Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Category: Death and Dying

March 7, 2024

Does truth matter anymore?

Better yet, do we realize how difficult it is to say exactly what we want or need to say? This poem from Without a Flight Plan caught my eye yesterday. I can’t get it off my mind…especially given what’s at stake for us here in the USA.

Half truths + Half lies = Lies

And what about real life?

Half-truths
Half-lies
Does it really matter?

Yes means ‘Yes…but’
Not now means ‘maybe
in the sweet by and by’

Mind your manners
Sweeten your voice
Remember who you are not

You do care
About your children
Don’t you?

Or your job
Or your good reputation
Or your life

Sly words
Strung like pearl
Bullets

If you flee
They will find you
In the end

Now….
What did you want
To say?

© 2021 by Elouise Renich Fraser
Poem published in Without a Flight Plan, 2021, page 95

Sometimes I wonder whether we in the USA are looking for truth, or for entertainment. Something that will lull us into the sad belief that everything is going to turn out fine, just fine.  Not just everything about upcoming elections this fall, but what’s going on in the rest of the world. To say nothing about constant upheavals of nature and the weather.

I’m not suggesting we should become experts. We already have too many so-called ‘experts’ flooding our news media 24 hours a day. We can, however, become better listeners. Not just to our way of seeing things, but to those who don’t always (or ever) agree with us. Especially those closest to us.

Right now, however, I’m going to stop writing and get back to life in this old house with King David and Prince Smudge. I’d vote for either of them any day. And maybe for you, too!

How are you coping with current realities of this weary world?
Thanks for stopping by.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 March 2024

8 Comments
December 4, 2023

This old relic

Who am I?

A relic
An old lady
Loaded with memories
A traveler
waiting her turn
to board the next flight out

Slow
Weary
Confined by this and that
Sometimes loving each moment
on the sofa
with D on one side
and soft furry Smudge
on the other

During the past few weeks we’ve had family members here for my 80th birthday and for Thanksgiving. As wonderful as it was, it was also a reminder that D and I are now in the ‘old age’ department, with most of the exciting stuff happening elsewhere.

Every now and then I wonder why I’m still here, though I love each moment with family members and various pets. What does it mean to be this old? And why do memories of my past keep coming to mind?

When I began blogging, I wanted to work through my past in writing. As a child and then teenager, my perspective was rarely accepted as part of the conversation. Nor did things get easier after I left home for my own life with D and our two children.

Today it seems we’re crash-landing into messes that belittle women, children, and men, and invite us to look the other way as this world falls apart.

What does it mean to be living in times like these? I can’t get this question out of my mind.

Thanks for visiting today.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 December 2023
Photo of our family taken Christmas 1971

13 Comments
September 16, 2023

Where and Who am I?

This morning I looked out our kitchen window just as a beautiful adult Flicker landed on one of our birdbaths. Stunning. Sure of himself. And most of all, grateful for a drink of water.

I sometimes wonder these days why I’m still alive. Not because I wish I were dead, but because it seems there’s nothing left for me in this life. Which, of course, I know is a Great Big Lie.

Weather. Politics. War. Famine. Floods. Typhoons. Hurricanes. Fires. Merciless Killings. Fear.

All of it, or even some of it by itself is More Than Enough. The value of one soul seems to have plunged to the bottom of the heap. And I wonder every day, Why am I still here?

No, I’m not sitting here doing nothing. There are people and programs needing all the help they can get. Still, fatigue comes on quickly. Especially with the hot summer we’ve had. But more than that is going on in me.

Today, if all goes well, I’ll enjoy a walk with D in our neighborhood. If all goes extremely well, I’ll see some birds I recognize, or have a short conversation with a neighbor also out for a walk.

Isn’t this enough? I don’t know. I wonder sometimes how, where and when we’re supposed to learn to be old people. Especially old people at home. By the time we take care of our aging bodies, or finish the bare necessities (laundry, cooking, a teeny tiny bit of cleaning), what have we accomplished?

One thing is clear: I love blogging. I don’t love all the changes WordPress has made. Still, while I have my little corner, I’m happy to be part of the human race with all its agony and ecstasy. Especially now.

Thanks for stopping by and reading. I wonder, what gets you through a tough day or a hard night?

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 September 2023
Photo taken by DAFraser, February 2015; Flicker in our holly tree enjoying free lunch

15 Comments
August 1, 2023

Reminders that I’m not alone

Tears well up,
spill over without
warning

Sadness looms,
indelibly engraved
on my heart

Reading old journals,
playing the piano,
watching fiery sunsets

Or watching children filled
with laughter on a day
unlike any other day

Content and discontent
all in the same moment

Life is short.

What will I do with this day?
Does it even matter?

Look! There’s a brilliant goldfinch on the bird feeder!

