Remembering Roxy: Bear-Pig

Derek Teasing Roxy (Aug 2005)

I can thank my son, Derek, for coming up with the nickname 'Bear-Pig' for Roxy. Back in 2005, Rachelle was a sophomore in high school and Derek attended a local community college but still lived at home. By then he had moved into the basement (don't all young adult males thrive in those environs?) and only came up for air when he needed food or to leave for work or school. I often referred to him as 'Derek the Destroyer who lurks in the Mossy Catacombs (or Dungeon).' At that time, Roxy didn't have a playmate or companion dog to annoy (we would rescue Apollo the following year).

Derek and Roxy in a Stand Off (Aug 2005)

Derek loved to tease and harass Roxy. She would wait for him at the top of the stairs when she heard him rising up from the basement. He would lean forward on the stairs from the lower landing so he was eye level with her and start making strange noises at her or woofing at her. Roxy replied with her own strange sounds, which reminded Derek of the sounds a bear makes. He would get her so worked up she would start to lunge at him. Then he would egg her on more by chasing her into the great room and wrestling with her. Roxy didn't stand a chance by then, since Derek is an expert in nearly all forms of grappling - wrestling, judo and jujitsu.

That explains the first part of the nickname 'Bear-Pig.' The second half has more to do with Roxy's typical Rottweiler appetite and the fact that when she sniffed around the house for anything remotely resembling a snack, she sort of looked like a wild pig. At least she didn't 'oink oink' while she was rooting around for treats.

Remembering Roxy: Circling the Wagons

Roxy with one of her indestructible ring toys (May 2007)

I have many great memories of Roxy to share. I hope most of them make you smile. Some of them may even make you laugh out loud. All of them will be bittersweet for me, but still precious. So, I plan to share them with you on a weekly basis, probably on Fridays, as I will have the hardest time getting through a weekend without Roxy to cheer me up.

I dreaded walking up the fronts steps these last five days. Apollo met me at the door, but his tail didn't thump-thump-thump against the dividing rail between the entryway and the dining area. He wagged his tail at the sight of me, but he wasn't crowded out of the way by Roxy. She usually stood front and center, eagerly gripping her ring toy in her mouth, dancing back and forth in front of Apollo. I usually had to order them both to back up so I could squeeze through the screen door.

I would carefully thread the needle of swirling Rottweilers and unburden myself of my purse and laptop case in the great room. Once my hands were free, I could pet each of them, although Roxy would continually circle around me in an effort to head Apollo off from getting too much attention.

If I decided to sit down, Roxy would either approach me and plop herself down on my feet, facing away from me, or continue circling the great room with her ring toy. We affectionately called this parading around 'circling the wagons.' Sometimes Apollo would stealthily attempt to snatch the toy from her jaws and then the fun really began.

Roxy, being the nearly full blooded Rottweiler, could easily keep Apollo, the half-breed, from her toy. Her jaw strength and stubbornness exceeded his. But Apollo never played fair and used stealth and guile to trick Roxy into dropping it. Sometimes, he would even go so far as to lay on the ring toy, which drove Roxy into a fit of apoplexy. Eventually she would start circling him faster and faster and even go so far as to bark repeatedly at him. Unless Terry or I told Apollo to get up, he would ignore Roxy's tantrum.

Roxy's ring toys sit idle in the great room. I've tried a couple of times this week, as has Terry, to get Apollo to play catch and fetch, but Apollo only made half-hearted attempts. Apollo would much prefer to play tug-of-war with Roxy. He still doesn't understand why she's gone. If only I spoke better dog, then I might be able to tell him what happened. Perhaps it's a blessing for him that I can't.

Roxy

The very last photo I took of Roxy (Fri 9 Mar 2012)

Terry and I are devastated. We lost Roxy Sunday evening, unexpectedly. I decided to stay home Monday and try to deal with this loss. So far, I haven't slept much and I miss her terribly. So if you don't see much from me here for a few days, don't panic. I'm just mourning the loss of my favorite ditzy Rottweiler.

May she rest in peace until we meet again.

