4? and a cat at present, I think. But then there were the rabbit and flying squirrel that came and went.

Your brother and sister miss you keenly, as do I. I miss the “old” Daniel before you were sick and tormented and in so much pain that you had to leave us. I’m not angry any more, just sad for the loss of such a beautiful soul. I pray your pain is a thing of the past and that you are at peace.

I’m needy. Are you?

From “Upper Room Hymns”, compiled by Harry Denman and Grover C. Emmons, Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, c. 1942.

This hymn has been on my mind lately. Life has been a bit hard. Sometimes today’s slang use of “needy” implies a self-centric or weak disposition. But aren’t we all needy on some level?

After all, no life is perfect. No matter how successful, wealthy, powerful, or blessed a person may appear to be. We all have our moments of doubt and worry and grief and, sometimes, despair. 

So, the words of that hymn have been on my mind. And I’ve even found myself paraphrasing it in my prayer journal.

“I need thee every second, minute, hour, day, week, month and year. I need thee every heartbeat, breath, movement, thought and tear. Guide me to find the way, your plan, and persevere. Restore to me joy and peace and ever hold me near.”

So, that’s my thought for the day. Wherever you are in your journey, whether on the mountaintop or in the deepest valley, may you feel God’s presence and find His way for your life. 

And, have a blessed Christmas season!

The Parish family tree here on Persimmon Ridge, looking out over “Lake Donnie”…..

Where’s your calm?

I’ve been intrigued by the recent introduction of the “calming comfort blanket” by Sharper Image. I did a little research and found that the beginning price of $99 is for 10 pounds of calming comfort through the weighted blanket. The 25 pound blanket (weight increases in 5 pound increments) is $169. The commercial includes a statement that the weighted blanket “feels like someone holding me.”

I really am more fond of fluffy down comforting and don’t think I would find a¬†weighted¬†blanket appealing, in spite of its scientifically weighted microbeads. But the whole idea that our society needs tangible comforting by an inanimate object kind of troubles me.

I know the world is a scary place. Sometimes I’m as scared an anyone else. Global warming, wildfires, hurricanes, tornadoes. Devastating floods. Famines, epidemics, war. The threat of nuclear conflicts. A nation more and more divided through battles over immigration, nationalism, and politics. Constant rhetoric that I’m sure our God is not pleased with. It troubles me, too.

And then there are the more personal stressors. Illness, physical and mental. Grief and loss. Addiction. Finances. Worry about retirement income with a questionable future for Social Security as well as the ups and downs of the stock market. Maybe just the heating and air going out in hot Arkansas summer (a recent personal stress.) The cost of prescription drugs.

My boss often says that “stress is the way we know we’re still alive.” He’s right, you know. Because we all have it. The question becomes how we deal with it.

Instead of a “calming comfort blanket” I like to imagine God wrapping his heavenly, strong, comforting, peaceful arms around me. Remember Jesus’ words:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 NIV

Jesus didn’t promise an easy life, but he promised comfort, peace and joy even in our “brief and momentary” troubles if we rest in him.

And Peter wrote:

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1Peter 5:7 NIV

It’s one of my favorite verses. And what about the Psalmist’s words?

Be still, and know that I am God;     Psalm 46:10a NIV

Isn’t that the hardest part? To be still. To trust. To yield control to a higher power, all-knowing, loving, gracious, merciful. The One who holds our lives in his hands and knows our beginning and promises eternity with him.

Finally, Paul wrote to the church at Thessalonica:

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 NIV

Perhaps there are answers to today’s stress other than a comfort calming blanket. Go ahead, try one, if you think it will help. But there is a way of faith that costs nothing, except your heart and soul. Just sayin’…