tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66286804164372514822024-03-05T14:18:30.835-08:00White Apple Passion"It's a good thing".JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-74189739281285519172017-01-16T19:26:00.000-08:002017-01-16T19:27:02.027-08:00RIP...my little Anna...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Dear Sweet Anna,</div>
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This is the last photo I took of you...I knew it would be difficult to lose you. You are the only dog I have ever had...and, Oh so special. You helped me through some hard times and some sad times. Being with you always eased any anxieties I had. You made me smile when I wanted to cry. When I felt low, you looked at me like I was Queen. You were my itty bitty rock and little pal with angel wings.</div>
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I adopted you when you were broken...You got better as I did with you. You have always had your funny little quirks and so have I...but you didn't care, and I didn't either...we were such a good little “pair”. I am so sad you are gone, but so glad you are in no more pain. Blessings to you and all your little friends in animal heaven.</div>
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...Gonna miss you…Rest in peace my sweet little angel. It's a good thing.</div>
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Love, </div>
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Mommy</div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-66226793892506183792016-06-12T22:21:00.000-07:002016-06-13T07:24:52.049-07:00FIVE YEARS BREAST CANCER FREE...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * I had the great fun of “firing” my Oncologist this past week. Yep…the adorable, funny, brilliant, mother of three, doctor of Oncology, is finished…slammed…terminated…kicked out…as I AM OFFICIALLY FIVE YEARS BREAST CANCER FREE! </div>
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I celebrated by presenting Dr. Graff with five pink roses along with demanding a selfie, her and me, (wearing my lovely hospital gown)…and with the pure “joy” of giving her “the boot”! Awww…(and no more tamoxifen). That was a good day…and it’s a good thing. </div>
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Don’t Forget to get your Mammograms! (Early detection is best!)</div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-69471662062511853332016-05-15T13:09:00.002-07:002016-05-15T13:33:33.424-07:00Celebrating Mom's Freedom from Alzheimer's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * One year ago today my mother left this world we live in...I am not sad...instead, I take this day to celebrate that she has been freed from the Alzheimer's disease... a suffering prisoner, living in a horrific jail cell for nearly twenty years. It was a huge relief when freedom abound and her deep dark mangled jail cell was finally unlocked.</div>
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I take this day to celebrate my mother’s freedom, and to hopefully bring a bit of awareness to the Alzheimer’s disease by posting, once again the documentary I created a few months before Mom passed. (the sound needs to be on to watch).</div>
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I love you Mom. It's a good thing.</div>
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<br />JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-69131703981428489952016-03-01T07:31:00.000-08:002016-03-01T07:31:00.547-08:00LOSING YOUR MOTHER IS HARD TO DO.<div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
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* My Journal * </div>
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Losing your mother is hard to do. </div>
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On Sunday, February 28th, my husband, Roger Hunt, and his siblings lost their mother....Barbara Walters Hunt. We knew the time was approaching, but as I watched Roger wiping his tears and choking up with difficulty speaking, it was a heavy reminder of never wanting to say goodbye. It doesn't matter what age you are in life...losing your mother is hard to do. </div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">When times like these become events in your life, it makes many of us reflect on where we are at...on this earth, what we believe in...and how we go about our lives with another loved one lost. </span><br />
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If there was one thing Roger and I have, is we both were raised by really good solid people. Both sets of parents have been honest, unselfish, caring, loving, hard working, (a little stubborn), down to earth, “what you see is what you get” kind of folks. Both have had everlasting marriages through a lot of “thick and thin”. If you add the number of years of marriage between these two couples, it equals to almost 130 years. Need I say more. </div>
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My parents really liked Roger’s parents. They didn’t see each other very often due to location, but when they did meet, Mom and Dad were always so glad to see Barbara and Bill. It was sweet, but not surprising. </div>
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With both my parents gone, I think of them every day...sometimes my thoughts make me so sad, but other times they make me happy. After the initial news of Barbara moving on to "a better place", I pictured something happy...</div>