Yes, I know my desk is covered with clutter—
things I don’t want to close, put away just yet
or forget.

Sometimes I think my life has become a pile of
notes, cards, letters, and lists of supplements
I take to keep this old body chugging along.

Still, today there’s a goldfinch on the feeder,
and cool, dry air we haven’t enjoyed recently,
plus cicadas singing their screechy summer songs,
and Smudge roosting on the refrigerator door.

Not everything I would like
but enough for this day–
reminders that I’m not alone

Thanks for stopping by.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 August 2023
Fancied-up photo of Smudge plus magnifying ‘eyeglasses’ provided by our daughter and her husband.

20 Comments
July 8, 2023

Finding my bearings

Diane, Elouise, Ruth and Judy

Dear Friends,

Thank you for your visits, prayers, and kind comments this past week. My sister Ruth’s death came very quickly at the end. So quickly that I didn’t have a chance to talk with her on the phone before she died.

One of my biggest sorrows is that our Renich families and relatives have been spread out all over the world, making it difficult to bond with each other in person. Sometimes Ruth and I talked on the phone and via email. During the last several years most of our correspondence was about health issues. Our bodily infirmities just kept piling on, one after another.

That Ruth would die before I did was never on the agenda. The same was true for Diane who died of ALS in February 2006. Now there are two of us–my youngest sister and I. I’m grateful for the time and privilege of getting to know her. She’s 9 1/2 years younger than I.

Thank you for stopping by and leaving notes. Thank you for your kindness and your prayers. Especially now, as we creep along one day at a time, watching and wondering how much longer we have on this planet.

Everything hasn’t been awful. As I reported several posts ago, I’ve been diagnosed with hypokalemia–a rarity among patients not in hospitals, old folks’ homes, or hospice care. My food intake (good food, no junk!) has improved dramatically, now that I have more options. And I’m able to get out and do some serious walking in spite of peripheral neuropathy in my feet. I’m also sleeping better, though tears and sadness still overwhelm me from time to time.

Praying you’re finding ways to honor your family, your friends, and yourself during these troubling times.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 8 July 2023
Photo taken by JERenich, probably at Ben Lippen Conference facilities in 1953

14 Comments
June 26, 2023

Grief and Broken Hearts

Grandpa Gury with our Mom and her four daughters, 1959

grief insinuates
prickly memories into air
struggling to breathe

waves of despair
wash over old gains
searching for home

abrupt endings
leave little space or time
for grieving hearts

Last night Sister #2 died of congestive heart failure. Ruth was born in July 1945. The photo at the top is one of my favorites–all four sisters, Mother, and our maternal Grandpa.

Due to health issues, we won’t be flying or driving to Texas for Ruth’s memorial service. Here’s one more photo from the beginning of our life together. Sometimes I wish I could go back and start over, this time without fear of my father or other men and women in my life, and without things like ALS or congestive heart failure hanging in the air.

Easter Sunday with Ruth, Diane, Elouise,
plus Judy in the doll carriage, 1952

Thank you for stopping by today. The world is different now than it was 80 years ago. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it to keep going. But then…without warning…I meet wonderful people who remind me that we’re not alone. Especially in times like these.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 June 2023
Photos taken by my father, JERenich

32 Comments
June 5, 2023

Giving up without letting go

My mind is weary.
My body aches.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
Things that seemed set in concrete
keep shifting.
People I love are gone
or going.

Even so,
The sun is gorgeous today.
The sky is brilliant blue
dancing with fluffy white clouds.
Birds sing their hearts out.
Children scream with glee
in the school yard.

It all happens so quickly —
this strange thing we call living
while dying.

During the last several weeks I’ve been seeing doctors about my health, including my diet. It turns out I’m part of the 2% population in the USA who have hypokalemia. The percentage does not count patients in hospitals, nursing homes, or other medical facilities where hypokalemia is common.

I have one more doctor to see in the next two weeks. By then I’m hoping to have a better grasp of what this means for my diet, my heart, and my kidneys. I’ve already begun to gain weight, so that I’m now back in the ‘normal’ category. I’m also delighted to be munching on nuts, seeds, and other welcome bits that are part of my new diet.

One more thing has weighed heavy on me these weeks. My remaining two sisters have serious health issues. They live at great distances from each other and from me. Sister #3, Diane, died of ALS after living with it for ten years. In some ways, she was my closest sister. I’ve decided to go back through journals I kept when we were able to be with each other.

Diane made a huge impact on my life. Especially when it came to dealing with approaching death. She was never one to be morose. She was, however, painfully honest from the beginning to the end. Now it’s my turn to deal with whatever is coming my way.

This morning I walked in our neighborhood. The birds were singing their hearts out.  The children on the school playground were screaming with joy. As for me, I was stunned at the bright blue beauty of the sky, and the number of songbirds I saw and heard. Call it food I didn’t have to prepare or measure out in pre-set proportions!