Prayer Request

Yesterday, my husband received discouraging news from his doctor.  The sort of news, when piled on top of all his other health issues, that makes you instantly angry, scared and depressed.  We know more than we knew last week, but we know less than we need to know to deal rationally with the situation.  Now a specialist is needed and more tests, all of which will not occur fast enough to suit either of us, especially with the delays in scheduling that the normally joyful holiday season will inflict on us. Just when you need it most, patience and peace flee before the storm of doubt and uncertainty.

So, I'm sending out an appeal to family and friends to prayer for healing and comfort for my husband.

Healing Prayer

Dear Lord of Mercy and Father of Comfort,

You are the One I turn to for help in moments of weakness and times of need.  I ask you to be with my husband during this illness.  Psalm 107:20 says that you send out your Word and heal.  So then, please send your healing Word to my husband.  In the name of Jesus, the Great Physician, drive out all infirmity and sickness from his body.

Oh Lord, I ask that you turn this weakness into strength, this suffering into compassion, this sorrow into joy, and this pain into comfort for others.  May my husband trust in your goodness and hope in your faithfulness, even in the midst of this suffering.  Let him be filled with patience and joy in your presence as he waits for your healing touch.

Please restore my husband to full health, dearest Father.  Remove all fear and doubt from his heart by the power of your Holy Spirit.  And may you, Lord, be glorified through his life.  As you heal and renew my husband, Lord, may he bless and praise you.

All of this I pray in the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

15 And the prayer that is said with faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will heal that person. And if the person has sinned, the sins will be forgiven. 16 Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so God can heal you. When a believing person prays, great things happen.

James 5:15-16 (New Century Version)

Giving Thanks

North Texas Thanksgiving II

And so I've reached the penultimate day in my 'Thirty Days of Thankfulness' series.  No, it's not the final day, since this marks the twenty-fourth posting with six more to go, but it is the traditional holiday date to give thanks for all my countless blessings.

I'm extremely thankful that I didn't actually have to roast a turkey.  Thanks to a friend of my daughter's, we had an exquisitely smoked turkey as well as a marvelous spiral cut ham to go with our many traditional side dishes.  We did somehow manage to leave the cranberry sauce in Denton but no one is pointing fingers as to who rushed who out of the apartment.  He did make an excellent gravy.

We've just cracked into the pies.  The sticky buns batch I made this morning disappeared within a few minutes of coming out of the oven, so the pies are all that's left to fill in whatever gaps might be left in our stomachs.

Rachelle and Terry seated at Derek's Transformer-like Table

We had some lively dinner discussion topics around my son's interesting dining room table.  Their apartment's kitchen is a vast improvement over the one they had at the other apartment.   The chairs are very comfortable and we enjoyed the food and the debates with equal relish.  Some of us have drifted off into a food coma, others watched a movie, or played video games or, in my case, snuck off to write this quick blog post to recap the highlight of my November for the last three years.  The long drive to North Texas from Northeastern Kansas is well worth the backaches and road hypnosis to spend a few precious days with my kids.  No matter how connected we may think we are thanks to the Internet, or technology, or cell phones, or tex messages, it just can't beat the up-close and personal reach-out-and-hug-your-loved one kind of experience.

This may be our final North Texas Thanksgiving gathering with both kids attending.  It will all depend on Rachelle's graduate school auditions and selection process.  Next year, I may have to decide between a Colorado or Chicago Thanksgiving with Rachelle or returning to North Texas to visit Derek and Royna.
But I won't dwell on a situation that doesn't yet exist and may not be an issue as I just remembered that we will be in Texas next November no matter what for the inaugural Formula One race to be held at the Circuit of the Americas scheduled to occur just four days after my husband's birthday.

Today, I'm just thankful to be here with my kids, their significant others and my husband, all together under one roof.  If only Roxy and Apollo could be here as well, then my life would be complete.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family and friends.

Happy Birthday Day!

Derek and My Dad (July 2011)

Today I wish my father "Happy Birthday!" and express my gratitude for all he does for me and my family. I baked him a fresh loaf of home-made bread this morning and will treat him to dinner sometime this weekend at a restaurant of his choice.

