Rough Waters

You may have missed this on NBC's nightly news. I am focused like a chicken on a June bug about this now and yesterday after I shared what I've learned about the Aid and Attendance pension, I heard from so many of you that are facing the same things we are with aging parents. This benefit is virtually unknown and has been around for a long time. My father-in-law served his country for 25 years, starting in the Army in WWII and retiring from the Air Force in the 1960's. After retiring he started another career and worked until his late 60's. Even then he had the desire to volunteer and after moving to Fayetteville, Arkansas his love for his country led him back to the military, to the local VA Hospital where he volunteered 17 more years. At 90, he now resides in the Fayetteville  VA nursing home.

It seems like my life these days revolve around parents, the same way I felt when the kids were little and needed us. Sometimes I am very tired when I lay my head down at night. But I have to tell you, I'm learning some valuable information that might just help others who are going though this with parents. 25 years ago when Daddy was in failing health, my Mom struggled to care for him on her own. She found the strength somehow and they had the savings to meet his rising medical bills. That was then, when costs were merely high, not astronomical. Mom's dementia/Alzheimer care has depleted their savings and she is now a Medicaid patient. 6 years of nursing care, all the planning done years ago with a trust and 2 Elder care lawyers guided us through very rough waters.

Confederate Cemetery Fayetteville, Arkansas

One of the few posts my husband ever wrote on the blog, definitely one of my favorites! Memorial Day weekend is time off for most of us, we gather as families and many of us visit the cemeteries of our loved ones to decorate the graves. This cemetery is located just blocks from the historic Fayetteville downtown square and the day we visited we were the only ones there. It contains the remains of men who died in the service of the Confederacy in North Arkansas. Some of the soldiers buried here died from illness in disease ridden camps or from battle in one of the most violent and desperately contested fronts of the Civil War. Their graves once dotted the hills of Northwest Arkansas until 1878 when the Southern Memorial Association of Washington County established the beautiful cemetery. The bodies of fallen soldiers were exhumed and brought here for final burial.

These pictures and the poignant words of my husband tell why we can never forget these old cemeteries...

The trees seem to watch over these soldiers,  almost as if they stand at attention to salute those who rest beneath.  These ancient trees speak to me, I wonder if they speak to each other?

Do they encourage each other to be strong?  In the face of decades of tornadoes, ice storms, wind storms, droughts, floods, and everything else that nature has offered them, they don't give up.  I saw a very large depression in the ground with the remnants of a rotten stump.  Do the trees whisper to each other that one of them has fallen?  Does this increase their resolve to remain strong until the younger trees can grow to a size to shade the soldiers?

They remind me of a photo I saw of a 92 year old World War II veteran who had the opportunity to visit the new WWII memorial in Washington, DC.  He flew out on a Honor Flight from our airport wearing his old uniform.  My company helps sponsor these flights so that the few surviving WWII vets who are able to travel have the opportunity to see it.  In the picture he made a valiant effort to stand straight and salute.

The trees here are very much like this gentleman, proud to salute those resting there but too old to stand straight anymore.
  

I wonder if they will still be there next Memorial Day?  Will any finally fall when the next storm comes or will they make it another year, just waiting for the small ones to relieve them of guard duty?

The graves in the old Confederate Cemetery honor someone's father, husband, friend. Somewhere there are family members who've never seen this cemetery. They can't imagine the beauty and the peace that surrounds their loved one. I just wish they knew that he is honored by all who call themselves Americans.

The Lost Wallet

I know you can't believe everything that you read on the Internet, but when I read this on Facebook the other day, I wanted it to be real. You will too...

A LETTER IN THE LOST WALLET

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the
wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.

It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?"

She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with you."

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!"

"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.

"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. "

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television."

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.

I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael."

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."

"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?"

I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet."

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times."

"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.

"He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks."

I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!"

"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?"

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward."

"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet."

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"

"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."

He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged.

"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. "

"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?"

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?"

She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be."

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. If you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple!

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years!

Ki Yi Yippie Yippie Ay

I'm pretending I'm in Texas this morning... it's a typical Saturday and we've slept in a little. Coffee and paper, we had a bowl of cereal and now we're beginning to get hungry for some lunch. Lot of choices but only one if you want BBQ! Just a few miles up I-10 and Highway 80 north (exit 628) is Luling City Market! About an hour east of San Antonio, it's the best barbecue you will ever put in your mouth! We were lucky enough to share many meals here with good friends BW and Carol. I don't know if it was the company or the food, but this place remains in my memory as one of my favorites! Rough-around-the-edges, City Market offers few amenities. You have to fetch your meat the old-fashioned way, waiting in line. When you enter, the delicious smell hits you like a ton of bricks!