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I envisioned Barbara entering Heaven with my mother greeting her near the entryway with a big smile and holding a platter full of appetizers. Mom continuing her role as "hostess with the mostest" wanting to make sure Barbara was OK, along with offering her some home-made "goodies". Dad was near...yep...sitting in his easy chair, snacking on a big bowl of freshly popped popcorn...so glad to see Barbara, and greeting her with another warm smile. (I miss that smile.) Mom and Dad quickly introduced Barbara to some of their friends and family, but of course, they knew she was on a mission to see some of her own family, especially her son. That was when Dad told her that Tim (Roger's brother who we lost last year, the same week I lost Mom), was just on the other side of the next cloud, setting up a tent for the next camping adventure . </div>
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Mother and son reunited. I can just picture this reunion.<br />
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Roger and I have been very blessed to have our parents. My prayers go out to the sole survivor, my father-in-law, Bill Hunt, of these four dear people. Bill has endured much, especially in these recent years. He has had some serious health issues including cancer. While battling these obstacles, Barbara's health and mind was failing, setting up many exhausting days ahead for Bill, as caretaker.<br />
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I hope Bill can find comfort with the support of all the family and his friends during these hard days. I also pray his feelings of grief can be eased by knowing Barbara has already found her fishing spot with Tim joining her. The day will only be complete with a mouth watering fish fry...hushpuppies included. I dare say..."That's a good thing".<br />
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...And to my dear father-in-law, Bill...We all love you... and may God bless you.</div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-53107095511187609022015-06-04T13:29:00.001-07:002015-06-04T17:51:19.842-07:00Officially...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Journal * This has been a good week for me....Mom is FINALLY resting in peace, and I am<br />
"Officially" A Four-Year-Breast-Cancer-Survivor! (Just a reminder---Everyone please get your<br />
screenings scheduled!) It's a good thing.JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-58643792035994927572015-05-31T10:30:00.000-07:002015-05-31T10:30:36.054-07:00Mom's Beautiful Day...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * Yesterday was one of the most beautiful days I have had in many years. A morning celebration of Mom's life brought back so many priceless memories. It was a day to honor my mother...the beautiful person she was. This amazing day...filled with flowers, food, candles, her favorite colors, friends, neighbors, family, and sharing....Everything Mom loved that she SO deserved. My many tears of sadness through the years, turned into tears of joy on this day in "Celebrating Mom Home". This is truly a blessing and it's a wonderful "Good Thing". JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-7104018010722325242015-05-26T07:50:00.001-07:002015-05-26T07:50:52.763-07:00Celebrating Mom Home...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Journal * Mom's "going home" service. It's a good thing.</div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-46526769376708234322015-05-15T12:50:00.000-07:002015-05-15T14:39:00.248-07:00Today...May 15th...2015...just before noon...Mom traveled home.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * Today was the day. Just before noon, Mom took her last breath. When I thought my tears were dry, I find them streaming like a flood down my face. Before my father passed away, he took this picture of the sky. Something told me this was special. I have always cherished Dad's photograph of these clouds. Finally, my dear, dear parents can be together in this beautiful place. I love you SO much Mom and Dad. Thank you for the millions of the little things, and the millions of the big things you did for me, and for so many others. </div>
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Both of you can now be in peace...together.</div>
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Blessings to all for your thoughts, prayers, guidance, and needed support through this long journey. </div>
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It's a good thing.</div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-83041037679390691412015-05-14T21:33:00.000-07:002015-05-14T21:33:49.190-07:00Mom and Me...May 10th, 2015...Our final Mother's Day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">* My Journal * My mom has been in the final active stage of the dying process since </span><span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">last Sunday</span><span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"> on Mother's Day. </span><span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">What I was told could be hours, maybe a couple of days....is now turning into longer. Approaching six days...feels like six years...I have spent many hours by her side . It only figures my mom is fighting to the very bitter end. Yep...she still has a stubborn streak. On Sunday, I had in my mind and from my discussions with hospice, mom would be done with her suffering in the first part of the week. Well...now I have learned you can't put a timeline on this "eleventh hour". I guess she will go when she is good and ready, and I have been blessed to hold hands with my dear mom one last time. </span><br />