I will take a stroll down memory lane when I revisit this post in a couple of days, once I've had a chance to recover from a medical procedure I underwent yesterday. But I at least wanted to post a quick blurb for my eighteenth day of 'Thirty Days of Thankfulness' and shout out to my dad:

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Honey!

Happy Birthday Terry!

Today I am grateful for my husband, Terry. Today just also happens to be his birthday. So, for my fourteenth day of my 'Thirty Days of Thankfulness' series, I will take you on a walk down memory lane.

I met Terry in the fall of 1983, just a few weeks after leaving home in Leavenworth County to attend college at Wichita State University. My first room mate in my dorm was a valley girl; seriously, she was from that infamous valley in Southern California. We couldn't have been more different, but we made the best of it. She invited me out one weekend and we tried one of the local clubs called Backstage. Remember all that horrible pop music from the 80s ... everytime I hear Lover Boy or Duran Duran or Def Leppard, I flashback to that night.

I wandered around while Jill fit right in. I ended up in the balcony, watching the lighted dance floor. A guy approached me and asked my name. I told him it was Jon. His immediate reply was 'Don't give me that shit.' I was a bit taken aback by his aggresive response, but I was also used to people's unbelief in my name. I whipped out my driver's license, which I had placed in my back pocket, having left my purse locked in Jill's Volkswagon bug. After a somewhat rocky start, we spent the evening dancing and talking.

Over the next few months, I got to know Terry very well. He took me out on his dirt bike to the motocross courses carved out of the Big Ditch by him and his buddies. I listened to him play his Ibanez Artist (the same one he still owns and plays) and his trumpet. I'm still amazed at his musical abilities, which he seems to have passed on to our daughter, Rachelle.

Three years after meeting Terry, we had our first child, Derek. By that time, we had moved in with his father, whose health was beginning to decline after years of smoking. We purchased a house in Benton (about twelve or fifteen miles east of Wichita) and soon after Rachelle was born. We spent several good years in Benton, until we discovered Terry's health took a nose dive. After months of test and inconclusive diagnoses, a hematologist determined Terry had sarcoidosis, but not of the 'normal' variety which attacks most people's lungs; rather, his variant attacked his kidneys.

Faced with the prospect of a chronically ill spouse who would probably need my help to cope, I felt I needed a support network or safety net to help with raising Derek and Rachelle. With the passing of Terry's father in 1991, that left only his sister living within an hour of us. I had no family living in or near Wichita. I also knew I could make quite a bit more income moving to a larger metropolitan area like Kansas City.

I found a new job without too much stress or effort, but selling our house became a problem. Terry and Derek stayed behind in Benton. Terry single-handedly remodeled our one hundred year old farm house as best he could, while still suffering from the effects of his disease. Rachelle moved in with my parents and I worked a ton of hours, sleeping in my brother's attic and visit my parents (and Rachelle) on the weekends. Finally, in the fall of 1997, we were reunited, renting a house in Lansing so the kids could attend school in that school district. We also ended up renting the Benton, House, since we could not find a buyer before Terry and Derek migrated north.

Terry soon found a job working for H&R Block's call center in Lenexa. He steadily moved up the chain of command, but suffered the axe during a reorganization and lay offs in the early 00s. We did manage to find a beautiful home to purchase in Lansing and some nice automobiles (including a luxurious Buick Park Avenue Ultra and a nearly new Firebird Formula). Terry joined the local SCCA and won F stock in Solo II and Rookie of the Year.

Terry found local judo and jujitsu instructors for both Derek and Rachelle on post. He fully supported Derek as he competed locally, regionally and nationally as a judoka and in wrestling at Lansing High School.

We also joined a local church and eventually became the inaugural members of the praise band for the expanded contemporary service of that church. That endeavor forged a lasting friendship between Terry and the bass player, Sean. Even though neither of them play for that particular praise band, they still play together in their band WolfGuard.

We've come full circle now, with the children grown, off on their own, either married or still pursuing a college education. We're left with the Rotts and a nearly empty house. Thanks to Terry's previous experience in construction and at least two other remodels (his father's house and our other house in Benton), he is once again putting his expertise to good use as we update our home in Lansing.

For a guy the doctor's almost gave up on over fifteen years ago, he's still kicking and still looking good. I thank God every day he's still with me.