At the back of the dining room a swinging door leads into a shadowy, cave-like room illuminated by the glow of burning logs in pits. I can remember the first time we visited City Market, the anticipation I felt as we waited in line. Towards the back of the line we were visiting, laughing and taking in all of the "local flavor" of the place. But as we got close to the enclosed area, the pit, our moods changed. There was a reverence that came over us, just like the scene in Seinfeld when George realized he needed to order the soup in a very particular way.

The meats are cooked long and slow in a brick smoker that holds enough food to feed Luling plus the hundreds of visitors that come each day from far and wide. As you enter the pit, men take your order, cut and section the amount of meat you want, and assemble everything on a big sheet of pink butcher paper. They gather the edges of the paper together so it becomes a boat-like container that serves as both carrying device and eating surface. Once you get your paper-wrapped order of meat, you leave the pit and carry it back into the comfy pine-paneled dining room.Find a place to sit and join the citizens of Luling who are kept alive by the sauce and BBQ! John Wayne, Tommy Lee Jones and Dubya thought it was worth the trip!


Tender smoky brisket, succulent ribs that fall away from the bone or links that have been made the same way for 50 years...you can't go wrong if you choose a little of each. My favorite was the links, cut and placed on a slice of bread and doused with the orange BBQ sauce that Luling is famous for. No other sauce, anywhere tastes like this. First time users aren't sure, then BAM...you're hooked. You need the stuff for everything!

Sides are basic, white bread, pickles and onion...

Don't forget the sweet tea, or maybe Texas' favorite Big Red!

Besides having no plate for your meal, City Market deems all you need to enjoy this feast is a plastic knife, fork and spoon. They're right, the meat is so tender it cuts like butter!

Take a minute and soak up the relaxation this YouTube video will impart.

Just like being there, well almost!

A RE-RUN, too good not to share again!

Nothing but Blue Skies...

Our grandson had the opportunity to realize a dream yesterday. From the time he was a little boy, he's talked about being a pilot. Not a huge surprise since he spent so much time on airplanes from the time he was very young flying to far away places like Shanghai and Belgium to visit his Dad. 

It's been awhile since he has allowed himself to dream big. Since his Dad passed away, his life has been in limbo. Not planned, not unplanned... just in a holding pattern. Up in that Cessna yesterday, he began to think he could do this, make this his career- fly for a living. After all his Uncle David has done just that for years with Southwest Airlines.

All along we have it inside us the ability to achieve greatness. It lays dormant for years until someone or something lights a fire in our hearts. Never far away, our Guardian Angels are there to cheer us on. It's not going to be easy, nothing worthwhile ever is. But one flight and then another, he'll reach that dream. Holding patterns in the air mean circles, not a good thing. We're seeing Blue Skies ahead!

Table for Two

When you first marry, you don't think much about the future. My mother in law said when she and Dad T first married, she had to wait until he got paid about two weeks later for her to join him at the air base in Salina, Kansas. They were married 66 years ago at the courthouse in Madison County Arkansas and for the most part they didn't have a plan. They just knew it was going to work!

You look into each other's eyes and not once are you worried about how you are going to pay your bills or where you will live. You just take a day at a time, then a month at a time and before you know it... 60 plus years have slipped by. The last few years have been the hardest, Dad's stroke changed everything. For the first time they needed help doing things. Fiercely independent, they are the lucky minority of seniors who manage well until they are almost 90.

It's not easy, but like everything else in their marriage, they have figured it out. Dad lives at the VA Nursing Home and Mom lives at Brookstone Assisted Living. Three times a week she goes to visit and his eyes sparkle when he sees her.

It's too early for Cupid to have had a hand in this romantic dinner that was planned as a surprise by nurses on the 5th floor, but only those with big ♥'s can plan something this sweet! Complete with flowers and a miniature wedding cake, a table for two was set up in the library. Big smiles, a few tears, just like that first day 66 years ago when they both said "I do"... and meant it!

 

A big THANK YOU to the nurses at the Fayetteville Veterans Home for making this magic happen! 

Friends of Friends

Have you heard about the changes coming at Facebook? It probably would have escaped me for days unless I'd seen Craig Kanalley's post announcing their "latest and greatest" Graph Search. The link was the live announcement at Facebook headquarters and when I clicked over, they were showing pictures and diagrams about the changes. I think that's probably the best way that I learn these day... pictures! So what is Graph Search?  It's a new way we can search Facebook's massive amount of photos, people, and connections that affect us. We keep our privacy settings, nothing is shared outside the circle that we set. Our friends, our family, the people who are in our lives that we want to keep in contact with. Nothing like a Web Search that leads to dozens of dead ends, Graph Search will use an advanced tagging system; finding our friends, our family, the people who are important to us...

