Taking Stock of Stocking Up

I might have mentioned before that I like to coupon.  I'm not "extreme", but I do have a stockpile in my closet - mainly toothbrushes and razors.  Suffice it to say - I have a hard time passing up a good deal.  (Good deal meaning practically free.)  

In everything I buy I look for the best value.  I use those little yellow price per ounce squares on the shelf tags.  

The other day I was at Costco buying vitamins.  The 500 count bottle was the best buy and I plan to take vitamins for the rest of my life.  A quick estimation though led me to realize there are (as of today) about 545 - 550 days until 7/12/17.  Wow!  That's pushing it.  Because maybe once a week I forget to take the vitamin, so I will probably use up the bottle.  But I'll have to keep this potential expiration date in mind for any future purchases.  

Embarrassed of my Faith

Recently Oprah did a 7-part series called Believe all about faith and religion around the world.  Sort of ironic since there are people that "worship" Oprah, to a certain extent.  I generally like Oprah and believe her intentions are good although I wouldn't call myself a fan.  Anyway, I recorded the series and I watched a few of the episodes over the Christmas break.  (I could be PC and say "Winter break" but I'm talking about religion here so that would just seem to cancel itself out.)

In either the third or fourth episode of the series they talked about extreme acts of faith. 

     In Mexico people journey for hundreds of miles on horse-back, eventually climbing a mountain (on horse-back) because they believe that God will grant them a miracle at the completion of the journey.  One woman has a son that was in an accident and sustained a traumatic brain injury.  His communication and mobility are now severely limited.  She didn't even own a horse, much less had she ever ridden horse-back, but she secured the animal and the skill and made the journey.  They even took the son along in a truck.  The whole way she had him foremost in her mind.  Every time they stopped she would explain to the son what they were doing and why.  He seemed to have cognizance and comprehension and made some replies that the mom claimed to understand.  The mother was doing the journey so that her son might be healed.

     Another segment in that episode was about the Pentecost islands where the men land-dive from a tower with a vine tied around their ankles.  It's almost like bungee jumping except that the vine doesn't have elasticity so it doesn't pull you back up.  They each chose their own vine.  Depending on age they dive from higher and higher up.  A boy of 12 or less was making his first dive from the lowest platform.  Obviously the key is choosing a vine that is just long enough but not too long.  Ideally their hair should brush the ground and that ensures a good harvest.  The documentary showed the young boy diving and landing.  I thought it was quite insane.  He literally landed on his head.  I watched his neck bend at an awkward angle and then bend back the other direction as the rest of his body caught up to gravity and he splayed on the ground.  Then he hopped up!  

As I was watching this episode, I kept thinking how stupid these people were.  As a mom I think I would do anything for my kids, but would I borrow a horse and put my life on hold to train and go on a long horse ride.  Or would I let them grow up in the traditions of the tribe even though I knew it could kill them?

I wondered how the woman could logically think that a horse ride would convince God to grant her miracle.  And how would she feel when it didn't work?  Or worse, how would the son feel?  Would it cause him to lose his faith entirely?  (The mom had told the viewers the son had already wanted to give up and die soon after the accident but she told him he had to keep trying and after that he did make some progress towards recovery.)  Or would they hold on to any slight advancement he made after the journey and call that the miracle?  Mom did acknowledge that the healing might not be God's will.

And what about the island people?  Were they just too remote and uncivilized or uneducated to know how dangerous it is?  Surely in all their years of land-diving, someone has been injured to the point of paralysis or death.  According to Wikipedia fatalities only occurred in 1974 and 2006.  That sort of makes me think God is watching over these people and rewarding their efforts - if not with harvest at least with protection from injury.  Of course, not having been raised in the village it is probably impossible for me to get my mindset alongside the women of Pentecost island - but I just don't know if I could let my child do it.  I didn't even want my son to play football with pads and helmets.  The mom did admit she was a little nervous but she tried to focus on the rite of passage and not the danger.

