Two Weeks Ago, With Dad

Two weeks can be a long, long time. I spent almost a week with my Dad in mid-April. Here we are after the noon meal two weeks ago. I had pulled the CD player over close to Dad's comfy chair, found some music, and we had an afternoon sing-a-long.

We listened to a recording of the men's quartet that he sang in as a pastor, The Trust Company. Dad remembered most of the words and I knew some of them.

We had a good time identifying voices and seeing if we could remember bits and pieces of the concerts. And this photo of the two of us, well, I put the camera on the kitchen counter and took that image using the self timer on my trusty point-and-shoot pocket camera.

It was a good time together and now, two weeks later, it is a good time to remember.

Copyright 2013
Wanda Hayes Eichler

Through A Glass

Morning rises through the glass of a hospital window. The long dark night of the soul is about to end. Dad will not be looking through the darker glass of this life.

Soon he will be face to face with the Grand Otherness of life. Some have described this journey as a crossing over. Now, beside his bed, hearing the gentle breaths of what will probably be a last day, I am in awe of the human spirit and the Creator who breathes life into goodness and guides each soul to a new Sunrise.

It's okay to cross now, Dad. It's okay.

With Dad

I'm sitting with my Dad tonight, writing my blog, hearing him draw breath after breath. The family is here and we wait.

My knitting waits for me too. And one week ago, Dad and Carla and I posed for a photo together at the farm.

Tonight we are together. Still together.

The Knitting Continues

Now it is Saturday at the hospital and we are watching the hours go by with Dad. There are times of jokes, stories of family and friends, and memories that bind us together.

I knit and I wonder at the resilience and tenderness that I see in the family around Dad. Gentle feeding, careful turning, charting the hours -- we take turns and make the day go well for Dad and for each other.

I am knitting the second baby hat of the week. The first one was for Baby Val. This one is for Baby Maggie.

While my heart wonders my hands knit, and the hours go by. Precious hours. Precious stitches. Precious life.

Copyright 2013
Wanda Hayes Eichler

Knitting, Hoping

I wasn't ready to hear that my Dad had a heart attack yesterday, but that's the news that traveled by talk and text, starting late in the day Wednesday.

So Ed is driving and I am watching my smartphone and knitting, on yet another journey across Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois to Wisconsin. Dad rallied through the night. His 92 years give him a toughness and perspective that seems innate, like it is part and parcel of his character.

There may be knitting time ahead. And time to be with the tough guy as he figures out yet another chapter in his book of life.

Dad gives his knitting daughters knitting needles for our birthdays each year. His birthday card that came with the last needle (which is engraved "With love from Dad") says "Thanks for your knit and purl. Dad."

We will keep knitting and purling and hoping right through all of what lies ahead, Dad.

Through it all. All of us.

Copyright 2013
Wanda Hayes Eichler

Mickey-Lu's BBQ

One of my stops on my weekend jaunt back from Wisconsin to Michigan was Mickey-Lu's BBQ in Marinette, Wisconsin. Just south of the state line on the main highway in Marinette, Mickey-Lu's serves charcoal broiled burgers, shakes, sandwiches, and Coke products.

The charcoal grill is right behind the main counter. See where the chimney stack is in the photo? Right under there, that's where the grill is. I had a cheeseburger with everything, a glass of water and a 12 ounce Coke (that's their large size) to go. The Coke was so I could stay awake for the evening part of the drive up M-35 and US 2 to Escanaba and Manistique. Think deer along the highway, eight of them, and one sandhill crane, too.

The tasty burger was wrapped in paper and cut in half so it was easy to eat. The patty was a reasonable size and, the best part, there was a pat of butter on the beef patty. Boy, was it ever good.

Total bill was $3.01. I put a five dollar bill down with the bill and said "keep the change" as I headed out.

It's a classic American burger place, right out of the fifties. Stop in next time you get through Marinette.

Copyright 2013
Wanda Hayes Eichler

Justification

So what does my iris bed, newly worked this spring, have to do with the theological concept of justification? I hadn't thought about justification for a long time, but the iris bed dug that word right out of my brain.

Those of us who learned how to type on a typewriter (and do word processing in MS Word or other programs) know what it is to align the type on a piece of printed paper. We call it "justifying the margins" when we arrange the lines in a certain way, usually straight.

The iris bed had become unruly. The river stones were encroaching on the iris; the iris were moving into the stones. Ed hauled some field stone for me to place as a border. I got down on my knees and got to justifying the margins. That's what I did.

I thought about that old catechism word "justification" all the time that I worked in the stubborn weeds and cakey mud and iris rhizomes. The theologian's justification is probably a tad more complex than stones and mud. Nevertheless, it was good for me to think about cleaning up the margins in life by taking crooked stuff and making it straight.

Too deep? Probably.

Back to the garden. It's time to haul more stones.

Copyright 2013
Wanda Hayes Eichler