October Days

This is sunset on Lake Mille Lacs near Isle, facing Father Hennepin State Park.

This has been serenity for me and QH, the love of my life, the last few weeks. We drive an hour to get there, and an hour to get back home, but the last few weeks it has been worth it. The weather has been phenomenal, even though the fishing hasn't, but when you can see bald eagles diving for fish, loons diving and surfacing and a sunset like this that pictures don't do justice, it's worth the work and the miles to be there.

I'm sad this season and this month have gone by so fast. Fall seemed to be here suddenly and going just as fast. But I feel like I've enjoyed more of it this year than I did last year. And while I didn't do as much canning this year, I know I've accomplished a lot in the last couple of months, much more than I believed I could or expected I could.

With winter coming, I know things have to be done to prepare. The windows need to be covered in plastic. I need to find the boots, the winter coats and gloves. The winter car kits needs to be re-assembled and put in the vehicles, not to mention the cars themselves need to be attended to: oil changes, tire rotations, and checking of the antifreeze levels.

Outside, the tomatoes are gone. The flowers are dying more with each passing frost. The hummingbird feeders are now clean and drying and waiting for spring.

I know most people think the fall season is depressing, but I find it rejuvenating. Halloween is coming and there is something special about the bare, dark arms of the trees stretching into the night sky, with a full moon, as if they were hands reaching up to hold it there in the sky. The brown and dry corn fields, the scarecrows, the pumpkins, the rustle of leaves as you walk through them. The smell of wood burning in a bonfire outside, and the call of ducks and geese as they gather and fly overhead.

I think of all the things I accomplished this year, and all the things I still want to accomplish. I went to the Grand Opening of the new bookstore in town called the Reading Frenzy Bookshop, and I was like a kid at Christmas. A place for me to buy books, donate the books I have read, and soon, to have my own book sitting on that shelf for sale. I saw myself in there at my own book signing, and dreamed last night of holding a writing class there. All things I have yet to accomplish in the physical world, but still alive in my imagination. It may take a month or two to make it happen, but I will accomplish my writing dreams. 

October is a time for me to check my yearly "To-Do" List and see if I am where I want to be.

I love this time of year, and love the sights and sounds of all the October Days.

Cherish them while you can.

You Just Never Know What People Are Struggling With

Tonight started like any other night at work. Later, it would change in a direction I never expected.

I heard the story on the news about a man in Siren, Wisconsin, who was killed after shooting at people randomly, wounding 3 people, including a sherriff's deputy who was shot in the arm and ended up firing on the suspect. The suspect was shot in the throat and died on the way to the hospital. The full story is here at this link:

http://wcco.com/crime/siren.shooting.deputy.2.1934767.html

When I heard this story on the news, I thought, "What the hell is going on in this world?" I was glad to hear that nobody else was killed or seriously hurt. Then you think, "What on Earth could be so bad that you have to start shooting at people because they are there? There had to be something really wrong with that person (the suspect) for them to just go out shooting like that."

For the people who were shot at, it had to be terrifying. I can't imagine what they must have gone through, especially the van with a family and children in the vehicle.

I feel sad for the family who lost their loved one in such a manner, wondering what could have been done to help them. What were they going through that was so terrible? Did they just lose their job? Did they break up with a significant other? Did someone they care about recently pass away suddenly? You just never know what people are struggling with, which is why it's best to try and be kind to people, even if they aren't very kind to you.

Mike Ritchie was someone I only knew a few short weeks at my new job. He was a set-up tech, and was usually the first one in with the start ups and a smile. He usually brought us Jolly Rancher candies or butterscotches and was happy to tell us stories about Siren, Wisconsin, where he drove home to every day from work, and then drove back to work each day to Anoka, Minnesota. I knew he liked to hunt because he talked about deer hunting and bear hunting.