In the early 2000s I was one of the early users of online dating - back before Match.com when it was Yahoo Personals.  In 2003 I changed my screen name from BrasilGirl17 to walkingbyfaith2003.  I  committed the whole effort to God, vowing not to refuse a date to anyone who asked, and I even took a break from dating for Lent.  Towards the end of Lent a man asked me out and I explained that I couldn't meet him until next week because I had given up dating for Lent.  Today I call that man my husband. 

So I am no stranger to acts of faith.  Yet I have a hard time reconciling some of the big acts of faith as anything more than stupidity.  After watching the episode I felt rather embarrassed and ashamed.  Actually, I'm not sure those are the right words.  I'm not sure their is a word for what I felt.  Logically I think they are stupid but emotionally I don't want to think that.  I feel bad for thinking bad of them.  I feel bad for judging someone else's faith.  I know how big God is, I know what He is capable of, but I just seem to be more tied to logic the older I get.

Ain't It Fun - Guns 'n' Roses

One day as I was writing this blog and listening to my iPod a Guns 'n' Roses song came on, "Ain't It Fun".  I can't say that I've ever really heard the song before but since it is on my iPod obviously I put it there.  One line struck me as ironic to hear while writing the blog so I made a note to go look at the lyrics some other time.

...

I just did and apparently the line that struck me was "Ain't it fun when you know you're going to die young".  The rest of the song is pretty crap and not really words that I would enjoy dwelling on.  And to answer their indirect question: NO, it's not fun.  But I still maintain that the timing of the line was ironic.  I enjoy irony.

Next Christmas Might be the Last Christmas

If 7/12/17 is my expiration date, then Christmas 2016 will be my last Christmas.  How will I spend it?

This Christmas I have been in a nostalgic mood, commemorating the 15th anniversary of spending Christmas vacation in Brasil, reliving the memories with family and friends through Facebook.

Next Christmas I think I might go UNPLUGGED.

I started holiday baking on Thanksgiving weekend and didn't make anything traditional this year but instead made things with the recipient in mind.  Next year I want to dig out the old family recipes and make things for us to enjoy.

Last Christmas we had hot chocolate / cuddle / reading time every day.  Last Christmas we worked a jigsaw puzzle.  Last Christmas we had a train around our tree.  I want to do those again next year.  And watch a Christmas movie every day.  

This Christmas we spent the obligatory amount of time at the in-laws.  Next Christmas I'd love to go away to somewhere snowy so we really have a reason to do all that cuddling.  But I'd also like to put the car keys in the freezer and go nowhere.  But I'd also like to go to all the Christmas activities (like the North Pole Village without the puking, see carolers on the river barges, go to a Christmas parade).

I want it to be MAGICAL.  My youngest will be 11 and he might still believe in Santa.  He will be in fifth grade so I can't imagine getting much more Santa beyond that.  If next Christmas is his last Christmas with his mother, I want to pack every last childhood fantasy Christmas moment into it.

Puking at the Pole

Overall I'm a pretty healthy person.  (Really hoping I don't jinx myself here.)  I keep a steady dose of Vitamin C and Probiotics, if I have to interact with someone sick I wash my hands with soap immediately after - but I'm  not a germophobe.  I used to know someone who was hyper-vigilant about germs and her kids were frequently sick.  I've read, and I believe, that if you live too germ-free your body doesn't learn to fight them off.

So the other night we went with some friends and our kids to the North Pole Village.  On the way there I said to my husband, my tummy feels weird.  It was our first time but the other family had been their before and the kids were talking about their memories from previous years.  Soon after we arrived at the North Pole I told my husband I needed a bottle of water and a peppermint (because I've heard it settles the stomach).  Oddly, the peppermint was difficult to procure but the water was a relief.  Not long after that I made a path to the bathroom and threw up.  I cannot remember the last time I had that experience.  I think it's been more than a decade.  45 minutes later I went back for a repeat performance.

But what do you do when you are all the way at the "North Pole" and four kids are having a good time.  You stick it out.  

