Constance Ore is a retired Teacher, Choir Director, and Organist. And a formidable cook.

August 24, 2010

Filed under: — Constance at 4:04 pm on Tuesday, August 24, 2010

This is hard to do. My stomach is sick most of the time, even without eating, and my energy is such that the oxygen needs to be on all the time. I sleep a lot. There is the night voice that comes and says, “Too bad you’re in hospice; before, you could get some red blood and feel better for a while”. Then I am awake and the rational thought returns; there is no other route selected for me.

Think of all the people one sees going out and about in a wheelchair, oxygen bottle near, the nose piece in place. What other lives lie behind them? Last week, John-paul got the wheel chair, the oxygen, the dog’s leash, the Mama and the dog all put into the car, and we drove over to the walking trail that is near town. Alphie thought he had gone to heaven, and behaved accordingly for the first moments that we were in this new space, but then settled into the walk. I had on a sun hat and sun glasses, so I was pretty certain that I would not be recognized. I do and I don’t wish to be seen – One has to be brave about going anywhere because you are no longer who you were before. We met a young woman whizzing along on her bike, and as she passed, she flung “Hi, Connie” over her shoulder – perhaps the good looking man pushing me and the great chocolate retriever loping along gave hints of identity.

The illustrator is traveling this week, so we must do with words only

10 Comments »

Comment by dick gale

August 24, 2010 @ 4:29 pm

Hi Dear Friend — I thought you might find a little comfort in the following poem. (The author is a Salem, OR based Christian Science Lecturer.) The title is slightly strange, but the poem seems very clear.

Our SoCal summer is still here, but the nights are cool. And those late nights and early mornings always include strong prayerful thoughts sent your way.

dick gale

Self-Forgiveness

No moments of failure,
when something was lost.

No foolish decisions,
when treasures were tossed.

I didn’t mess up,
and forget God is here.

I didn’t make choices,
that made good disappear.

I live in the care
and the love of God’s grace.

There’s no way I can move
to a lesser loved place.

My keeping is not
in the wisdom of man.

But always secure,
in God’s spiritual plan.

I forgive all my yesterday’s
visions, unclear.

And hear my God telling me,
“Child, you are dear.”

Ginny Luedeman, Reprinted from the July 18, 2005 issue of the Christian Science Sentinel.

Comment by Irene Beethe

August 24, 2010 @ 7:02 pm

Dear Connie, Thank you for writing this week, even though it is hard to do. Being connected with you in this way is a special gift and helps us in our petitions on your behalf. The life behind all the “stuff” that must accompany you on your walks now is one that you never imagined for yourself. However, the love that is showered upon you by family, friends, and most of all our Heavenly Father is abundant and overflowing – something that some people never will experience! Your life and YOU are valuable to each of us! God grant you the strength and peace that you need for each day!
With much love, Irene

Comment by Millie

August 24, 2010 @ 7:39 pm

Oh Aunt Connie,
If I was there with you right now I’d give you a great big hug. Your faith in God is absolutely amazing. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Love, Millie

Comment by Dianne Ihde

August 24, 2010 @ 10:18 pm

Connie,
You are such an amazing and faithfilled person. I marvel at your writings thru these difficult times. Oh to know that God will never leave or forsake us.
I pray for you each and every night. May God continue to bless you and keep you in his care.
Love, Dianne

Comment by Paula Huebschman

August 25, 2010 @ 8:02 am

Dear lady,

Tim’s school choir sang the following hymn as part of
a hymn fest they presented last year. They sang a descant on the last verse. Their sweet voices lifted in praise was truly a taste of heaven. May the words of this text bless your spirit as you look forward to the day when you will celebrate at The Feast with our Lord who loves you so very much.
With love and a gentle hug,
Paula

Death, you cannot end my gladness
I am baptized into Christ!
When I die I leave all sadness to inherit paradise!
Though I lie in dust and ashes
Faith’s assurance brightly flashes:
Baptism has the strength divine
To make life immortal mine.

There is nothing worth comparing
to this lifelong comfort sure!
Open-eyed my grave is staring;
Even there I’ll sleep secure.
Though my flesh awaits its raising,
Still my soul continues praising:
I am baptized into Christ;
I’m a child of paradise!

Comment by Jerry Pfabe

August 26, 2010 @ 1:10 pm

Connie

Despite of all the suffering and harmful results that your sickness has brought to you, you continue to express a remarkable spirit and zest for life and good sense of humor, qualities that we have associated with you through the years.

I hope that your pain will diminish and that you’ll have peaceful and happy times with your family and friends.

May God grant you serenity and peace in these days.

Love

Jerry

Comment by Amy Ferguson

August 26, 2010 @ 7:44 pm

LOVE from Maryville Aunt Connie!

:) :) :) :) :) :)

Comment by Ben Baldus

August 27, 2010 @ 1:01 pm

Connie,

Our identities in God transcend our personal circumstances. I was struck by your comment about the young woman blowing by on her bike with a fleeting greeting. Recognition is cognition over and over again.

I resonate with your not wanting to be recognized. I was recently hospitalized due to a dumb accident and about the last thing I wanted was anyone other than maybe my pastor to see me.

You and Charles, together with your whole family, are in the prayers of the people at Trinity Episcopal Church, Marshall, MI. The Organist-Choirmaster has been known to play Charles pieces from time to time.

I’m always moved by the Bidding Prayer from the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at King’s College, Cambridge, by the late Eric Milner-White. I’m particularly taken where he references entering “the gates of larger life” which is something, in spite of much good that has come my way, for which I yearn.

You’re in my prayers, this day and always.

Ben Baldus

Comment by Stacy Howell

September 5, 2010 @ 1:04 pm

Connie,

I was inquiring of your husband on the website when I found myself drawn to your page. As a nurse, I have truly enjoyed reading about your journey and seeing how wonderful your family is. May God grant you the strength and peace that only he can give.

May God bless you,

Stacy Howell

Comment by flora wiegmann

September 7, 2010 @ 12:49 am

Dear Connie,
It’s been literally years since I’ve last seen you in Seward, but I think the last time we got to take a walk together with the dog. (or was it dogs? Melina may have had hers with her as well). I was just in Portland with my parents, and you were in our thoughts. I have been thinking about all of the dinner parties I was present for at your house as a child attendee and how this probably is a big reason that I have such a love for entertaining. Cooking has always been something that I enjoyed and I was in such awe of your bread and pasta (oh those wonderful carbs) and as an adult, have been quite excited for challenges in the kitchen. I also have fond memories of choir classes/rehearsals and blame the Friday donut days for my addiction to them. Thanks, thanks for it all.
I wish for you comfort and joy, even with all that you’re going through now, and know that you are in my thoughts.
very best,
Flora

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