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-59669552635758694412015-05-12T22:57:00.003-07:002015-05-12T22:57:42.933-07:00xxxJB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-77995310944700272482015-05-12T22:51:00.000-07:002015-05-12T22:51:16.868-07:00TIM...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibI8sbZXfK8aq_rON1Mjv3uZfHYYA_vhxOWbH1KYZ22_FDC-XE8eLV9oE0B_ISUL45cD7qzpMon2ERmAJDn4N6EUafVjErNal1-bzUd8Sah28wMwZP2yjpJxTt1sjR-TdhHlLN05IaIBk/s1600/Tim&HotDiggity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibI8sbZXfK8aq_rON1Mjv3uZfHYYA_vhxOWbH1KYZ22_FDC-XE8eLV9oE0B_ISUL45cD7qzpMon2ERmAJDn4N6EUafVjErNal1-bzUd8Sah28wMwZP2yjpJxTt1sjR-TdhHlLN05IaIBk/s640/Tim&HotDiggity.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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* My Journal * I love this picture of Roger’s brother, Tim. It’s hard to comprehend he is not with us now. When I look at his smile, I feel so much joy, but hurt with so much sadness. God Bless you “Little Tim”. Your smile says it all. Please continue onward “up there” with your great sense of humor, your warm heart, and the sparkle in your eyes. I still hope you like your “pig” as it continues to give you a chuckle of “hot-diggity-piggity”. It’s a good thing. Now rest in peace.</div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-53281493657852302002015-04-15T12:29:00.000-07:002015-04-15T12:29:33.421-07:00Mom...once again...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4PLDsK_qAaqtRPPMz0zRkRjfWAJOimx9sEoOpAVT08zUYKgj3pJD7K2saQezYMJQxiKtJLWXijBCVMjaewYW__5GTweomyOM5QsOZFLfgBCk8-cdrVsVg4NJ9nqdcJEQJhwROAZBdoI/s1600/Mom.April.2015.100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4PLDsK_qAaqtRPPMz0zRkRjfWAJOimx9sEoOpAVT08zUYKgj3pJD7K2saQezYMJQxiKtJLWXijBCVMjaewYW__5GTweomyOM5QsOZFLfgBCk8-cdrVsVg4NJ9nqdcJEQJhwROAZBdoI/s1600/Mom.April.2015.100.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Alzheimer's disease is truly the longest of "Goodbyes". (The latest photo of Mom.) She just doesn't seem to ever give up. Still sweet...still kisses...I guess...that's the "good thing".JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-23259413051628135172015-02-27T22:50:00.000-08:002015-02-27T22:53:28.306-08:00Alzheimer's...Mom...and me...<div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">
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* My Journal * We (Mom) are now in the latter stages of Alzheimers. We have been through...it seems like a million different stages and phases of the disease. Even though Mom is in such a detrimental state, a part of it is easier than earlier spells of this unfortunate path. No more anger or arguing….no more paranoia...no worries about leaving the house and getting lost...and... no more confusing and disastrous frustration. It doesn’t mean I like this chapter any better. I don’t. She is bed ridden. She hasn’t been able to do anything as simple as drinking from a glass of juice, on her own, for years. She’s a pathetic mess. Sometimes the most haunting parts of visiting an Alzheimer’s unit of a nursing home is not what you see, but it’s the sounds and noises that come from all over the unit among it’s patients. It can be quite disturbing. I have a small bit of a movie visiting Mom. Even though she would not approve, I find it important to reveal and expose a little part of her world. Some day I hope it makes a difference... and it might turn in to being a good thing. I love you Mom.<br />
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-81868798414963887732015-01-21T20:17:00.000-08:002015-01-22T09:24:35.521-08:00A PIG FOR TIM.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> My Journal * My husband Roger is the oldest of five children. I have heard numerous times of a story from his childhood regarding little brother, Tim. When Roger was a teenager, he took Tim "trick or treating" on Halloween. (I’m assuming Mom was home taking care of “baby Jim”, the youngest of the five.) At the time, Tim was maybe about five years old. Roger was to take care of Tim, as well as make sure he was cued in on saying his "trick or treats" and thank yous. One house just so happened to have a cute pet pug at the door greeting all the little ghosts and goblins. As little Tim got his treat, and said his thank you he started to turn away but hesitated after a few steps. He then turned back towards the door and said to the homeowner, "By the way… I like your pig!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> It tickled Roger so.... Obviously, he never forgot that moment with little Tim. And I always enjoy hearing the story. (Mind you…I’m not always fond of hearing Roger’s “other” stories...uh…over and over….but this one I LOVE! Ha!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Today little Tim is a wonderful father of four children and has been married to Maria for 30 years. They are and have been fabulous parents to their grown and nearly grown children, and it shows through each child…Geoff, Stephen, Christa, and Aaron. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> On Saturday, January 10th, Tim was rushed to the hospital…it looked likely that he had a stroke or heart attack...unsure. With cat scans and X rays, the doctors discovered lesions on the brain (causing seizures) and in the lungs. The hospital performed a biopsy on Sunday. Later that week... biopsy results... malignant melanoma, (stage 4 since it has spread to other parts of the body).