Happy Birthday Honey!

Terry's Senior Photo

Smile! You're About to be Victimized by My Camera

My brother, me, my grandmother and my cousin
(Photo taken by my father, developed and printed in
his darkroom in the 70s)

On my seventh day of 'Thirty Days of Thankfulness' I am thankful for cameras and photography. I was exposed to photographic equipment (in more ways the one) from an early age. My father had a dark room and quite a bit of photographic gear. He did weddings and local school functions (for Homecoming and the prom) and helped out the yearbook staff with snapshots from sporting events and music department concerts. I learned to take direction (how to tilt my head, where to focus my eyes) at an early age. Naturally, I inherited this fascination with capturing electromagnetic radiation.

Second Generation Shutterbug

I am a poor excuse for a photographer, even an amateur one. I like to think I have a good eye for spotting a great photograph, I just don't always have the right equipment with me, or remember how to use said photographic equipment to it's fullest potential. I really have no excuse, considering I am a second generation shutterbug. For years, I've heard stories from my dad and uncle about my grandfather's photographic exploits before, during and after WWII. I sent them each an e-mail requesting more detailed information and they gladly provided the following tidbits:

My father told me my grandfather, Ralph, became a photographer while attending Leavenworth High School during the 1930s. He also worked and learned from a local Leavenworth camera shop and portrait studio called Star Studio. My uncle added that photography during the 30s was still an arcane, complicated and a very hands-on hobby/profession.

Even with film purchased from commercial sources, photographic developing and printing (separate processes) involved the precise mixing of chemicals and control of temperature and humidity to develop and fix the image on the film, and to develop and fix the image on the paper. Both processes—plus the actual exposure of the photo-sensitive paper to the projected image from the developed film—required rigorous control of environmental conditions. Ralph took pictures for the Leavenworth High School year book. In 1937, Ralph won statewide (Kansas) honors as the top (or one of the top) science students in public high schools.

Both my dad and uncle confirmed that after graduating, Ralph also worked for the local newspaper, the Leavenworth Times as well as continuing at Star Studio. Some of his work appeared in the paper.

Ralph Andrea, WWII Army Photographer

My father remembers Ralph being stationed in the Pacific, specifically, New Guinea, during WWII as photo support of air corp operations. For a short time, Ralph stayed in Japan as part of the Occupation forces. During the Cold War, Ralph returned to active duty in the Air Force for Korea, but conducted his work from here in the U.S. Ralph stayed in the Air Force until retirement in 1968, being stationed to various sites around the world, working as tech and photo resource.

My dad remembered Ralph's equipment best. Ralph had several cameras including a 4x5 Speed Graphic; an Argus C3, an early 35mm; and, he did some early color work during WWII, before the film was available to the public. Ralph held a patent on a modification to the old flash bulb to keep them from going off when in close proximity to radar equipment.

My uncle relates more detailed information regarding Ralph's military service: With the onset of World War Two, Ralph volunteered for duty in the US Army Air Corps, enlisting at Sherman Field on Fort Leavenworth. Because of his experience with highly technical photography, he was elected for further training both as a photographer and as an officer (despite his not having a college education).

Ralph resting his arm on his Speed Graphic camera

During World War Two, photography units, such as Ralph's in the Pacific theater of war, performed all the various functions of photography. They took the pictures: aerial photography was in its infancy, ground combat photography, plus the more traditional documenting of people and events. They developed the film and prints, and they also interpreted the aerial reconnaissance pictures. Ralph was the supply officer of his small unit, which included responsibility for maintaining the necessary chemicals as well as support for their mobile, air-conditioned dark room tents.

After World War Two, Ralph earned a bachelor's degree in engineering at the University of Kansas, followed by a master's in photographic engineering at Boston University. His Air Force work included collaboration with General George W. Goddard, the "father" of modern aerial reconnaissance, developing concepts and systems for both air-breathing and satellite reconnaissance.

In his later years with the United States Air Force, Ralph worked at the Defense Intelligence Agency, Headquarters USAF and HQ Air Force Systems Command to identify and procure future reconnaissance systems. During that time, Ralph was involved in the development of computerized systems to record and transmit photographic systems. He retired in 1968, before the advent of micro-computers which revolutionized the capture and processing of images but his work brought the USAF to the cusp of exploiting those digital systems as they developed.