An hour later we gathered a couple of plastic bags and headed back to civilization.  As I was fighting back the urge to puke for the third time and praying to God that I not vomit in a car full of kids I wretched before I could even say Amen.  The driver pulled over and I got out and amazingly lost more of my stomach contents than I even thought possible by that time.  What was more horrifying though was that the kids were adding this to the memories of the event.  I can just hear them in the car next year:  remember the time that old man sang karaoke, remember the time I got that stuffed animal, remember the time our friend's mom got sick.

Two hours later, in the comfort of my own bathroom, I threw up yet again.  For a brief moment I seriously thought death would be better.  And then I thought what a wimp I am!  I thought of my friend who is fighting cancer, losing hair, posting pictures of her radiation mask.  I had to ask my husband what the mask was and he explained how they put it over your head and then screw it to a board so you can't move during the procedure.  I cannot imagine how torturous that feels.  And yet she praises God and finds beauty and miracles all around her.  

If I ever do get really sick, cancer sick, I'm going to have to dig VERY deep for strength and perseverance.  

The Reason We Age

Last week, as I was contemplating a relative who is aged to the point that they can't care for themselves, I began to wonder why God allows aging to the point of dependency.  When people's mental faculties diminish to the point that they don't know what day it is, much less how to cook a meal or drive a car - they can no longer be the hands and feet of Christ.  So why does God leave them here in their confused and frustrated state when he could so easily call them home?

So here's what I came up with:
Without nursing homes who would the school groups go caroling to or do other visitation projects?  Well, they could still go to hospitals or homeless shelters.
Maybe the Association of Elder Care Workers has made a big contribution to God's political campaign so he's rewarding them with steady work?
Well, if God wanted to bless people with work it would happen.  If great numbers of elder care workers were suddenly out of work God could create a new industry that we can't even conceive yet.

I'm starting to think the purpose of their aging is so that their children or other family will once again learn to work together.  By this time in a parent's life cycle the children are grown and split off into their own family factions.   Many times there are years of hurt feelings built up between them for various reasons.

In Dr.  Phil style I might ask, "How's that working for you God?"
In my observations a few outcomes occur:
1.  The family comes together, works it out, and goes their separate way again
2.  The family comes together, but some do more than others and additional resentment builds
3.  They don't come together at all and wind up fighting about everything.

So - I'm still left wondering, what is the point of aging.  Any ideas out there?

Activity Centers

I suspect that places that care for older people have so many activities in order to keep their minds and bodies active and healthy, as I was discussing last week.  Getting out and being with others is a good way to ward off depression, which often sets in to aging minds.  Even if that "out" is just out of your room and down to the dining room.

I've often thought though, one of the root problems with moving to a senior facility is timing.   (Money being an obvious problem too.)  Money you either have or you don't and you look for something in your budget.  But there is no budget for when.

When my mother wasn't joking about living 6 months of the year with each daughter, she always said she didn't want to be a burden on her children.  She said numerous times as I was growing through my teens and early adult years that we should just "put her in a home".  But, when it came down to it, she resented it.  She didn't think the timing was right and she sure didn't appreciate the concept of being "put in a home",  regardless of her numerous references to it through the years.

Now-a-days it seems almost a given that anyone who lives past 65 will start to have diminished mental capacity.  I've observed it is a very fine line between being mentally able to recognize that a senior facility would be a good place for you and actually needing one but being so mentally deficient that you don't think you need it.  In the people I've watched go through this process it seems to flip like a light switch.  One day they are fine enough to not need a facility and the next they really need it but are adamant that they don't.  And moving them in a diminished mental state is SO MUCH HARDER than if they had moved in willingly and got used to their surroundings with all their brain cells active.

If I continue to operate under the idea that receiving an expiration date was just meant to shake me up and get me to accomplish things, then that would lead to, some years from now, identifying a retirement home and moving in when I am still completely healthy.  I've heard there are some facilities that have different stages of care - from retirement to assisted to nursing.  We'll see, if I get past 7/12/17 maybe I'll set up a long-term care account for a start.