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> If anyone has the strength to get through this…it would be Tim and Maria. They are challenged, but handling the start of this journey with much grace and optimism. Tim and Maria, I declare as “Rock Stars”. They are strong. During this time, my father-in-law is also going through his own cancer battles. Big stuff on the shoulders of the Hunt family to start off in the 2015 new year. Daily prayers keep on going…and going…and we don’t mind asking for more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I don’t know, but all I can say is I’m getting pretty sick and tired of "Stupid" cancer abrupting people’s lives. Cancer is the one enemy I truly believe in taking physical and wildly, violent force, and completely kicking it in the butt. I would like to take a hammer and beat it til' we can see it NO MORE….THERE….DONE.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> As I have not been able to stop thinking about Tim, I couldn’t help but think of the little story of Tim and the “Pig” at Halloween. :) Naturally, I had to create this "pig-like" dog, or "dog-like" pig just for him. So here’s to my “Rock Star” brother-in-law who is keeping everyone else strong through his great attitude, optimism, and wonderful sense of humor in his new challenge he faces today. May “Little Tim’s Hot Diggity-Piggity” bring a smile, a chuckle, and a twinkle of hope. Allow it to be a symbol of faith, fun, and everything you are. Let it surround you with a bright spirit all around you and your family….. Maria, the kids, and your dear Mom and Dad….not to leave out the rest of the “clan”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> SO... to Dear Tim-- I HOPE you "like your pig"? ....as it sends good thoughts, prayers, love, and a little bit of “Hot Diggity” in your path today. It's a good thing...Love, Jan.</span></div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-49970343265295986112014-12-09T15:30:00.001-08:002014-12-09T15:30:56.003-08:00Traveling the Road Home.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * Mom recently exceeded the seven year mark of living in the Alzheimer's unit in the nursing home. She would SO not approve of posting pictures like these. I can almost hear her disapproving voice of her sly daughter’s public actions. (But...I think to myself, "she'll never know".) If I were her, I would be most perturbed at me as well. Heh. So it goes.</div>
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Mom has been ill...it's seems like "forever". Sometimes I feel like I can barely remember her as the mom I once knew...but, I will never forget the mom she has been to me....and the thoughtful giving person she has been to many. Now and then I see tiny snippets of who she was, even to this day. </div>
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I continue to think about Mom's biggest fear of living long with her mind completely gone. She told me many times of this fear. It has somewhat haunted me...but then again, she will never know of this truth either. Earlier in the year, my friend Beth told me I should talk to the director and social worker in the Alzheimer's unit about this dreadful fear that has become true. I did. Thank you Beth. Obviously we have been at a stage for quite some time of painfully wanting to see her "let go". From our emotional discussion, we made some changes towards Mom’s care to help her "speed" up her travel on the road to "going home". Since then she has lost at least 10 pounds. Her hands are like holding skeleton bones and nothing more. She still seems to respond to touch. I will miss that some day.<br />
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This latest chapter of mom is harder than I thought. I have seen her in such a pathetic state for SO long. I didn't think this part would affect me so much. It has. I do know we are getting closer to the end of the road. Sad....but it truly is a good thing. Someday, Mom will make it home, and </div>
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Mom will have her peace. Blessings to her. Blessings to all. It’s a good thing.</div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-71956612223468699922014-09-30T22:33:00.001-07:002014-09-30T22:50:19.103-07:00CELEBRATE OCTOBER...CELEBRATE BREAST CANCER AWARENESS!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Journal * I am now three years cancer free. And here it is-- October!!!...Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Please help me to help others. I continue to advocate taking control, getting your screenings on a regular basis, and forming a habit of self-exams! These simple steps can save your life.<br />
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Please visit my Etsy Shop! I have created some gifts specific to breast cancer and good health. A portion of all my profits in my shop for the month of October will be donated for Breast Cancer Research. Let's fight the fight...and win! It's a good thing!<br />
