Persistence

Okay, today was a bit disappointing. I haven’t had the urge to write about my week because I didn’t have any cool pictures to put up this time and I didn’t want to displace all those beautiful photos and Jamie’s wonderful, and graphic, description of her first week of motherhood. God willing, and weather permitting, the family will all be here for dinner tomorrow night, including our new Presley Bella. First thing tomorrow morning, Saul’s cast is coming off and I hope that he won’t be in pain and can help me prepare for our 18 guests for dinner.

An hour ago, I found out that I did not win the Pom Wonderful Contest for bloggers with my Spinach Salad entry, but I was one of the eight finalists, so my site is listed with a live feed there, and the number of competitors checking me out should boost my blog’s exposure, which is more than I had hoped when I entered. I have caught the contest bug, and spent last evening looking at former finalists in the Pillsbury Bake-Off Contest where the grand prize is a million dollars. This morning, before I was fully awake, I came up with what I think is a brilliant idea for a submission, and spent the morning playing with it. Saul was very happy when he came home from school today and had several breakfasts all laid out on plates and waiting for him. He hadn’t had a chance to have lunch. We all had my experiments for lunch and dinner.

Another disappointment was that the mandelbread photo I submitted to Foodgawker was rejected for too much light glare. I just discovered Foodgawker, so this was my first rejection. I submitted four more photos this evening, but took them into Photoshop first to tweak them a bit.

My friend Roxy and I have been doing a lot of talking lately about persistence. Her husband, George, is at war with the squirrels on his property which have been demolishing his bird feeders. Roxy is constantly amused watching the clever ways they are able to beat his systems for thwarting them and is convinced that the squirrels are winning the war because of their persistence. They are constantly trying new ways to get at the prize and don’t give up until they succeed. Roxy has been submitting the memoir she wrote to publishers for a while now and has gotten her share of rejections. The squirrels are an inspiration to her to keep trying, and I have been cheerleading her since she began to just keep sending it out no matter how many times it may be rejected. It is a good memoir, and persistence will get it published someday.

Mom’s health has been sliding the last few days. I suppose I have been anticipating this time, but it is still hard to stay cheerful. For the last couple of weeks, she has been getting more and more shaky with her walker. In addition, she has had a struggle to get up from her chair and we have had to bring the wheelchair in order to get her back to her bedroom. I can no longer rely on Saul with his fractured arm to help me lift or support her. In the last week, she has given up the struggle to get to the kitchen table with her walker and has resigned herself to the wheelchair. A few days ago, Kathy, her hospice nurse, watched her walking and deemed her a falling risk and said it was no longer safe to use her walker to get to the bathroom at night by herself. That means that I am back to emptying the commode next to her bed in the morning. It is no big deal, but I fear what will happen if a time comes when she can no longer get out of bed. That will cause suffering for all of us.

I learned a great lesson from Saul two years ago when he had the stroke that temporarily (thank God!) paralyzed his right side. He never lost his sense of humor through the whole ordeal and I learned from him that a sense of humor and a positive outlook can get you through almost anything. Mom looks forward to his coming home every day because he jokes with her and makes light of her condition. It takes a special strength to be able to laugh through the pain. Perhaps it is genetic. Within a few days of having his first leg amputated, his father appalled me by making jokes about having one foot in the grave. That is another story that I have already written and will put up here someday. Suffice it to say that Orthodox Jews believe in being buried with all their body parts and his leg was truly in his grave.

I am working on that part of myself that wants to wring my hands and cry out in misery. I intend to persist in suppressing that part and developing the better part of myself that can find laughter and love in every aspect of the human condition. As long as I live, I will persist. It is quite a struggle for me, though.