I wish to express my deep gratitude to my father and uncle who provided, at the drop of a hat, the scanned photographs and commentary for this section.

Family Vacation Slideshows

My dad took us (mom, my brother and I) all over the continental United States, following his brother's military migrations and also to visit my mother's relatives in Montana and the Pacific Northwest. Consequently, before I had graduated from high school, I'd been to all but three of the lower 48 states and at least two Canadian provinces. We visited nearly every National Park, massive hydroelectric dams, a few nuclear power plants, a meteor crater, caves, mountains, deserts, a rain forest and historical sites from coast to coast. Once we returned home, and the slides were returned from the developer, we'd gather with local friends and family for a re-cap slideshow of our latest vacation adventure.

Annual Christmas Card Family Photo

My mom, me, my dad, and my brother
(circa Christmas 1974)

Every fall, my dad would gather us together in the kitchen or the living, which he had converted temporarily to a portrait studio, complete with tripods, flash units, reflectors and light meters, to take that year's family photo to be used as our family Christmas card. My cousin, Wendell, still follows this tradition, although with a Star Wars-ian twist some years. I prefer to create a Christmas letter or newsletter, similar to a blog post, where I can include more than one photo, and usually of a more casual nature (as I prefer candids to posed snapshots). At the risk of dating myself (more than I already have), to the left you'll see the Andrea Family Christmas Card from 1974.

Recording My Own Family

Rachelle 'climbing the mountain'
that was our storm shelter.

Film still ruled the day when both my kids were born in the mid to late 80s, so photos of my fledgling family are scarcer but all the more precious. I used mostly disposable cameras, since I didn't own a single-lens reflex (SLR) camera. Once my kids started participating in sports and music, I invested my limited funds in a camcorder and now I have boxes and boxes of VHS-C videotapes in my basement. Whether or not I ever get them converted to digital format remains to be seen. By the time my children reached high school, I made the leap to digital video and photography. Now, instead of magnetic tape storage, I'm archiving family memories to DVD. I upload some of these videos to my infrequently used YouTube channel.

Sunrise, Sunset

Sunrise (Mar 2011)

I always seem to be in my car or the van when a spectacular sunrise or sunset occurs. So I'm reduced to the capabilities of the embedded camera in my cell phone which has a lens smaller than the eraser on a pencil. Occasionally, though, I'm prepared (or I forgot and left all my photographic equipment in the trunk of my car) and I plan a session from a local park or cemetery. My library has an east facing window, so I can catch the sunrise in the late fall and winter while sipping on my freshly steeped tea. I captured the sunrise to the left from that room in early March of this year. Sunsets are more difficult from my home, because it sits lower than K-7/US-73 to my west and on the other side of the highway is a large hill. So sunsets usually mean packing up everything and hopping in the car to West Mary Street, near the new Elementary School, or to Mount Muncie or Mount Calvary Cemeteries.

Astrophotography - My Final Frontier

Crescent Moon (Apr 2011)

I hope to merge two of my favorite hobbies once I retire: Astronomy and Photography. By then, I also hope to have moved to a location with darker night skies, a higher altitude and minimal obstructions (no close large trees, streetlights or hills). For now, I make do with an occasionally moon shot using either my telescope or just the telephoto lens and a tripod. Someday I plan to photograph Jupiter, Saturn, a galaxy and a nebula.

Thirty Days of Thankfulness

I missed the blogosphere bandwagon yesterday, not realizing the current posting 'fad' focuses on expressing what I'm thankful for in a daily dissertation. So please pretend that today is actually yesterday, the first of November in the year 2011.

I am thankful for my family.