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https://www.etsy.com/shop/JBHuntStudioJB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-72056425488547153632014-07-12T21:41:00.001-07:002014-07-12T21:43:32.013-07:00Living in the World of Alzheimer's...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * This is a glimpse of my mother's world. Mom is in the blue on the left. She is in her special wheelchair, all strapped in with her big leg braces. Most...well...OK...all of the time... when I come into this confined, locked up and closed off world, it feels simply pathetic. It breaks my heart. Mom has outlived most in this unit. I have seen many many Alzheimer's and dementia patients come and go. Some of them have "lasted" in here for quite a while. Some people...some...deteriorate quickly and don't "last" long at all. Honestly, I would say they are the lucky ones. Noises, curdling screams, and odd to piercing "sound effects" made by the residents can be as disturbing as seeing the agony over a roomful of too many worn, sick, and sometimes distorted, faces. Don't get me wrong. I don't see everything as bad. There can be many laughs here. The working caretakers in this field of "Insanity" HAVE to carry on a sense of humor...(for survival's sake...in my opinion). I myself laugh with them. We all need to "exercise" a sense of humor in many aspects of life. I think everyone would agree. </div>
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When I came to see Mom this particular day, she was looking quite stern and not so good as other times. I rubbed her shoulders and neck, held her hand, kissed her head. I tried to talk to her. She only stared at me....she has been doing that lately. She has not been talking her usual "gibberish". Even though she is slowly deteriorating, she seems to notice me more than before...just like on this day. As she stared at me with her stern, but expressionless face, she appeared to be looking right into my eyes....almost like she recognized me. (She can really surprise me sometimes.) As I was looking right back into her eyes...patiently....for several "moments", she slowly formed her mouth into an O shape. I brought my cheek to her lips. She touched my cheek. I pulled away and looked at her. She shaped her mouth into an O again. I brought my cheek to her....she was kissing me... we did this over and over...sometimes she actually did a light "smack" on my face. This happens and I don't realize there are still feelings inside her skeletal frame with a soul that's seemingly dissipated. Then I wonder if she is trying to tell me something? Is she trying to finally let go. Is she trying to tell me goodbye? Is that terrible to say?...I can't help it....it just sort of feels that way when I see her eyes stare at me as of late.</div>
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Leaving the nursing home, I couldn't stop thinking about my experience with my mother.</div>
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I don't know....maybe I think about things too much. Maybe I'm just completely "off base". On the way to my house, I did some crying....and more thinking. As distressing as it seems when I walk into the pitiful world my mother lives in....I realize I am lucky and so is she. She has me and I have her. I have missed her terribly as the mom I once had. Oh...do I EVER miss her. She was a wonderful mother and wonderful friend. ... But, in a way..... I do still have her....she gave me kisses...lots of them....another moment to cherish....and that's another good thing.</div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-27637234138273363352014-05-11T18:13:00.000-07:002014-05-11T18:14:30.755-07:00The finest of the finest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Journal * As I have been going through boxes of photos in preparation for Amy's high school graduation. I came across this photo that made me stop everything I was doing. Oh my goodness!...there is my mom on the right....Marylyn Scheuerman in the middle...and Evelyn Larsen on the left...all dear dear friends. I have known Marylyn and Evelyn my whole life. They knew me as a baby. Growing up I watched these ladies, their spouses, and several other dear couples spend time together, party together, and be there for each other when needed. They were a tight group. They would take turns throwing dinner parties at their homes. I remember how fun it was for me when we had the parties at our house . Mom loved entertaining. My favorite was enjoying all the appetizers. My dad relished and had a knack for playing "bartender". They would stretch cocktail hour into several hours of fun and laughter. Dinner would be enjoyed late into the evening. Then dessert...sometimes devoured not until the midnight hour. It was joyous. </div>
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These ladies have been lifetime friends. Evelyn and Marylyn always treated me as if I was their daughter. Unfortunately we have lost Marylyn, but I'm sure she is happy to be united and in peace with her two beloved sons she lost...so painfully... in her life here on this earth. Evelyn and husband, Dale, are alive but struggling in health. Mom...well...Mom has seen better days.<br />
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This picture of the three makes my heart feel warm. It brings me sweet and joyful memories. I cherish those memories. I adore not just my mom, but also Marylyn and Evelyn ....so so deeply dear.<br />
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I love these three ladies...wonderful friends, wonderful wives, and wonderful mothers. </div>