The last day I saw him, he looked like he was upset about something. He didn't smile and joke like he did before. He didn't say anything. He just came in with some paperwork and then turned around and left. Not like him at all. I remembered him saying his cat had died, and he was upset about that, but I didn't know if that was troubling him or if there was something else. I didn't know much about him.

I didn't ask.

It was none of my business.

I just chalked it up to he was having a bad day and thought, "He'll work it out for himself."

Nobody but Mike and God know what was going through his mind on Sunday morning at 11:45 a.m. when he began shooting randomly at people in Siren, Wisconsin. No autopsy in the world will be able to rerun the last thoughts going through his brain. It will say if he was on drugs, alcohol or under the influence of some other substance. But for his family and his friends, the question will still be, "Why?"

Mike, I hope you find peace, wherever you are. And I'm sorry I didn't ask what was bothering you. I don't know if it would have made a difference or not in what happened on Sunday. I'll never know.

My prayers go out to those people Mike shot at. I hope you all can overcome this terrifying incident and can still find the good in people.

Please, everyone, be kind to one another. And if you see someone is not acting the way they usually do, please, ask them if they need to talk, or if there is something they need. Sometimes people just need to vent and sometimes just knowing somebody acknowledges they are there means the difference between triumph or tragedy.

But if someone is depressed and in trouble, make it your business, especially if they are a friend or a relative. You may save more than one life just by asking a simple question, "Are you ok?"

Cooler Weather, Fall Cleaning and Chicken Feet

Fall is my favorite time of year, always has been, always will be. I used to look forward to shopping for school supplies, new clothes, and new shoes and the changing colors of the leaves on the trees. The weather here is considerably cooler than it was 2 or 3 weeks ago and I am welcoming it with open arms. Soon I will be cooking and canning and preparing what I can for the winter to come. There is a sense of accomplishment, love and pride when you look at all those jars, big and small sealed and full of something spicy or sweet.

The funny thing is, when I was younger, I hated helping my mother with canning. Now, I think it's the greatest thing!

The last couple of weeks have been really out of control and I've done what I can to cope. I can't control what's happening around me to the ones I love or what will happen later on down the road for them, but I can control my own environment. Fall Cleaning Bug has hit me hard, not just at home, but at work as well. Out with the clutter, and the stuff that is just collecting dust and taking up space. I'm beginning to feel a lot better, better than I have in a really long time.

I keep asking, "Why the hell did I hang on this? What the hell was I thinking?" The answer is simple. I wasn't thinking. I was impulsively buying stuff I didn't need or stuffing crap in boxes or tubs or containers and stuffing them under my bed or my closets. I still feel a bit guilty for throwing things away, but most of the stuff I have I know I can take to Goodwill or the Salvation Army and it can be put to good use by someone else. I just have to stop and live with the empty spaces. No matter how uncomfortable it feels at first. I know I can't let things clutter up like I have in the past. It's not healthy to hang on to things you don't use or love anymore. I have to learn to let go. It's hard, because I've lost so much in my life, and using the stuff to fill the voids was comforting for a while, but now, it's annoying me, and I realize it's rather sad. I don't want to live like this anymore.

And I really don't want to end up on the next episode of "Hoarders."

It was during my lastest cleaning binge this weekend that I had one of the most humorous moments in the last month. It was Sunday, and the weather was beautiful, so I had the windows and the doors wide open. I'm on my hands and knees scrubbing my bathroom floor, and I got up to shake out my rugs and sweep and mop the kitchen and the entryway. I came into the kitchen and saw a spot of red behind my kitchen chair. I looked under the table. Guess what I saw?

CHICKEN FEET! 

My neighbor has chickens and they have been spotted roaming around the road and the driveway. I don't really know they are around, but that morning, the rooster made his presence known under my open bedroom window. After a few "choice words" I heard the window shut and I went back to sleep. And now, here I am looking at Mr. Rooster's feet under my kitchen table!

