I Cannot Imagine

These past few days we have been busy trying to knock out a few of the projects we have on our very long list of projects.  Joe has been cutting dead trees and splitting the wood so we have enough firewood for our immediate cold weather needs.

Freshly Cut Logs

Judy Stacking the "small stuff"

This Week's Fuel

Today we switched focus, and Joe turned to his carpet laying skills to complete "comfortization" of my eBay trailer.  Tomorrow we will move the rest of the furniture into the front office part of the trailer and that project will be, essentially, complete.  I have already been using it and the setup makes processing and shipping the product very easy.

Office Area Before Carpet

Joe Laying the Carpet

Inventory Room After Carpet

Office After Carpet -- Before Furniture

I have been reading others' posts on their blogs, and have reminded myself (again) how very lucky I am.  One of my blog buddies is facing the realization that her just-entering-teen-years son is suffering from the same disorder she has lived with her whole life -- I used to know it as Manic-Depressive Disorder... today they refer to it as Bipolar Disorder.  It matters not what it is called, it is scary and frustrating for those who suffer from it, and for those who love and live with them.  Another of my blog buddies, already dealing with a life-sentence of COPD, is now also dealing with dual cataract surgeries and the healing process that is not the "miracle" cure most of us have heard of from those who have benefited from the surgery. Still another blogging buddy is dealing with PTSD and all that goes with it, while raising a family of five children. Another blogger buddy is dealing with the very recent loss of her husband and yet another with the deployment of hers. I can only begin to really understand what any of these friends are actually going through.

Tonight, after spending the evening basically taking pictures of Joe working, I came in and sat down at the my computer.  It was approaching midnight and I was planning to look at the pictures we'd taken yesterday and today.  I noticed I had a FaceBook message from a friend, so I read it first.  It really broke my heart. She told me her mother is in her final days.  Her mother, Peggy, as I have known her since I met her when her daughter and I were in college, is nearly 87 years old. She has been deteriorating with the escalation of Alzheimer's, and is now in that very last stage, where she has stopped eating.  My friend is with her all the time now.  I knew she had been going through what she calls, "the long goodbye" with her mother for some time now.  And it isn't as if life has stood still for her, allowing her time to focus on this most overwhelming act of love.  She still maintains all of her responsibilities as a wife and working mother of two young children.  I simply cannot imagine what she is going through.  I do know that I wish I lived closer to her, so I could help ease her burden.  She, they, remain in my thoughts.

Tonight I am most thankful that I have not yet had to carry the burden of a loved one suffering from this horrid condition/disease.  I think  Bernard Howe's poem, The Long Goodbye, really captures it.

Deep within that hollow stare,
of our presence they're unaware.
A life that is fading away,
in spite of things we try to convey.
Memories locked up in their mind,
and there they're kept all confined.
Good times spent long ago,
and all their love they did bestow.
For these moments will live forever,
and our pride in them will endeavour.
Seeing them lying there we know why,
Alzheimers is called the long good-bye.

Spanky, my friend, may you have the strength to see you through these final days with your mother.  I will always remember Peggy as the vibrant woman she was when I met her.