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Happy Mother's Day to all. It's a good thing.</div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-5894066491721628392014-01-26T19:39:00.002-08:002014-01-26T19:41:16.186-08:00IS THIS ME?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * I don't believe I have "blogged" on or about my birthday but this one I will. I started my birthday today enjoying breakfast out with Roger, and the kids....a rare moment these days. It was nice. We all ate heartily...omelets, biscuits, chocolate chip pancakes....yum. I actually wasn't thinking much about being a year older....that is until we were finishing devouring our delicious breakfast and sipping on coffee. As we relaxed for a bit, I turned myself slightly and looked to my right. Suddenly I did a double take. What did I see? My brain was feeling a bit weird as it does at times. There sitting near me was an older "scraggly" but "a little bit cute" lady just staring down at the floor. She had some wild mussed up hair. She looked like she was trying to "style" but it wasn't quite working. THEN it HIT me! "OMG", I thought, "that is ME in 20 years." I turned away and looked again, thinking and hoping I would not feel that odd feeling that I was looking into my future. "OH Geez....YES....it is me." I couldn't deny. I then turned back to the table. I looked at my family and felt the need to tell them about my "into the future" vision and "sighting". When I confessed to this self truth....I was thinking...."Oh, I'm sure I'm just exaggerating things in my head, and I'm sure my family won't see what I'm seeing!" As soon as Amy looked at the old lady, she said, "Yes, Mom...that is SO going to be you." Well...I then knew I could either laugh or cry! :)<br />
I learned how I have learned before...it's so much better to laugh! And we all did. Yep, I'm still laughing...well...sort of...heh! Truth is, it's been a good birthday today... and that is a really good thing.JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-56563791002877934092014-01-18T08:53:00.001-08:002014-01-18T08:53:59.862-08:00Mom and Me <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> * My Journal * When my parents were growing up both of them lost their fathers at a very young and tender age. Mom lost her mother when she was only about 19 or 20 years old. Her mother was bedridden, not knowing who she was for years before she passed. As a “self absorbed” daughter I never thought much of it. I had my mom and dad…Parents don’t need their parents…right? Ha!…What do I know!!!??? N</span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">ot until Dad was over 80 years old, during one of our dear conversations, my father expressed sadness to me over not having his father around as a small child and </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: xx-small;">beyond</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> When I heard this I felt bad. I felt really bad that it didn’t “cross my mind” or concern me that my own father did not have a father “figure” for most or pretty much all of his life. I can’t imagine that for myself.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">So, I guess I should obviously feel blessed for the time I have had with my own mother and father. </span><span style="font-size: 11px;">And</span><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> I do. But I am also selfish…still want them around…still want to be able to tell them what’s going on in my life, and what’s not going on in my life...I want them STILL to help me parent my own kids nearly grown now.....no matter how old I am or how old I get.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> OK.....but....Mom is STILL physically here. I want to tell her stuff. I want to go on errands with her. I want to bake Dad’s favorite pumpkin pie with her. And I want Dad here to enjoy the finished homeade product. It can only be a memory…indeed...a good memory that no one can take away from me.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> The photo I show is a recent picture of Mom and me. Mostly I just stare at her. I talk to her as well. I tell her I love her. Sometimes she seems to notice but not so much anymore. She still “jibber jabbers” when she has the energy. On this day as I held her hand, she “suckled” my finger. I believe she was kissing me. I will cherish that moment. It’s all I have with her. It needs to be OK. So, I guess… I think….that ought to be put on the list as a blessed good thing. And it truly is.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> Mom turns 85 on Monday. Happy Birthday my dear mother. Love you.</span></div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-74982346306642052072013-10-02T15:07:00.000-07:002013-10-02T15:07:32.220-07:00<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">* My Journal * Wow...it's October of 2013. I am now a two year breast cancer survivor. I am still under the watchful eye of my surgeon, and as long as I continue to take the cancer drug, tamoxifen, I am in the care of my oncologist. This is only for preventative measures to try and avoid a cancer recurrence. (I don't know how much longer I will be taking the drug...possibly up to five years.) My medical appointment schedule keeps getting more spread out as I keep receiving "all-star" check-ups! I would say I am in a "nice place". </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Because of my position, I have gained a high respect for Breast Cancer Awareness month--Pink October it is! This makes for an attention getting notice for everyone to plan your screenings and check-ups. I like to extend this month of awareness for not only a reminder of breast cancer screenings, but also for </span>preventative and <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">testing procedures for other cancers. I have said this before and I will say it again... and again....I am alive and healthy because of tending to my annual screenings. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As well as continuing the fight against breast cancer, October is also a wonderful month to reflect on the concept of giving and supporting the needs of others. With that said, let’s continue to come together... make a donation... run in a charity race....maybe volunteer at an event . Let's make a difference....Believe in the “Power of Pink”. I do BELIEVE! ... </span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And that’s a good thing.</span></div>
JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-73485546257952936512013-06-09T23:27:00.000-07:002013-06-09T23:51:14.705-07:00A Dance Recital's Beautiful Moment...(and it's not about "the" dance.)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"> * My Journal * This past weekend was spent tending to Amy as she performed in three dance recitals over the course of two days. I definitely had a most precious "feel good" moment... a moment, I will indeed cherish forever. What captured my heart? No…it was not about a breath taking lyrical dance, or an inspirational ballet with exquisite precision. It also wasn't about watching the priceless "little ones" performing in their very first recital...(although I must say nothing gets cuter). It wasn't even about the joy of witnessing Amy and her peers flow across the stage with maturity and grace.</span></span></div>
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JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-51758749495879971482013-05-14T14:04:00.001-07:002013-05-14T14:04:04.261-07:00MY GUILTY VERDICT... (please forgive?)<br />
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* My Journal * For some time, I have been at odds with myself when I make visits to see my mother in the Alzheimer's Unit of the nursing home. Wouldn't you think to see my mother having a "good day", (relatively speaking), that I would be pleased for that "good day"? You would think....but I am not. And wouldn't you also think I would be happy when one of the caretakers tells me of Mom's success with the latest "feeding". As the aide gives me this "good news", I find myself falling into an internal slump with disappointment. Whenever one of Mom's "helpers" approaches me in excitement with a "good" report, I seem to have to pretend that so called "good news" makes me "glad". Nope. As I smile at the aide with the "good news", inside I am not feeling glad. I am not feeling happy. A repeated feeling of discouragement that I can't control hits me. ...and hits me again and again.<br />
Am I crazy....has the devil latched my heart!!? Maybe. Don't get me wrong. I haven't always felt this way. It seems to be another phase of this Alzheimer's journey. I just quietly think, every day Mom has a "good day", just prolongs the agony of living life in such a pathetic state that I see her live, day in and day out... turning into years.... a life....dare I say....not worth living. Yikes... I did say that! Let me pause...............this feels wrong... am I just being selfish, insensitive, cold?.... but again I can't seem to reverse my thoughts.<br />
Only recently, my visits with Mom have been practically intolerable for myself. Mom, the victim of this disease, has gone through her own unpredictable stages of chaos. Many of which parallel my own emotions as a winding roller coaster turning upside down at times. <br />
I have been a regular visitor to the John Knox Village Alzheimer's unit for over five years now. I have gotten to know many victims of this disease where my mother is in this place called "home". This disease can bring on numerous annoying habits and irksome behaviors with these unfortunate human beings. Mom has auditioned habits that are so disgusting, I can't even write about them. The latest that I CAN write about seems to be the hardest for me to bare but mentioning may sound only silly unless you were to witness this for yourself. The first time I became aware of this behavior, I did not know what "it" was. I kept hearing a very loud grinding screeching noise almost sounding like styrofoam twisting and breaking, worse than the sound of finger nails scratching down a chalkboard. The noise is heard all through the unit. Then the discovery.....this mysterious and disturbing turbulence is my mother grinding her teeth. OK....if you can handle ten sets of fingernails scratching down a chalkboard, and NOT stopping.... then....no big deal. As for myself, I can't even fathom toleration of this. I just want to get out of there. I sense a feeling of suffocation and I also feel like I'm losing my mind with intolerance. Then I think, if only it could be "over". There I go again...thinking bad and unrelenting thoughts. But is it bad? Is it wrong to wish my mother to move on to a better place? That seems justifiable....tell me I'm right? Even so, I do stand before the judge and declare myself "Guilty". I am guilty that I keep wishing for the end to come. Not that I am looking forward to it....of course not. I am guilty for finding myself growing with less and less inspiration to visit Mom in her state... and now that she has this new "tick" about her, I seem to simply dread it. I am guilty for not being grateful for Mom having a "good day" or eating a "good meal". Someday it will finally be over, and then crazy me will be yearning to hear her grinding teeth one more time.<br />
I recently saw Robin Roberts being interviewed. She theorized, "No matter how old you are when you are going through a hard time, you still want your "mommy"."She is right. I truly believe I lost my mom many years ago to the horrible disease that has overtaken her life. There have been so many moments I have wanted my "mommy". But as I visit her, only a shell of her sole exists. Robin Roberts lost her Mom when she was to start her bone marrow treatments. What a painful time in life.<br />
