A Change of Perspective

I have to admit I was feeling quite sorry for myself yesterday. Here’s why: Our company does quite an extensive Un!ted W@y drive. In Jackson, it was Un!ted W@y mania for 3 weeks! I was involved with the campaign and loved it! So, it was only natural that I was asked to be the United Way coordinator for the Plant . . . that means over 350 employees to try to get involved. It was a daunting task, but I was up for the challenge. First event on the agenda: a friendly chili cook-off. We had 20 cooks and hoped for a good turn-out. Well, almost 100 people showed up and we raised over $500 to get our campaign going! I was happy! And to top it off, dozens of people thanked me and one person even said, “This type of event makes people happy.” It was a success and life was good.

Fast forward to the next morning, 1 person was upset about something very trivial and was making his displeasure known by saying negative things about the event. Throughout the day, bits of “info” trickled in to me. And all I could think was, ‘Really? You’re a grown man!” It was so disappointing and all I could think about. Isn’t it funny how we hear 10 good things and 1 bad and all we can think about is the bad?

Someone at work suggested I pray about it, which I thought was a good idea; but I was too irritated to pray. Yeah, I was that upset. By the time I left work, I was ready to cry. So, fast forward to last night: It’s almost 10pm and I get a call from my sister. She thinks she has a concussion and I end up taking her to the ER. We are there until 3 in the morning. As I’m sitting next to her, I’m thinking ‘What in the world was I so upset about today?’ Seriously! I had a total change of perspective. God heard my prayer, even though I didn’t articulate it. He is good about things like that. :-) A CAT scan and Vicodin later, we find out my sis is going to be just fine. I guess there was a little healing for both of us last night . . .

A Tribute

A long overdue post . . . that was terribly hard to compose.

June 22, 2010: The saints rejoiced as one of their own was brought Home today.

I met Carol when I was on a temporary assignment for work on the west side of the state in 2006. We worked together and quickly found we had lots in common, even though there was a 20 year age gap between us. We went to the same church, had the same values and enjoyed the same wine. ;) We were just alike in the fact that we were both doers and liked things “our” way. Many of my struggles now were her struggles when she was my age. She understood me and accepted me for who I was. Such a rarity!

After I left my temporary assignment and returned to Jackson in 2007, we stayed in touch. I had a standing offer to stay at her house in Grand Haven anytime I was in town and took her up on that offer! I was delighted when I received a job transfer back to the plant in 2009. Not only did it mean I had a job on the west side of the state, but I would be working with Carol again. Little did I know, my time with her would be much too short.

Throughout the summer, she complained that something was wrong with her foot . . . she couldn’t pick it up all the way anymore. But Brook and I played golf with her and her husband in August and she played better than any of us! It’s hard to believe how fast things can change. Throughout the fall, she kept getting more and more tired and losing functionality of her body. Since one of her brothers had died of ALS, she asked me to pray that she had a brain tumor or MS. I couldn’t believe we were praying for such things, but it seemed better than the alternative.

We talked and cried a lot during those months . . . hoping and praying for a “livable” disease. After 29 years with the Company, she was just a few years away from retirement and was looking forward to travelling and playing lots of golf with her husband and enjoying her daughters and grandbabies. Unfortunately, that was not the plan for her. Right before Thanksgiving, she was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig ’s disease). It was devastating. Carol being Carol, she continued to work through the first of the year, b/c she wanted to tie up any loose ends and try to train me as best she could.

After she left, I stopped in periodically to visit. Of course, I wanted to see how she was doing, but I also needed someone to talk with. I would talk with her about my work frustrations . . . frustrations that only she could understand. Or trials I was going through of faith, which she too understood. And every time I left her house, I’d think ‘Why am I talking about my problems, when she is facing a terminal disease?!’ But she didn’t seem to mind and one morning, I came into work to find this e-mail from her (no capitals, b/c she was only able to type with one finger at this point):

“hang tough we always seem to cross paths with people who enjoy making other lives miserable as their own. just take the upper road and be strong.”

I still cry when I read it. That was the kind of person she was.

Near the end, she was only able to “talk” via a machine. She was on oxygen, a feeding tube and was totally dependent on others. How humbling. And for someone who was such a doer, it was so hard on her. God’s ways are so mysterious, but for the Christian we have to believe that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him.” It would be impossible to get through these hard times without such a belief.

And so, on June 22nd, 2010, she died, surrounded by her husband, children, sisters and parish priest. She had only been diagnosed 7 months earlier.

Death is not easy for those left behind. I still can’t believe she is gone and miss her terribly. I wish I could see her just one more time . . . to say good-bye, but would never wish that she was suffering again. I have to believe that her suffering catapulted her into the arms of God when she died. She went through it all with such grace and dignity.

A contemporary Christian song says, “In Christ there are no goodbyes. So, “See you again, my beloved friend. You will always be in my heart.”