That whole nest might have done me in!

In l997 I worked for a memorial park. I loved the park, therefore, I loved working even on Saturdays. I, too, believed in pre-planning one's certain final plans for which I have my own filed for my sons.

The park had gardens which identified each burial section by name: Memory Garden, Resurrection Garden, Garden of Prayer, Sunset Memory, and my favorite, Garden of Honor where the veterans are buried. It was a serene spot on the edge of the park where all that could be heard in the still of a day was the clanging of the flag against the staff.

I also loved “The Rose Garden.” A cement bench and trellis sat amid the roses for which set it apart from all other gardens on the grounds. However, that year the weeds had grown tall around the roses and I had been determined to weed them as soon as a Saturday came for which it had not rained.

Finally, after three Saturdays of rain, the sun showed. I finished the work in my office and headed for the Rose Garden. As I walked across the newly showered grass I noticed the bees bumbling around in the clover. Since I was wearing sandals, I offered up a quick prayer: “Lord, please don't let me get stung by a bee, I really want to weed this garden.” Because it was a Saturday I was alone in the park.

I began on one side, working my way around the cement bench. At times it was easier to sit on the bench, the trellis just above my head, and do the weeding. From time to time, I gazed around the park but kept weeding. Finally, I had reached the last of the weeds behind the bench and under the garden trellis.

As I stood back to enjoy the fruits of my labor, I saw it! Just above my head was a huge live hornet's nest and the hornets were circling. Then I remembered my prayer. I can't tell you how relieved I was that those hornets had not attacked me.

The following Monday I related my story to the other park personnel as we stood around the office. I had marveled at how God answered my prayer and had not let me get stung. Then the park caretaker said, “That's why I didn't weed the garden.” I was awe-stricken!

Later when I told my son about how I had been there alone and....

He said, “Mom you can be glad that whole nest hadn't done you in!”

That night, staring at the fish tank....

Far too long was my leave of absence from posting something I've written here on my blog.  Actually, I had somehow lost a good write and, not able to find it in outer space, I became discouraged in my writing.  At the same time I had been bitten by writer's block.

Today I recalled a time in my life that I feel is worth sharing.  Perhaps it will be an inspiration for you.  

March 30th, l984 was a Friday.  My husband had just completed a final month of chemotherapy for leukemia.  Chronic Granulocytic Leukemia.  That round of treatment followed 20 long months of leukemia and the ups and downs with that dreadful disease. Several times he had been hospitalized, the cancer cells having entered his brain had at one point rendered him unsteady on his feet, among other various effects such as infection.

At the end of that long day, his Doctor informed us that he had done all he could do for him.  He was to go home for the weekend and return Monday, April 2nd.  

I remember that weekend he had not gone to bed when our sons and I had, preferring to sleep on the couch in the living room with only the light from the fish aquarium (which also provided a calming effect).  That last night at home, Sunday night, I sat with him for a long time.  I want to tell you that if there is ever a time when a person recalls the past it is when he or she is dying.

As we sat there looking at the fish tank and talking about our lives those 21 years of our marriage (and two sons) he wept.  He wept because he felt he hadn't spent enough time with his kids.  Not only did my husband spend enough time with the boys, but he was a farmer.  Farmers always spend time with their kids!  Our sons, having grown up on the farm spent many hours helping make hay, harrowing the fields, helping with the harvest season and everything else farmers do:  building sheds, fixing machinery, paint jobs, 4 PM coffee breaks in Gram's kitchen,  and much more.

Then I reminded him of cute things the kids did asking "Don't you remember when Gary got his horse (on wheels) for Christmas...how he ran it up and down the hall without sitting down...he walked it?"  And the time "Greg got his first bike at the S & H green stamp store.  It was red with handle bar streamers and he rode it on the patio...."   Remember the trip we took to Bar Harbor, Me, Whiteface Mountain, N.Y., our trip west in l979 when he'd finally had a full two weeks off work.  The time we spent at Atlantic City in the good days when it was a family city and beach.  And, "Don't you remember Gram and Pap, on those summer evening drives, teaching the boys how to eat an ice cream cone?"  

We talked about other memories, but I want to tell you, it was painful!!  We had known that the next day he would be admitted to the hospital to begin the only treatments remaining...those that would keep him comfortable as he faced the final stages of leukemia.  It was a long and painful month.  On April 29th, ten minutes before daylight saving time that year, he passed away and his spirit went to be with our Savior, Jesus Christ.  

I share this with you because I want you to know that in the finality of life, only two things matter:  what you have done with Jesus and what you have done with your wife and kids.  Though my husband had to be reminded of the many times he spent time with our boys, nothing could change the fact that he'd done so.

Do not live your life facing regret.  Spend time with the wife of your youth and with your children for whom God has entrusted into your care.

"Only one life, 'twill soon be past, only what's done for Christ will last."