The Year Life Said Pay Attention

Happy New Year.
2012 was full of challenges and blessings. 
Brennan was born on his Great Gramma's 100th birthday.  She died 4 years ago tonight at one minute to midnight.  Miss you Mom and know you are watching over us.
The seemingly impossible was made possible with the gift of a liver transplant.
My brother visited.  My nieces visited and my son surprised me with a visit.
I got my first tattoo.
There was no sliding through this past year.  At every turn I was forced to sink or swim and to pay attention to my faith, my God.
Friends and family at every turn kept me going.  I have been blessed beyond measure.
In the next year I cannot imagine what will come my way.  I have learned to expect the unexpected and to be greatful for every moment. 

Leo in the snow

I got to spend ten days with this grandson and in April he will have a little  brother or sister come to join him. 
I hope to be more mindful of every moment in 2013 and to take better care of myself.  I want to see these beautiful grandchildren of mine grow up. 
Happy New Year and thank you God for this year. 
Anne
 

Yes I Did

Did you really do it?  Or is it just a picture?  No, I really did it. That is my wrist you are looking at.

Something that says what I can't always manage to say.  Something beautiful. Something I never would have dreamed that I would do.  Yet there it is along with the miracles and the Faith.  There is my one and only tattoo.
I am home. We are all presently in a safe harbour.  God is with us.
Anne

What's Knitting?

Not Lace Mitts...

They are beautiful, but way to complicated for me to be concentrating on here.

It was a good day. I made another pair of these.

 

The white lace mitts are in a tangle in my purse.  One day I swear I will learn to knit lace.  Just not one of 'these' days.

:) Anne

 

The Blessing

God has blessed us
with a gift that is beyond compare in this world.

A family has chosen to give an organ for transplant. 

God gives freely and with great magnitude.  This family has also.

Out of the deep and profound loss of their twenty year old son or daughter they have been somehow able to give life to others.  How?  It is so hard to imagine this kind of bravery. 

It is life changing.
There are no words...

I have spent 24 years thinking how some day this gift and ONLY this gift would save the life of someone I love.  I have prayed for this countless nights.
I have begged, I have wept, I have had faith and I have lost faith only to find it again.  I have given it to God and I have taken it back many times. 

God in his great Mercy knows a mother's heart. 

There are three mother's hearts here. A birth mother. The mother of the donor. There is my heart the adoptive mother's heart.  God holds them all.

How do I go on.  What can I give of myself?  So great these gifts to me have been.

It is truly humbling and life changing.

We are all still in the midst of this.  As the days go by I need to find a path that will allow me to give back some how, some way, even a measure of
this gift. 

The Dr said today to measure progress one day at a time. Yesterday I was told by the same Dr to measure progress in hours.  I have been told this is a roller coaster ride this experience of receiving an organ transplant. It is.

Only God knows the answers to life's mystery.  To God and God alone I turn and give thanks and ask for Peace to be upon these other Mother's. 

Registering to be an organ doner is easy.  It is a box to check that says yes this is my wish.  It is an important choice to make.  Important because the act of giving these organs is far far more complicated for the loved ones the donor leaves behind.  I have thought about this so much in the last five days.

The reality that the death of a loved one is imminent.
The family gathering.
The bewildering choices and decisions to carry out this request. 
The final good byes.
The transplant team of Dr's and Interns waiting at the end of the hall. 
The behind the scenes team of experts and coordinators.
The long list of waiting terminally ill patients.
The donor's wishes.
The final choice and permission.
The transplant recipient waiting.  Getting the call. Waiting. Getting prepared. Waiting.
The unknown.  The known.
It is unknown who each other are.
It is known that there is love and hope.
Hope from the donor family that a life cut short will have Grace and Meaning in this sharing.
Hope from the receipients family that life will be given an opportunity to flourish with Grace and Meaning.

God is in this balance.  It is neither fair or unfair. None of life is. 
It is what we get.  What God gives or takes is beyond words. 

I am praying for understanding of what I cannot imagine. 
I am praying for a good outcome for us all. For the Grace of God that passes all understanding to enfold each one of us and give us peace.

Anne.













 

Packing For the Hospital

I started packing. There is only worrying and packing to do. I choose to pack.
I have my mother's bible ready. It is crammed with notes and papers.

Mom's Bible

There are passages marked in here that I know will be perfect when I need them.
Then I packed the project bags.
Hospital Knitting is different from any ordinary knitting.  I guess it is even more ordinary.  It is knitting that you just knit. The stitches you know and can rely on.  The ones that comfort you. 
I have an old friend in this bag.

Kathleen Taylor's wristers

 Wristersby Kathleen Taylor. They are the perfect wristers and so pretty made with bright self striping yarn. Kathleen writes a blog that I follow. She is a writer and fiber instructed her patterns are easy to follow.
In this bag I have Knitty wristers.  Knitty is always good. Like thousands of old and dear friends are stitting with you knitting along on their much beloved patterns.
This is my knitty project bag with some beautiful wool yarn a friend sent me last year.


Fall Berry By Knitty
 

this wrister has a pattern so it will be for the really good days. Since the yarn is white I will be able to see the pattern through my cataracts.  Yeah I'm hoping too.


Groups of Loops Cowl

by Dani Hodge

I have lush old Shetland Wool in this bag. For a simple cowl. I found this yarn at a thrift shop and I know it has waited years for this chance to be picked up and worked with.



