God's Perfect Timing

 

God’s Timing

We were almost empty nesters, with our youngest ready to fledge.  It was, however, a blessing to still have him with us at this particular stage proving God’s timing is perfect.  The blessing was multiplied because our oldest son and daughter-in-law lived right next door to my husband and me. Not only that, but our middle son and his wife lived only minutes away with the only grandson at that time.  We were surrounded with family support and comfort.  The day I took my husband to the ER because he was disoriented and abnormally forgetful had finally come.  His behavior had been questionable for a few months, but he had hidden it well.  It was beginning to affect him at work, and noticeably he was making mistakes on the job.  Secretly he thought he had early onset alzheimer’s disease.  He was terrified of the fact that he might have this crippling disease because he had seen firsthand the affects it has on a person.

After much coaxing, I had my neighbors help me convince my husband to go to the ER that Sunday afternoon in September 2017.  I was at the ER alone with him and unknowing of what was going to be announced as his diagnosis.  They had sent him to get a CT-scan of his brain, and we were awaiting the results. Out of the blue, 2 of our sons and one of our daughters-in-law appeared from behind the curtains.  Again, God’s timing is perfect.  They had been sitting at home anxiously awaiting my call but had decided to come to the hospital to support me.  I didn’t know they were coming.  Ironically, the ER doesn’t normally let that many people come back to the patient’s bedside, but they allowed it. After they arrived, only a few minutes passed until the ER doctor brought us the news.  He had a picture of the brain scan and showed us a brain tumor the size of an orange in my husband’s head.  He said it was cancer.  I immediately said why do you say that?  Couldn’t it be benign?  Apparently, a doctor can tell by looking what type of tumor it is.  My husband immediately smiled and yelled out “Great!  I thought I had alzheimer’s!”  He was truly so happy to hear that it wasn’t what he feared, not realizing that it was much more serious.  It turns out to be a Gliobastoma multiforme (GBM).  This tumor is a stage IV, fast growing aggressive type of cancer with no cure.  Brain surgery would be required to debulk the tumor, followed by radiation and chemotherapy.  Without treatment, life expectancy is 6 months or less.

 Our youngest son was finishing up his internship with the Conservation Corp when he got the news.  He had been relocated to Florida to help with cleanup efforts after the damage from Hurricane Harvey.  They flew him home immediately and his time with the Corp which was 3 weeks shy of completion was considered accomplished.  He had graduated from college and was in the part of life where a student transitions to the work force.  He put his life on-hold, though, foregoing a job search, to help me care for my husband.  There was 5-6 weeks of radiation Monday-Friday at Duke Hospital which was 30 minutes away.  The drive, the parking and the waiting was longer than the 15 minutes of concentrated radiation. Between all my sons, they helped to drive me and my husband to all the doctor appointments and radiation treatments.  My oldest son took a family medical leave of absence from his job to help care for him.  My middle son also took a considerable amount of time off to assist in every way possible.  He had been a CNA for a year at UNC Hospital in Chapel Hill on the cardiac floor before deciding to not choose nursing as a career path.  We relied on him a lot for his expertise in patient care.

Nearly nine months later, after all the treatment options had been exhausted, nothing else could be done for him medically.  Hospice was necessary when he could no longer get upstairs and eventually could not even walk to the bathroom.  We had no shower facilities or bedroom downstairs, so a hospital bed was placed in the living room.   My youngest son and I took turns sleeping on the couch to accompany my husband.   He eventually became unresponsive.  One evening, June 24, 2018, was the first time all 3 of our sons had decided to spend the night in the living room, sleeping in recliners, couches, and on the floor. Our daughter-in-law had asked her mom to come to stay with their baby, so she too was there specifically at my husband’s bedside reading scripture over him.  I eventually went to lay down in my bed upstairs as I was exhausted.  They held vigil, but apparently, my oldest had needed his cell phone charger and had stepped next door to get it.  At that time, my daughter-in-law noticed a significant difference in my husband’s breathing.  She immediately texted my son to come back quickly and bring his wife.  She then ran upstairs and got me up to come quickly.  As I arrived downstairs, every one of them was standing over my husband as he took this last breath.  Again, God’s timing was perfect.  Maybe my husband had been waiting to pass when all of us were there together.  I don’t know, but it was an amazing time of togetherness.  We all shared in the experience of letting him go.  I feel it was the way that he wanted it to be.

An Aside:

My oldest son at the time of my husband’s surgery had a photography studio set up in his living room.  He had the backdrops, the professional lighting and expensive camera and took many beautiful photos.  One in particular, he took of my husband shortly after the craniotomy.  It was a profile of my husband with his large fresh scar of 56 stitches.  It was a profound photo; one my husband was very proud of.   Recently my son had that photo enlarged to a 20” x 20” black and white print.  He being a perfectionist was not happy that a very tiny imperfection had occurred when he opened the package after it was shipped to him.  I, on the other hand, had no problem with the quality of the print, so he gave it to me.  I framed it with a black mat and a white frame, and it is a piece of art, but I was hesitant to put it on the wall.  Did I really want to look at that memory every day?  Then my son shared with me that he had intended to hang it in his office to remind him that life is short and to live life to its fullest.  At that point, I knew it was going on my wall in my home office.  What a great sentiment to have regarding something so tragic.   

Tammy Harvey

Written:  12/24/2022

Although this story happened over 4 years ago, it is like it happened yesterday, but I wanted to put it down on paper so that I would never forget it that God’s timing IS perfect.