I can not overturn my feelings and my guilty verdict, but I do know I need to dwell and focus on the mother my mom will always be to me. What a blessing my mother has been. My mother, JoAnn Moll Bryan has been an amazing human being. One that is "oh" so kindhearted, loving, and generous. Her life has been simple and pure. How nice. She has always been loyal to helping others and being there when in need. Her life has never been about her... never never selfish, only generous. She has been a devoted mother, committed wife, and faithful friend to many. I do indeed miss my "mommy". However, her sweet demeanor still comes through now and then at the nursing home. That is good. She is very loved there. That is also good. <br />
Dear Mom....I Love You....and God Bless You!!!<br />
And guilty or not, that is simply a good thing.JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-69237905567506431812012-11-11T22:42:00.000-08:002012-11-11T22:42:23.868-08:00MY HERO...my Dad...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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* My Journal * I have said this before and I will say it again....my dad is my hero. He is my hero for simply being my dad. He is my hero because he was truly an honest man on this earth. He is my hero because he took care of us...my family. And very importantly towards the end of his life, he fought so hard and stayed so faithful in the care of my mother as he was very ill himself. He was so wise and still is. What I mean is he has been gone for five years now, yet he is still taking care of Mom because of the way he financially planned his last years. Dad made sure Mom with her Alzheimer's condition would be cared for in the nursing home. He knew this is what he needed to do...for her and for the family. What a blessing. I thank him for that. I always had a good relationship with my dad. In his last years, Dad and I developed an even closer bond during all the struggles with Mom and his own health. It was truly special. I miss you Dad.<br />
As I look at him as my hero...my dad...he is also a hero of our country. My dad served the Navy in World War II. He never talked about it much until he wrote his memoir late in his life. It was astonishing to read, but more astonishing to me that he never spoke about it. I had no idea Dad was inches from losing his life when his ship was hit.... there were more disturbing stories. <br />
Today, I salute my hero...my dad...but I also salute our many countless heroes of our country...those who have passed and those still with us. Thank you for your service. God bless you all. Let's celebrate all our military heroes on this Veteran's Day. That's a good thing.JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628680416437251482.post-34531647611523845962012-10-25T23:16:00.000-07:002012-10-25T23:16:54.574-07:00Please...Think Pink..."AND then some MORE"...(a special prayer for Emily)<br />
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* My Journal * Here it is again...October...Breast Cancer Awareness Month! This is my second October as a breast cancer survivor myself. So once again I am reminding everyone of the importance of annual screenings. I can't emphasize enough of this yearly habit to imprint into our lives. It's a "little" annoying procedure to schedule that is truly life saving. Many of us are "living proof"! This year I would like to extend this reminder to more than just breast cancer. I apply this to include screenings for all types of cancer and more. As I say this, I also want to extend my thoughts and prayers to all who are suffering in pain with their own health challenges. This includes family and friends who are agonizing in emotional stress as they support their loved ones in a health crisis. Yes....we all know someone. I think of many individuals I know myself who need support, positive thoughts, prayers... maybe a hug. I still think it would be nice to be able to wave a magic wand, and <span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"</i>presto"</span>...the "bad stuff" magically disappears... everything is good. I guess it's never that easy. Again, my prayers go out to many, and just recently I want to also wave that magic wand with positive energy and prayers to Emily Mayfield who was, just this month, diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Emily is an admirable young lady, (many will tell you so...as she attains a wonderful "demeanor" including an inspiring attitude). She is also a Kansas-State College student who is the daughter of some very dear people, Bruce and Liz. Bruce has been a friend since junior high school days and I adore his wife, Liz. I hope and pray every day for Emily. I think we should all come together this month for Emily, and for others in need of our thoughts and our prayers. Let's turn the color pink into a beautiful rainbow! Wave that magic wand! That's a good thing.<br />
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Emily's story--<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px; font-family: Helvetica;"><a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/emilymayfield/mystory">http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/emilymayfield/mystory</a></span>JB Hunt Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07616309305940588567noreply@blogger.com0