These are trying times for the entire globe. I pray you’re finding ways to do what you must, while also enjoying the surprises of each day and night.

Thanks for visiting and listening.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 5 June 2023
Photo taken by JERenich, Easter 1953; with thanks to Mother for making our Easter dresses.

16 Comments
May 10, 2023

What I’ve Decided

Photo taken by DAFraser at Longwood Gardens, May 2019

This week I had a routine checkup with my cardiologist. Yesterday I read (as usual) his posted notes about the visit. Hence this ‘poem.’

If I am to survive each day and night
If I am to remain reasonably alive
Or unreasonably not so alive
It is best not to ruminate

Visiting my doctors isn’t exactly Fun
Nor is it the Pits
What gets to me aren’t lively conversations
we have about how I’m doing today

Rather, the rumination begins after our
appointment when I review online the
accumulated data of my history with,
let’s say, my cardiologist, a gifted gentleman

If it weren’t for the amazing capabilities
of Computer Land in today’s Medical World,
I would not be reminded regularly
of all things that could or should happen
if I make the mistake of not taking this or that
suggestion to heart, so to speak, and swallowing it

Okay. So it’s not a ‘real’ poem. I just had to get some of my feelings out there—given how many doctors I now see each year, and how many post-visit notes I read from them. Exhausting? Sometimes. Though overall I’m most grateful for their expertise and encouragement.

So that’s it for today! I’m also grateful D is doing well after his health emergency last week. I’ll see my wonderful kidney doctor next week….

Thanks for stopping by!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 May 2023
Photo taken by DAFraser at Longwood Gardens, May 2019

7 Comments
May 4, 2023

A Pretty Song | Mary Oliver

Photo taken by DAF on our 56th wedding anniversary, 2021

Here’s yet another wise poem from Mary Oliver. This one hits close to home. My comments follow.

A Pretty Song

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?
This isn’t a playground, this is
earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.

© 2006 by Mary Oliver
Published by Beacon Press in Thirst, p. 22

To love a partner until death do us part is costly. Partly because there’s no getting away from what happens along the way from here to there. No easy exits. Just one unexpected complication after another with which partners must deal. Even when they decide to go their so-called ‘separate’ ways.

And yet, given the sudden twists and turns of life, what rises to the top is indisputable. Especially as the end of life creeps closer every day.

This morning D is having some not-so-wonderful tests to find out what’s going on in his heart. Not the heart that loves me, but the heart that will one day stop beating no matter how much he loves me or I love him.

Mary Oliver’s poem above is about the loss of her life partner, what it’s like to go on living without her, and what it takes get through the ups and downs of grief. Not a pretty picture, but an invitation to another way of loving.

Praying your day is filled with opportunities to let your partner and/or best friends know how much you love them. Now, instead of later.

Thank you for stopping by. On the whole, I think I’m becoming less distressed by the ups and downs of life. Then again….
Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 May 2023
Photo taken by DAFraser at Longwood Gardens, 2021

8 Comments
April 29, 2023

Blessed saint francis | Dorothee Soelle

What is happening to us and to this planet earth? Why are we enamored with the latest gossip or ‘news’ about things, people, governments and countries falling apart?

Questions like these flood my mind from time to time…including questions about my own place and role in this slow/lightning fast descent into…what? I don’t know what to call it.

Here’s one of Dorothee Soelle’s poems from our not-distant past, the 1970s (Vietnam War era). It rings eerily true, given today’s madness that seems to have a life of its own.

Blessed saint francis
pray for us
now and in the time of despondency
your brother the water is poisoned
children no longer know your brother the fire
the birds shun us

They belittle you
popes and czars
and the americans buy up assisi
including you
blessed saint francis
why did you come among us

In the stony outskirts of the city
I saw you scurrying about
a dog pawing through garbage
even children
choose a plastic car
over you

Blessed saint francis
What have you changed
Whom have you helped

Blessed saint francis
pray for us
now and when the rivers run dry
now and when our breath fails us

Soelle’s poem published in Revolutionary Patience, pp 40-41
Revolutionary Patience © 1969 and 1974 by Wolfgang Fierkau Verlag, Berlin
English translation © 1977 by Orbis Books

Yes, the only thing I can do is be who I am right now. Hopefully doing what I can to help address horrific conditions in our cities, suburbs, towns, and government. Still, I wonder what it means to be ‘ready’ for whatever is coming next.

I’m praying we’ll find ways to address today’s loneliness, hardship, and lack of security. Not as a grand ‘solution’ to everything, but as immediate ways to connect with neighbors and strangers alike. We need each other as much as we need food, clothing, and a safe place to sleep.

Blessings to each of you today and tomorrow.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 29 April 2023
Photo found at istockphoto.com

5 Comments