Alex was sitting in front of the computer with his headphones on, watching a movie, so he was oblivious to what was going on. I got his attention, and asked him to help me get the chicken out of the house.

We tried to shoo the rooster out of the doors, but he ended up going behind my couch, then under the end table. Finally, he found his way out behind the recliner. All the while I'm trying to whistle, coo, click and wondering, "What the hell do you say to a chicken to get their attention?" I'm a country girl at heart, but I've never had any experience with farm fowl, so I was improvising the best I could.

He finally exited and I shut both the doors.

It's too bad I didn't have the camera going. It would have been hilarious on YouTube!

I hope you all have a good week!

Good News-Times Four!

Here are the updates on the family. It's all good news (I'm an optimist)!

The update on my Dad: The test results came in on Friday. He did have cancer. The mass was contained in the section removed from his colon. Only one (1) lymph node out of twenty-seven (27) showed cancer cells. This means the cancer hasn't spread to any other organs and he will have to go through treatment once he recovers from surgery. I can't tell you how lucky he is, or how lucky we are this is how things turned out. Now we just need to get him to cooperate with what the doctors want him to do, like no heavy lifting, following instructions, etc. He may be coming home on Tuesday.

The update on Virgil: QH's brother came through his quadruple bypass on Wednesday and may be home on Tuesday as well.

The update on Alex: The pins were removed from his right hand on Tuesday (the same day as Dad's surgery). He's continuing with hand therapy and still on work restrictions, but the doctor is pleased with his progress so far. He may have to have a second surgery to straighten out his fingers. We'll have to wait and see.

The update on Jesse & Patrice: On Friday, September 10, they welcomed Lillian Mary Milless into the world. We visited her and her parents on Saturday. She is beautiful and healthy and is going to be well loved, like her big sister, Ava Jeanne.

Thanks to everyone for your prayers, well wishes, and good thoughts. We all appreciate your love and support. Now I can't wait to go back to my regular schedule, with a few improvements. But I feel like we won the lottery the last couple of months. Things could've been so much worse, but I am so grateful they turned out the way they did. Now to put this all behind us and keep moving forward.

Have a great week and remember to count your blessings!

Goal for Today: Live

This Labor Day weekend didn't pan out like we wanted. I'm telling all of this here for my family and friends, so they will know what happened.

Saturday afternoon, my mother called to tell me my father was in the hospital. I was shocked, but not surprised. Dad hasn't been feeling well for months. He has had digestion issues, and twice that I know of, he's been suffering from bowel obstructions. This time he had one again, and he surrendered and let Mom take him to North Memorial in Maple Grove to the Emergency Room.

Sunday, Mom called to say Dad would be having surgery. She added, "Your Dad has colon cancer." I felt the blood drain down to my feet. His sister, Colleen, had colon cancer. She lived with a colostomy bag for the rest of her life, which ended way too soon last year in August. I got ready and Alex and I went to the hospital to see him.

Dad didn't look good. He was in pain, and still trying to pass the obstruction. The doctors had a large bottle of clear liquid with some pineapple flavoring that he was supposed to drink by the end of the day to help things along. We didn't stay long so Dad could rest. My brother, Andy, and his lovely wife, Lisa, drove all the way to Minnesota from Oklahoma and arrived on Monday.

Monday, Dad was scheduled for surgery, but it was post-poned to Tuesday. We saw Dad at the hospital and he was looking better than I'd seen him in months. He was smiling, drinking coffee and sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. I was hopeful, this might actually turn out okay. Please God, let this turn out okay.

Tuesday, surgery day, I called my very understanding employer and told them what was going on, and that I would not be in and why. I was there with Mom, Kelley, Andy, Lisa and Alex. Alex and I had a busy day already because Tuesday was the day his pins came out of his hand. He called it a "declawing" and now I can't call him "Wolverine" anymore. It was a relief, for both of us.