 

I've shared a lot on this blog and Facebook. When I first joined in 2008 I didn't post a thing the whole year. I'd log on and look at pictures that our daughters would post of the GRANDS. They were in Texas and I missed seeing them.

 

They were growing up fast and the little time we did see them zipped by fast.

But Facebook was there to bridge the gap, pictures came every week. Better than mail, it came in living color and showed me what they were doing.

Precious pictures that make a Nana happy

It made it easier to be so far away.

 

The next year I started sharing where we were going...

fun things we did...

and the people that were important to me.

Family gatherings..

where we live...

and what really happens on Granny Mountain!

 

You came along on trips back home...

 

remembering family that served.

 

You went to car shows with me,

and even Mule Jumps!

 

By now you know the real me...

 

and just how important my family is to me.

You know that I like chocolate fried pies...

and who comes for visits to my door!

 

I share the silly...

 

and the serious.

My sad days...

 

and the happiest ones too!

 

The timeline was only the beginning...

 

 

"Free" Security System

Some of us have these...

...but almost ALL of us have THESE!

OK, this a a good one... the posts on Facebook that make the rounds. This one comes from a neighborhood watch coordinator. 

Simply put your car keys beside your bed at night. If you hear a noise outside your home or someone trying to get in your house, just press the panic button for your car. The alarm will be set off, and the horn will continue to sound until either you turn it off or the car battery dies. 

Try it out the next time you come home for the night and you start to put your keys away. Just think about it, it's a security alarm system that you probably already have and requires no installation. It will go off from most everywhere inside your house and will keep honking until your battery runs down or until you reset it with the button on the key fob chain. It works if you park in your driveway or garage.

If your car alarm goes off when someone is trying to break into your house, odds are the burglar/rapist won't stick around. After a few seconds, all the neighbors will be looking out their windows to see who is out there and sure enough the criminal won't want that. And remember to carry your keys while walking to your car in a parking lot. The alarm can work the same way there. This is something that should really be shared with everyone. Maybe it could save a life or a sexual abuse crime.

I am sending this to everyone I know because I think it's fantastic! Would also be useful for any emergency, such as a heart attack, where you can't reach a phone. For those of us with aging parents, tell them to carry their keys with them when they are outside doing lawn work. If they have a fall, they can activate the car alarm causing attention to their house!

Elvis Presley's Pound Cake, a Hunka-Hunka Burning Love!

Yesterday was Elvis' birthday and the many who adored him can't help but remember his beautiful voice and handsome face. Just a few years back... Jamestown residents couldn't believe their eyes,

...they actually were spellbound,

speechless...

Because Elvis was in the building!

  

He serenaded the ladies...

He made their hearts go pitter~patter...

Time stood still... nurses stopped nursing, cooks stopped cooking!

They were carried back in time, back to 1950 when they used to hear Elvis on the radio. Favorite songs like Blue Suede Shoes and Jailhouse Rock.

Who would have ever dreamed he'd be here now so close, singing I Can't Help Falling in Love With You?

He kissed every hand...

He sang to each lady's heart...

He made them feel like kids again!

Memories brought back...

... just enjoying the day.

Some of us almost swooned...

Some danced again...

Love was definitely in the air!

These 3 gentlemen are in for a fun afternoon with a gaggle of gals who have hearts in their eyes!

Elvis gave his all, he wowed us!

We can thank this sweet little lady for having friends in high places...

It may have been a cold day in Arkansas... but Jamestown was on fire with a Hunka, Hunka Burning Love!

via

Rich and sweet, just like Elvis...

Elvis Presley's Pound Cake Serves 10
from Elvis World Jane and Michael Stern
16 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened, plus more for pans
3 cups cake flour, sifted, plus more for pans
3 cups sugar
2 tsp. vanilla extract
¾ tsp. kosher salt
7 eggs
1 cup heavy cream

Heat oven to 350°. Grease and flour two 9"x 5"x 2" loaf pans; set aside. Beat butter, sugar, vanilla, and salt in a bowl on medium-high speed of a hand mixer until pale and fluffy, about 6 minutes. Add eggs one at time, beating well after each, until smooth. Add flour and cream alternately, beginning and ending with flour, beating until smooth. Increase speed to high; beat batter until smooth and light, about 5 minutes. Divide batter between prepared pans, and smooth tops with a rubber spatula; bake until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out with a couple crumbs adhering to it, about 1 hour, 15 minutes. Let cool 30 minutes, and then unmold onto a cooling rack; let cool completely before slicing and serving.