Terry, Derek and Rachelle (Dec. 2010)

• Thankful for My Husband, Terry. More than twenty five years of love and friendship, through thick and thin. He never ceases to amaze me with his brilliant musicality and compositional talent. His recent interest in the culinary arts means I come home to a new delectable food adventure nearly every evening. He overcomes his disabling chronic illness each day, never succumbing to depression or giving up the fight. He tilts windmills with home remodeling contractors and global corporations peddling home appliances. He is passionate and compassionate and I love him dearly.
• Thankful for My Children, Derek and Rachelle.
• Derek, and his wife Royna, just returned home after a four day visit with us during the last weekend of October. Number One Son came into the world busting the Apgar scale, despite an arduous labor ending in an emergency C-section. Even though he didn't learn to walk until fourteen months, he never slowed down all the years we corralled him. He excelled at nearly all sports, having an uncanny sense of balance and an intuitive understanding of body mechanics, such that he competed nationally as a judoka in her early to mid teen years. His true artistic gift surfaced late in high school, blossoming under a mentor at community college. His talent for art and love of video games led him to the Guildhall at SMU and landed him an excellent placement even before graduation late last year.
• Rachelle, oh how I miss you. I haven't seen you face-to-face since last January. The wonders of the Internet at least allow me to listen to your concerts live, but it's just not the same as being there. At least I'll get my daughter fix in three weeks when Terry and I drive to North Texas for our third annual Moss Migration for Thanksgiving. Rachelle's gift for vocal performance surfaced almost before she learned to talk. I caught her singing as a baby and toddler almost more than she did talking. Years and years of choir drudgery and exceptional vocal mentors honed her magnificent mezzo soprano. As she approaches the last semester of her undergraduate degree in musicology at UNT, she is gearing up for a round of auditions (and the attendant travel) to various graduate schools around the country.
• Thankful for My Extended Family.
• My Father, who is always willing and able to help with demolishing a dying pine or trimming back a few limbs on my oak trees or any electrical wiring project that crops up. He readily supports my bread baking habit, where he reaps the rewards in loaves of fresh home-made and home-baked loaves. He also tags along on some of my astronomical adventures courtesy of the local Astronomical Society. I have a general class amateur radio license thanks to him. My troubleshooting talent can be directly traced back to me tagging along with him while growing up, as he fixed all many of items for family and friends.
• My Mother, who inspired me to read at a very early age (three or four) and instilled a love of all kinds of literature.
• My Uncle, Ron, and his wife Treva, are an inspiration and an example of a blessed marriage. Ron and I feed each other's addiction for the next great book to read to the chagrin of our spouse (I'm sure). Ron's watercolors keep winning awards at various galleries across the Midwest and East Coast. Someday soon I hope he returns to writing that next great short story, novella or novel that I know is lurking just below the surface.
• My Aunts, Melody and Jan. Melody, my mother's sister, lives close by, within an hour's drive in Topeka. Jan, my father's sister, lives farther away in Ohio, between her brothers (one in Kansas and one in Virginia). Both of these women hold special places in my heart and fond memories from my early childhood.
• My Cousins, starting with the paternal side of the tree, Wendell, Eric, David and Katy. Since I was the oldest cousin (from the oldest offspring), I got to see each and every one of you grow-up, from infants to adults with families of your own. Katy, the youngest, tied the knot just this past June (on or very near both my daughter's birthday and what would have been my grandmother's eighty-ninth birthday). Wendell and his wife Kristen recently became the proud parents of twin boys, William and Logan. On the maternal side of the tree, I have many cousins, some of which I've reconnected with on Facebook and others who remain in obscurity. Since my mother was somewhere in the middle of six children, I am not the oldest of the cousins on this side of the family tree. Oldest to youngest (by family group): Roberta, Peter, Rebecca; Tracy, Kelly and Phillip; Brandi and Summer; and, Charles and Anne. I know I'm missing some in the above list, mostly because there are cousins out there who are younger than my kids and I've only met them or heard of them once or twice.

Even though 2011 marked the first year of my life without a living grandparent, I am grateful for the time I had with both my grandmothers. Doris, my father's mother, passed away last year, and Juanita, my mother's mother, passed away in June of 2005.

Juanita and me (at my high school graduation)

Quotes on Families:

Families are like fudge - mostly sweet with a few nuts.

~~~ Author Unknown

When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them.