The Flower Girls

 Lavender, Lilac and Lily

Three sisters were named after flowers, it’s true,
One was called Lilac Annie and another Lavender Blue,
Lily was the youngest, and she was named Lily Grace,
The girls’ mother was called Queen Anne’s Lace,
Their father was known simply as Sweet William,
Everything his three daughters did would thrill him,
He was a proud papa married to the love of his life,
For Queen Anne’s Lace was a wonderful wife,
They lived in a purple house in the middle of town,
The girls could often be seen skipping up and down,
The sidewalk in front of the white picket fence,
Playing hopscotch with a shiny sixpence,
The front yard was filled with colorful blossoms and blooms,
And pink frilly curtains hung in the upper bedrooms,
Their cute black patent leather shoes and white lacey socks,
Were complimented nicely by their hand-sewn frocks,
Their mother made all of their beautiful clothes,
In floral print fabric with matching buttons and bows,
One more tidbit I have to share,
They even had matching underwear!
These girls were quite fancy, but down-to-earth,
Even though they were doted on since their birth.

Tammy Harvey
1/16/2023

A Vision of 2023

 Vision Board

No New Year’s resolutions for me,
I’m making a vision board for 2023,
I’ve looked through magazines for inspiration,
A word, or phase, a picture with implication,
I search my heart to see what I need,
I want a direction before I proceed,
I see words that jump out at me:
Light, shine, give, guide and treasured,
Compassion, miracle, tradition and delivered,
The pictures I’m drawn to are related to light,
Stars, lighthouses, Christmas lights, candlelight, reflected light,
For 2023, I need to be a beacon to others, I’ve concluded,
And a seeker of the light (God) that guides me, included,
In addition, I need to focus on the light that illuminates the dark,
Looking for the positives should be my hallmark,
The process to make a vision board had been enlightening,
Unlike resolutions that can be frightening,

Tammy Harvey
1/13/2023

She's BACK

 

Juno is Back

Breaking news:  Juno has come out of the literal closet,

Needing a breath of fresh air, I’m willing to bet,

She is not adorned properly in accessories, it’s true,

Except for the string of pearls, her makeover is overdue,

One would think she might be a total wreck,

Surviving with only pearls on her neck,

Spending a year in the darkness, forgotten by many,

She has persevered during Covid since 2020,

I guess you could say she was in a state of quarantine,

Just like all of us during the pandemic, if you know what I mean,

Placed now on the fireplace mantle in a place of prestige,

Like the trophies in the 2010 movie, She’s Out of my League,

I must give her back her deserved dignity,

After having kept her so long in captivity,

She is, after all, a goddess of marriage and childbirth,

Strong and courageous and she knows her worth,

I think she will stay just like she is, in her birthday suite,

No extras are needed to pay her tribute,

Like a Roman Barbara Bush, a simple strand of pearls will do,

Welcome back Juno!  We have really missed you!

Tammy Harvey

1/8/2023

 

Mimosa Tree Contention

 Sometimes a rhyming poem just isn't substance enough to tell the story completely.  I have taken liberty to write a few short stories to add to my poetry blog from time to time.  

A Point of Contention

Sitting in the middle of a 19-acre property was a small white farmhouse surrounded by fenced pastures where cattle grazed. Framing the house was a set of mature mimosa trees strategically placed on either side of the walkway. When they bloomed, they were beautiful with pink, fluffy pom-pom-like flowers. These mimosa trees were a point of contention between my maternal grandfather and grandmother. My grandmother did not choose these trees and despised their existence while my grandfather enjoyed their beauty. The trees weren’t that close to the house but placed in-between the flower beds surrounding the porch and the flower beds lining the edge of the yard.  These flower beds were my grandmother’s pride and joy.  She worked on keeping them watered and weed-free, and often cut bouquets for everyone she knew.  Her hatred for the mimosa trees were somewhat valid, after all they are regarded as invasive and create a lot of debris from their blooms and seed pods.  They produce considerable amounts of unwanted seedlings that pop up all over the nearby grounds.  I’m sure they were constantly springing up in my grandmother’s flower beds.  She wanted to cut the mimosa trees down, but my grandfather said absolutely not! As a child I remember my grandmother grumbling about those trees and her distaste for them.  She couldn’t, however, win the battle of opinions. 

These trees were great for climbing, and as youngsters we frequently climbed up into their branches.  The branches were low to the ground, easily within our reach and sturdy enough to hold us.  One summer afternoon, while my grandmother was busy going about her daily chores, my cousin and I climbed up and found a bird’s nest tucked into the crook of the tree. We immediately ran to our grandmother and told her that we needed a box.  She was not too pleased with our request but handed over an old Saltine cracker box to us.  She never questioned why we needed it.  We returned to the nest and removed it with a single baby bird that was resting there and placed it in our box.  As we carried the box around, offering the baby bird different forms of food we thought it would like, grandmother noticed our activity.  She asked us what was in the box.  When we showed her, she was not amused.  “Children”, she exclaimed, “what have you done? No. no. no. You can’t remove a baby bird’s nest! It needs its mother.”  She marched us back to the tree where we found it.  She got up in that tree herself and replaced the nest where we showed her it had been.  She dusted her hands off on her apron and looked at us with a loving sternness.  “You children need to find something else to do!”

Well, when I turned 20 years old in 1980, my grandfather died suddenly of a heart attack.  He was only 74 years old, and my grandparents had been married over 50 years.  One of the first things my grandmother did as a new widow was to have the mimosa trees in the front yard cut down. It stands out in my mind so vividly. She respected his decision reluctantly while he was head of the household, but as soon as it was her decision to make, she took matters into her own hands! She was determined to have her way.  She lived on for 27 more years after his death.  She died in 2007, just shy of her 98^th Birthday.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  11/21/2022