Thursday, August 20, 2015

Your Dying Spouse 47 - And Not To Yield

Time again for Five Minute Friday, hosted by kate Motaung. Please drop by for some really fine timed-writing essays, inspired by a keyword...which, this week, is FIND.

Execute.

"...to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

That's the last line of Tennyson's poem Ulysses, which describes the discontent of the Trojan War hero on his return home, and his determination to face old age on his own terms.

"...it may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
it may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
and see the great Achilles, whom we knew."

In this journey to death by vicious illness that I would never have chosen, there are things I am learning...one of those is that to the people physically around me, I have become the illness.

It's the sum total of what I represent, and contribute.

But there's so much more...

"Tho' much is taken, much abides, and tho'
we are not now that strength which in old days
moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are."

I can still do things that few others can do; I was a master metalworker. Those skills may largely be in abeyance, but they are not lost. It may take a week or even two to do what once took a day...but I can still do it.

But I am defined, for others, by something I abhor, and if I want to retain something more, it has to be my job to seek it out again.

To find it.

And never, ever to yield.

Even if no one is looking.

Endex

These are getting tougher and tougher to write...I've got to go deeper, and there are things I might rather not share. But I HAVE to.
Otherwise, I'll be writing, living - and dying - a lie.

34 comments:

  1. Andrew, it is so easy to define others by what we see. And I'm sorry people around you define you by your illness. You are so much more than that! The essence of who you are doesn't change, in spite of the circumstances you're living in. Your determination to not yield is a beautiful testimony to who you are. Thank you for sharing the hard things. Your words give me the ability to see with more depth.

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    1. Jeanne, thank you so much. It can be hard not to resent others seeing me as simply "that dying dude", but their lives have a certain rhythm and pace, and I'm not a part of it.

      And it is easy to shift blame - but I am, in the end, the one who has to see the value in what I can still accomplish. Self respect is within my grasp...the emphasis is on the 'my'. It can't be handed to me.

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  2. Andrew- Your words always pack a powerful punch. Beautiful words describing an ugly pain. I know it feels like you are only what you contribute and that people can't see beyond your illness, but here - in this writing space, I don't see a dying person. I see someone fully present, feeling much, and contributing more than you know.

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    1. Karen, thank you so much - without the support of my writing friends, I would be in a much harder place.

      One can't blame those whose view is narrowed by appearances - their lives move with speed and intensity, and all they can do is judge by what they see on the surface; to look further, they'd have to stop and take the time...and at the pace of the world, they don't feel they can afford to gamble on what might be a dry hole, or a slow 'payoff'.

      And in the end, I have to respect who I am...noone can do it for me.

      Thanks so much for being here...find any more black cats lately? ;)

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  3. Your words are a good reminder to not just see the illness, or the age, or the lack of ability, but to see the people underneath it all. Good reminder. Thanks. FMF neighbour.

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    1. Thank you, Annette. You're absolutely right - this applies in all of those categories you mentioned, and more.

      Before I stopped going out to shop, I still went to WalMart, and I was shaky. One day a couple of local homies came up to me, took my list, and one finished the shopping while the other gave me a shoulder to get to a bench at the front of the store.

      They paid for my groceries, took me home, and put everything away.

      Some people saw gang members. I saw the reflection of Jesus' face.

      I asked one why - he said that maybe someone would do the same for his Mom, some day.

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  4. Loved everything about this response. Especially loved the last lines.

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    1. Helen, thank you so much! I am so glad - no, overjoyed - to see you here again.

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  5. Andrew, it makes me sad that your family and friends only see your illness. You are so much more. You are a beloved Son of God. You are a man who is bravely sharing his story with is all. I am so very thankful I'm here. I'm parked in the #16 spot this week!

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    1. It makes me sad too, Tara, and I was hesitant to write this...but it's a common experience, and it's not really 'their' fault.

      Life gets busy, and the demands are such that many people have to use pigeonholes. Sometimes they work out OK, but in some cases -mine - the pigeonhole isn't a correct representation of what I still can offer.

      I'm thankful you're here, too. Your comments always brighten my day.

