GIFT OF LIFE 2

We've come down with a really bad stomach flue, the three of us this last week.
Serina became ill the day my father went home from hospital, three days later I joined her, and today Gunnar went down likewise.
Being totally sat out, as we all were one after another, really changes perspectives on what a precious gift life and the little things in life are.
I lay longing for the day I would be able to drink one glass of cold water in one draught.
At that time it seemed to be an impossible fantasy.
Or getting that kicking horse away from my stomach.
At least be able to turn around in bed without every joint screaming from pain.

I felt I'd come a long way, when I was able to read small, cozy stories from old Reader's Digests.
(I have an arsenal of old copies stabled in my bedside cabinet, for "rainy days" or sleepless nights.)
When I started planning how I'd like to redecorate our living room without extra expenses, I knew I was going to survive this time too.
The wonderful thought of standing relatively firmly on my two feet again...


Praise the Lord for the little things, which are fundamental to functioning slightly normal.
The things we take for granted, even claim to be a right He owes us.
To walk, sit, read, listen to music, eat, drink, play, talk, enjoy art, smell flowers, relaxing in the sun, being safe, strengthened and inspired by the company of relatives and friends..
Wow!!
I am so overwhelmed by His blessing every day.
I guess I needed to be set aside for a short while, to fully appreciate God's gifts given by grace alone.
Today He's hung up his summer curtains in our living room. The unique Clematis.

GIFT OF LIFE

April 5th sixty years ago my parents were engaged to be married.


My parents loved long walks in the mountains. 1960.

Celebrating their gold wedding, fifty years of marriage.
Are they not a handsome couple?

Arm wrestling after my father's brain hemorrhage.

Christmas 2006, still happy together.

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more:
it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
--From Macbeth (V, v, 19)

I'm always thrilled and carried away when I read Father S. In the gymnasium we used half a year just on this very play, Macbeth. Growing up has luckily made me think twice about so many issues.
Like, what are the real values of life?
Who deserves to get the best available treatment when ill, be it body or soul?
How has it gradually become common right to leave one's children and parents into the care of strangers, just to be able to have an occupation for oneself? Strive for things that can be bought, instead of treasuring the things and human beings we have been given for free.
Am I more valuable when I nurse the children of strangers and send my only child to a kindergarten?
The Good Lord blessed me with illness, so I was able to stay home and take care of my child, do old-fashioned housewife chores and have an open house for children in the neighbourhood.
Now I've got a terminally ill father, living with my mother in the home they've used a lifetime to create. For the four years that have passed since my father had a brain hemorrhage, we've heard over and over that he should be sent to a nursing home.
As if his life should have no value because he's now in need of a nurse's assistance to manage fundamental activities of everyday life.
He and my mum still love each other, they are well connected and have shared good and bad for sixty years.
How can anyone encourage my mother to send him away like an unwanted, wrecked car.
(A good thing, though, he's getting nurse's aid four times a day,- for free. Our politicians have figured that to be cheaper than putting more and more people away in public "homes".)

I don't get this attitude of thrashing the ill and old. It's making me furious and makes me question what all our public wealth has done to us.
Use and throw away has long been the norm when it comes to clothing, furniture, and - yes, cars.
The rich and beautiful have for decades thrown away their wives and children as well.
What a waste, what an emptiness.
When I see my parents keeping together in spite of all the well meant advice, I'm feeling proud.
They've always stood up as an example of values, ethics and belief. (Even though I have not always agreed with them on either topic.)
Now they amount to heroes.
God, let thy will be done, and let us all live and die respecting Your gift of life and our hopes of sharing an Eternity.