Time for another post, right?

I, for one, was getting tired of looking at that messy old meme down there. I spend a lot of time reading other folks' blogs, and none of them look like that--Shame on me!

Something I have gleaned from reading other blogs is that blog entries don't have to be lengthy to be worthwhile. Also, since I decide what goes in this one, they don't have to be earthshaking news events, either! It's kind of nice to know that a person has a right to lead a boring life and report on the bits of it they choose to share with others!

I am starting to find ways to fill my time. This week, which has been hotter than heck, by the way (temperature almost up to 100 today!), has been a quiet one down here at Lake Woebegone. My usual fitness activities have been curtailed due to the Pavilion being closed for the annual draining of the pool and scrubbing of the walls. I really miss my water aerobics class. That has been great fun, and a big thank-you to Emma for getting me to come! I even miss the Silver Sneakers' class and its chair routine which most of us have memorized by now. Hey, I'm not complaining, it keeps me active, and I do believe it has improved my balance. I can now put my underwear on without having to sit down!

So what have I been doing to keep busy? Hmmm--I brought some stuff up from the basement, weeded through it, finished up a book of Sudoku puzzles (easy ones, folks), got a haircut, picked up a prescription at the pharmacy, did something on Monday--what was it? Oh yes, I went to Irishtown and helped "feed the hungry" (prepare sack lunches for about 100 folks). That's always a good experience for me. I really like interacting with the folks over there. There's one great little lady, Evalina, who has all the sacks set up for us to fill when we get there. She's just a little bit of a thing, maybe 70 or older, but really spry. She keeps the rest of us hopping. Monday there was a little girl there about 12 or so, ready to start middle school. I don't know her name, but she has stuck in my mind (or as my little Jenny said years ago, I got him/her stuck in my heart). I so badly want to go back over there, find that little girl, and take her shopping for back-to-school clothes. Next year, I'll be more prepared for that sort of thing.

Monday afternoon I attended the funeral of a sweet woman and soul mate of a great fellow in our church. They were sweethearts for 64 years and managed to spend her last days together. He is going to miss her so much--he has very little zip left now. Fortunately, he has the knowledge that she has gone to a better place, so at least he can be happy for her.

That expression, "gone to a better place": You know, a lot of folks of my generation and younger think that's just a line of hooey. A lot of folks think when you stop breathing, that's it. It's all over. That's all she wrote, folks. I don't think that, though, and I'll tell you why. All my life I have been led to believe that there is a Heaven, and it's real, and that folks who have come to a saving knowledge of and trust in Jesus Christ will be going there when they die. I have that saving knowledge and faith, so I know that is what will happen to me. I have seen actual proof of the existence of Heaven.

I saw my proof the night my mom died. Mom had a stroke the morning after Thanksgiving, back in 2003. It was a massive stroke, causing pretty much total paralysis and the loss of the ability to talk. There was nothing medical science could do for her, other than keep her comfortable. As her family, we chose not to have heroic measures taken, and we settled down by her side to be with her until she died. Hospice was a godsend, as they often are in these cases. The Hospice personnel were able to tell us so many things and help us and Mom be at peace. We pretty much knew when death was imminent, and my brother, husband and I were all with her at the time she died.

Mom's breathing became slower and slower, much like she was climbing up a mountain. Her eyes were open and appeared to be alert, although she wasn't looking at us. We just sat and watched as she "climbed" up the hill. All at once, she took a breath, looking up, and smiled--a huge smile that stretched all the way across her paralyzed face. Then she closed her eyes tightly, still smiling, and never breathed again. I'm pretty sure I know what she saw. She had fought the fight, finished the course, and kept the faith. I know I'm going to see the same thing she did, one of these days, and what I see will be even better than what she saw, because she'll be there in that host of witnesses, waiting for me.

Enough of that. Love to all, good night, and God bless.