The surgeon, Dr. Kern, was a striking resemblence to my cousin, Nick, Jr. He explained in plain English what he was going to do and how, and what his goals were, best case and worst case. I imagined him in a uniform as a military surgeon, like he just got home from Iraq or Afghanistan and walked right back into performing surgery on civilians. Dr. G.I.Joe.

Mom all through this was shaking, all the time. She wasn't going to be distracted by anything or anyone. She couldn't take her mind off of what was happening. Neither could I. I don't think anyone of us has slept right or eaten right or paid much attention to anything the last few days.

The surgery started around 2:10 p.m. and it was over when Dr. Kern walked out at 3:40 p.m. to explain how things went. Better than expected. Dad was able to keep his spleen, no colostomy bag, and Dr. Kern was able to sew together both pieces of his colon and he took the mass they found, and a few lymph nodes to send for testing for cancer. We should hear by Friday, September 10th, what the results are. As he left, and walked out of the lobby, Mom collapsed into tears.

"It's over, it's over, it's finally over," she sobbed into her hands. We all gathered around Mom, hugging her and crying.

Before Dad went to surgery that day, I looked at his board. It tells his name, the date, the name of his doctor, etc. Down a little lower, it reads: "Goal for Today".

Dad wrote: "Live."

Mission Accomplished, Dad. Mission Accomplished.

Those of you out there reading this, please, if you are not feeling yourself, or if you have a high risk of colon cancer or prostate cancer in your family history, don't let economics get in the way of your health. If you have to beg, borrow or steal, or sell a few things, please, get your colonoscopy exam after age 50. Get your mammograms and your pap smears. Don't die of embarrassment or because you think you can't afford it.

Goal for Today: Live.

Cooler Sunday

Last night we were at the Wolf Den for the Annual Pirate Party when we noticed the weather changed quite drastically. There was a small shower that passed through and then it was like all the heat and humidity was sucked out by the blowing wind. I was ready to head to the car to get my jacket, but I braved it out until we went home. It was so nice and cool and refreshing! I didn't want it to end! And the breeze was keeping the mosquitos at bay so it was wonderful to be outside.

Today we spent most of the day with the windows wide open and the air conditioning off. Man, what a difference that makes! Much cooler Sunday, makes for a more productive and happier me. I was going to spend the day in the house cleaning and cooking and other things, but instead, Alex and I went to the video store in Zimmerman to rent some movies. Then we headed to my parents house to see my Dad who just returned home from North Dakota on Saturday night. He's the last one to see Alex's hand, and we gave him some excellent black grapes we bought at Jim's Market in Zimmerman. Mom and Dad sent home some homegrown potatoes, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes along with a piece of smoked fish and some salt water pickles.

In telling the story of what happened to Alex on Thursday night, we noticed something. Thursday, August 12, is George's birthday. George is QH's Dad who passed away in January of 2009. And the name of the surgeon was George Landis. I believe QH's Dad was watching over Alex the night of the accident.

I am still so very grateful he didn't have a worse injury than what he had. I'm still fighting that mother's instinct to do everything for him because he's my baby and he's hurt. But Alex is a grown man, and not a baby anymore. He wants to do as much for himself as he can, and yes, just like his mother, he won't ask for help unless it's absolutely necessary, meaning, as a last resort. I know that if I baby him, he'll be worse off, and he will not heal. If he meets the challenges he's facing on his own, in his own way, he will speed his own recovery, and hopefully stave off any depression or feelings of uselessness he might have with only being able to use one hand. It's a hard lesson for both of us, but we will be stronger for it.

This has been a hard week for lessons. In the town of Zimmerman, a young man named Glen "Bubba" Bye died in a car accident two weeks ago. He was the quarterback of the Zimmerman Thunder football team and a baseball player with a very bright future. He was on his way to work when he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a tree. A Good Samaritan was with him after finding him, so he was not alone when he died, according to his mother on a recent news report.