~~~ George Bernard Shaw

One of life's greatest mysteries is how the boy who wasn't good enough to marry your daughter can be the father of the smartest grandchild in the world.

~~~ Jewish Proverb

Family life is full of major and minor crises -- the ups and downs of health, success and failure in career, marriage, and divorce -- and all kinds of characters. It is tied to places and events and histories. With all of these felt details, life etches itself into memory and personality. It's difficult to imagine anything more nourishing to the soul.

~~~ Thomas Moore

In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future.

~~~ Alex Haley

To Scream or Keep Silent, That Is the Dying Question

Scream by Edvard Munch

September went into a tailspin about a week ago. I can't remember the last time I actually received personal good news from family or friends. Death or dying and depression crowd around me, jostling for position and attention, blotting out my surroundings: beautiful sunrises and sunsets, crystal clear night skies bursting with twinkling stars, perfect weather any southern California native would drool over.

I woke up this morning after having tossed and turned and lost the skirmish with my sheet and pillows. Apollo couldn't wait to jump up and greet me with a wagging tail and unconditional canine adoration. Roxy slept on, sprawled on the floor, oblivious to anything but her dreams of breakfast. I rubbed the crusty, dried sleep from my eyes, slipped on my reading glasses and woke up my Nook to see what had happened in the wider world while I pretended to sleep.

I soon read the sad, tragic news of the death of Sara Douglass (aka Sara Warneke). I discovered this astounding Aussie female fantasy writer a half dozen years ago and loved everything she wrote, especially Threshold, the first novel I found written by her. As I perused the various postings on Twitter and Facebook about her passing, I found her blog post from March 2010 she entitled "The Silence of the Dying." I took a few minutes to read the entire post, after which I couldn't help but shiver, especially after the seemingly prophetic nature of the most recent Doctor Who episode "Closing Time" wherein the Doctor seems to fall apart (emotionally) as he approaches the day of his death (flashback to the start of this season and the "Impossible Astronaut"). He even utters some dialog containing the words 'silence' and 'dying.'

After reading Sara's thoughts on how modern society sticks it's head in the sand with respect to death (and the dying), I pondered my own situation. Part of my September tailspin centers on a sharp worsening in my health. Par for the medical course, I'm running the gauntlet of various tests, procedures and eventually a biopsy (scheduled for mid-October), all of which amounts to endless waiting for results and the accompanying anxiety. Just as Sara describes in her blog post, I prefer to keep silent, as I don't want to appear 'weak' by complaining. Of course, at this stage of the 'game' I'm not in much pain or discomfort (not compared to what Sara or other cancer victims endure). And I must put up a good front for my husband, one of the chronically ill routinely maligned or ignored by modern day society. He needs me to be 'strong' and I will remain so as cheerfully as I can.

Normally, I look forward to the beginning of October and the advent of autumn with peace and joy in my heart. Of course, the fact that my birthday occurs the day after the first of October wouldn't have anything to do with that would it? But this year, no birthday cake with sputtering scores of candles will great me. Instead, my husband and I will travel south, to his home town, to console and support his life-long friend and his wife in the sudden and unexpected loss of her mother, so soon after his mother's death. Oh, and their dog died last week in the midst of all this family tragedy.

I am full of unanswered questions and troublesome, uncomfortable thoughts today, ones that I wish I had the courage to shout out on a street corner to the self-absorbed oblivious passersby. Rather than deprive a homeless person of their accustomed spot, I will jump up on my bloggity soap box instead.

From a Christian worldview, I can understand some of the silence surrounding death and dying. Jesus conquered the grave, therefore, it follows, that we can sweep this whole messy business of dying under the proverbial rug. (Yes, I'm being sarcastic). Yet, even Jesus wept (and raised Lazarus from the grave). Jesus also suffered, but not silently, and died, nearly alone, on a cross we nailed him to, at a crossroads dung heap outside Jerusalem. Two thousand years later, we've sanitized and compartmentalized dying, hiding it from ourselves so we can ignore the writing on our own walls.

I ask that you stop for a moment and spend time, yes, that very precious commodity you can never, ever get back, with a friend or family member who is dying. Don't send flowers, or stuffed animals or Hallmark cards. Give them comfort. Don't expect them to put you at ease about their situation. Embrace the truth. For you know, it's not 'if' we're going to die, it's when. We're all dying. And I, for one, will not go silently into the night.