I haven’t written in a few days… grieving is hard work.
And I ended up in the ER on Saturday afternoon.
During the worst part of the snowstorm, after talking with an old dear friend-it had been awhile and I thought- yeah, this would be a good time to take my BP.
We had laughed a lot.
Dialed 911 when I got 220/117. I’d been monitoring it since last Thursday when the periodontist had taken it and got 195/96.
I made the mistake of asking him what it was.
It probably shot up another 15 points when he told me.
Immediately I tried real hard to close my eyes to the fear and silently called out to Jesus.
Sweet Jesus, now you know I have no problem leaving this world and coming to live with you! I hate this world! But my family needs me here.
Please don’t let me die.
OK…enough of the melodrama.
But I was exhausted, stressed and in deep grief. Not a good combo when you need to hold it all together.
It was the day after I had gone back to work and found the 8 ft cheese case reading 65 degrees- I’m not a good one to pace myself. Never learned. It’s self-care.
I unloaded the cheese (8 ft is a lot of cheese), salvaged what I could and then cleaned the case. Which never had been done other than a wipe down here and there. I was real tired going home.
It was 9pm that night that I got the call from my sister that Captain Dave had died.
After talking to the rest of my brothers and sisters (6 of us are still here- we were 8) I tried to sleep but it never came.
So I went to work. Then left for the Periodontist appointment.
I left his office and told my unloving, hard-nose boss that I wouldn’t see him until Monday. Told him I needed to take care of my health.
Didn’t go over very well- I think he thinks I’m a robot, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. He cut my hours down (he’s pissed I took time out), says he needs to save money the first quarter (after making probably 125,000 in December). Said “we all” need to make sacrifices right now (bet he still goes on vacation in February).
I’m the only one there who depends on that job for their livelihood.
Something is very wrong.
I feel it. Like the ship’s going down (we’re in our 7th year).
My boss doesn’t know the Lord…at least from what I’ve witnessed. Both he and his wife are lapsed Catholics.
I’m tryin’ real hard to love this man who is acting like he hates me.
“Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them.” Romans 12:14
I have His peace. Even in the midst of the storms both inside and out. I’m learning to trust. I know He has something better in store for me but until then…
This is my mission field.
To live my life as an example of the faith that I profess. And to keep loving….
In spite of it all. Not only “in spite” of, but because of….
Because of Him who loved me first.
This story would look very different if I were not sober.
Thanks be to God.
The photo was taken right before my brother-in-law was cremated today at Mount Pleasant. We knew and loved each other for 50 years.
Godspeed Captain Dave.