I cannot imagine what pain that family is going through. My son is home, he's broken right now, but he's going to be okay. I worried about him being on the ship when he was in the Navy, when he went to Haiti during Operation Unified Response and when he was in South America. I imagined all sorts of horrible things happening that didn't happen, and then he comes home and this happens.

In true Crawford Tradition, if things are going really well, start worrying. Something's coming and it ain't good. I was hoping and praying Alex would be unscathed, but it was not meant to be. I know he must be playing the "What If?" game, "If I'd only done this, not that, then I would be ok." Well, those games don't change what's happened. The best use of your energy and time is to heal from what's happened and move on, remembering the lessons learned.

More Gray Hairs

I came home Thursday night after work, looking forward to a nice, long shower, the air-conditioned comfort of my house, and a fun weekend. What greeted me as I arrived was QH with a worried look on his face. Uh-Oh.

My son, Alex, broke all four fingers on his right hand in a press brake machine at his job. He was taken by ambulance to North Memorial Hospital and had to have emergency surgery. QH said the fingers weren't crushed, just broken, and they were still attached, both good news, but he had trouble finding my new work number and wasn't able to call and tell me sooner. My cell phone works sporadically at best in the shop, so there was no way for him to reach me. Since Alex was in surgery, he decided to wait up until I came home to tell me.

I jumped into the shower, changed, and gathered some clothes and Alex's eyeglasses (he wears contacts), and pretty much ran out the door. QH was exhausted, and had to work the next day, so he went to bed. I drove in a wild thunderstorm to Robbinsdale, praying Alex would be okay. I wouldn't know how bad it really was until I saw my son.

When I was nearing Maple Grove, Alex called me and said he was out of surgery and in a room. He gave me the room number and I could hear he was groggy and tired, and I told him I was on my way with his clothes and his glasses. I got to the hospital, checked in with information, and made my way up the elevator to his room.

When I walked in, I saw his hand propped up on a pile of pillows, wrapped in a splint. His finger tips were visible and were nice and pink, not black and blue. I did see some dried blood, and he said it did bleed when it happened, but he said he could feel his fingertips and his thumb was ok. He said he heard the bones break when it happened, and they cut his T-shirt off when he got to the hospital. He also said he felt really stupid. I told him to get over that. Beating himself up over something he can't change was not going to do him any good. I told him it was an accident, and to concentrate on resting for now, and healing from this later.

His bosses at work were at the hospital earlier, checking up on how he was doing. Telling him he still has a job when he's ready to come back to work.

The nurses came in and gave me a few blankets and a pillow to settle in for the night. I slept in the recliner, watching the storm rage outside the window. I was thankful he would be ok, as I drifted in and out, but knew until I spoke with the surgeon, I would not relax until I knew for sure.

We spent the day at the hospital yesterday, and finally the surgeon, Dr. George Landis, arrived. I was immediately relieved by his presence, he was very kind and explained what happened with his hand, how he repaired it, and what his prognosis would be. I felt relief when he said there was no nerve damage and minimal tissue damage to his hand and with some therapy, he would get the full use of his right hand. He said Alex could come home and set about discharging him with instructions.

In 21 years, I've never had to go through Alex having a broken bone, or a trip to the emergency room. I told him 21 years without a broken bone wasn't bad, considering I had 6 broken bones before 2nd Grade, 4 stiches in my knee at 9 years old and a concussion at 15 years old.

I am grateful to the surgeon, the medics, and the nurses who took care of my son before I got to the hospital and while I was there. I can't say enough about the excellent job they did, and my gratitude extends to the supervisors Alex worked with who called 911 and put ice on his hand right away.

He's got a lot to think about in the next few weeks, and getting around with one hand is going to be a challenge, but my son is my son. He will come through this stronger than he ever thought he was, and while he will have some scars, I know he'll be a better man for it.

Thanks to my family and friends who have sent their well wishes for Alex and for me and QH. I have a few more gray hairs, but my son is still here and he will heal.