Silver's Sock Class
 

Here is a bag of socks.  The endless socks. Not the colonoscopy socks those are a dead end... These are hopeful pretty blue stretchy socks  .... Hopeful I can find the original pattern. (and I did on ravelry)
Here is everything all lying out and ready for packng.

& yes the Xanax is packed.  A mother needs HER Mother's  bible, her knitting and her Xanax when her child is in the hospital. 
They all fit in the big red Donate Blood project bag

I have not donated blood lately, my H & H don't want to cooperate, neither does my blood pressure.  Maybe you will have the opportunity to donate.  It is so important.

I am ready and waiting for the call that says "yes YES" and then I will book my flight and leave for Boston.  It is just hours away. I am ready. I have been ready for years. 
I am praying for the donor family. I am praying for my family and for the Dr's hands and hearts.
I am relying on my angels above and my friends and family here on earth.  I am in God's hands and so is my son.
I am full of hope and Xanax. Please pray with me. God to guide us, God to Hold us. God to bring us Salvation.
Anne.

Waiting

Waiting ...  Merriam Webster
verb
to remain stationary in readiness or expectation
to look forward  expectantly
to hold back expectantly
to be ready and available
to remain temporarily neglected or unrealized

Wikipedia, Patience
Patience (or forbearing) is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

Waiting for a transplant...
be steadfast
have faith
be ready to be neglected or unrealized
be ready and remain expectant

Hope is a better
word.
Hope is faith
Hope is being available and expectant.
Faith is being ready even if what you hope for is unrealized. Faith is knowing God is always with you.
Hope is intangible
...it is the lifeline that you cannot see.

Hope is taking a leap of Faith

Transplant Issues

A knitting friend has written in her blog about a transplant issue that boggles my mind...
I especially feel the pain from this on several levels.  One I have someone very dear to me waiting on a transplant list...
Two I too get to go on luxury trips to these amazingly expensive convention hosting Hotels.  So here is the pot calling the kettle black... My trips are paid for by Pacemaker corporations...
The same issues apply though... lack of money where it is needed most...
Of course buisness's need to make profits, and non profits...don't be fooled make money for the people who run them... naturally they need to make a living too. 
Politics aside isn't the person waiting for assistance the true and final issue? 
here is the link to my friend's blog:
http://araigneestangledweb.blogspot.com/2012/06/dirty-little-secrets.html?showComment=1340425106169#c7773287870558702380
I only know what is in my heart...
Organs need to go where needed as fast as possible...

Lily of The Field
Precious Life

A boy

Prayer                                                                                   
for a boy
praying
a moment
of wonder
and waiting


Prayer 
my boy
for time
a chance
praying.


relinquish the wish
to God.
breathe.


Anne 3/7/12

The Best of a Mess. Prayer Shawl

wristers

Prayer Shawl

Some things are just too hard. Like knitting a sock.  I have spent hours with four metal sticks and some baby fine wool making little knots and loops to create a pair of socks.  Maybe it is the light so I have adjusted the goose neck lamp. Or could it be my progressive lens glasses?  I have cleaned them thirteen-umpty times. What to do? Frog the sock and start over? Call it quits and admit I am too old, too blind, too arthritic to knit a sock? How useful would bulky knit socks on large needles be?  At least I could see them and make them, my fingers would not cramp so much with the larger needles.  What is the point?  I should be enjoying this.  Decision made I am not going to give up on socks.  They will be a work in progress....and put away for a while in the stash bin. I will try wristers in fine wool and tiny needles first. At least no heal to turn. They will stand a chance of getting finished. I feel more determined with this decision and I really want my own pair of delicate wristers for semi chilly Florida weather.
So back to difficult situations and knitting.
My son is on a liver transplant list.  He has been fighting his disease  for over 2 decades now and yet he is so young. Thirty-four. Not fun, unfair, sad beyond words.  I weep. I pray. I put it out of my mind. I can't get it out of my mind. It becomes my mind. I have no mind. I am finding the point. I am missing the point. He is better. He is worse. Dr's are miracle workers. Dr's know nothing. Prayer helps, Prayer frustrates me. I can't pray, all I do is pray.  I am on my knees. I am mad. I am handing it over...no I am taking it back.  I am a mother.

Ross at 24

I am knitting my way to the city of oblivion. Along the way I make some nice things. I make messes. I solve some problems. I frog my knitting. I become a yarn snob. No I will use any yarn...just keep busy knitting. I use yarn I got at Goodwill. Acrylic. No I need to use pure wool. Wool so natural the lanolin faint on my fingers.  I need the connection to life to real wool. Sheep. Silly sheep in the fields.  Chewing their way to the earth to get every taste of green grass. Sheep are such good lawnmowers.
I grew up with sheep. My brother Ross raised sheep. My mother's oldest son and he died so young at twenty-four.  My oldest son trying so hard not to die young.
Sheep, wool, knitting, mothers, children, prayer, projects, desire, love, things that fill my life and clutter my mind.  I am doing my best in this mess. My best is not enough.  The wool is lying slack in my hands with metal needles all akimbo. My son in a hospital.  My son on a list. Far away in the north. My prayers sent into the abyss.
I picked up the Acrylic yarn from Goodwill and began to make a prayer shawl. K3P3, and the opposite on the returns.  Father, Son, Holy Ghost. The Best of a Mess. Prayer.

Pray