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  6. Andrew,
    I'm writing in the morning so you will not "find" my post yet. You are not pregnant, though you would have borne it well...but for almost a year, that is how I was defined. I was still me, but my visible condition was all that people chose to discuss.
    You are so wise to share with many the frustration of becoming a condition instead of remaining a person.
    I see you as a satirical welcome friend who is willing to be blunt but always desires to speak truth in love. You are dying faster than I, but you are also living fuller.
    You receive a standing ovation from Fmf tonight!!
    If the living aren't living, then what consequence does death even present them?

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    1. Oh, Tammy...for some reason you're bringing tears to my eyes tonight.

      The truth is, FMF has made it possible for me to live, to survive, and yes! to thrive.

      YOU have made it possible.

      What consequence does death present, indeed - but I am living, and living well, held above the stormy sea by love.

      I am the luckiest man alive.

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    2. Every Good and perfect gift comes from the Father above. FMF has become a gift to me as well. It's so selfish of me to hope you have a long time left here, but I do try to "find" your post every week. You're usually in the top 10. And, for good reason.
      Well, we're even now. You made me cry and now I've made you cry, and I couldn't even make a face at you. (YOU DID IT!!!)
      God knows that we love to please Him and we long to be affirmed and He's using this crazy crew of misfits to do exactly that.
      Glad to be in the ranks with you, sir. You are a gift.

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    3. And you likewise, Tammy - I just came from your FMF post, where you described the lady who is fleeing the darkness...with your help.

      You're so important. She needed a friend, and there you are!

      Thank you for that example. Thank you for being.

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  7. To me? You are brave. Courageous. Smart. Really smart. And, did I say BRAVE? Andrew, it is always a joy to FIND your dog photo in the lineup and then go read because I know it's going to be really good. Today you didn't disappoint. xo I think I'm 32 at Kate's but it seems her site is down and I cannot double check.

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    1. Oh, Susan, thank you! The dog's name is Sylvia...I think she likes the recognition that she gets.

      Thank you so much for the kind words; this blog is a very tough writing project, tough because everything has to be right, and to be true, even when it hurts.

      I'll see if Kate's site is back up, and I'll look for you.

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  8. I define you as 'writer of brave words' and 'warrior against the expected'. May God continue to grant you life and words, my friend!

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    1. Thank you so much! I hope God grants me both, as well - to Him the glory, in any event.

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  9. Who you are is, first and foremost, an inspiring writer.

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    1. Takes one to know one, Jan! :)

      And...thank you.

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  10. But thank you for writing honestly. Perhaps you will find this interesting:
    www.bulleidlocos.org.uk/_wc/wcbernard.aspx
    I was told about this hand-built model steam train recently. The parts were all hand-manufactured from scratch. Just rescaling the plans took a few years, I understand. Incredible. I was completely blown away - engineering, crafting and creativity at their best - and an achievement of decades to be celebrated. Art and creation in whatever form is very powerful - through touching and standing in awe of something that someone hand-crafted. Utterly unique as the maker.
    I understand your interest is more in aeroplanes? Keep going, no matter how painfully or slowly... finding the love in the craft every time.

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    1. I will take a look at that, Ruth...thanks! I do love steam engines, be they stationary, for road or field, or railway use. A steam engine is something alive; it breathes on you.

      Most of what I've done is for aeroplanes, yes. I've made a number of parts in the past for Spitfires in the restoration process. A very, very complex beast, that!

      Thank you so much for being here - I always look forward to your comments.

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  11. There are interesting people in this world and I find you to be one of them. I'm amazed at your knowledge and blessed by your compassion. I, selfishly, want you to defy the odds and live another ten to twenty years. You have a unique voice with think-for-yourself perspective. That is always a good thing in my book. I know if you and I were to meet we would have an engaging conversation because you are not one dimensional, you have many dimensions plus a relationship with God that is tender. I know this by your comments to others, your writings, and your acceptance of others. I don't know about the dogs, tho! Hah! Fight on...

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    1. Norma, thank you - I'd like another ten or twenty years, as well. And I would enjoy that conversation...pain and fatigue have, I fear, robbed by voice of the vigour it once possessed, but I can still take part in dialogue. I think we would have much to discuss - shoes and ships and sealing-wax, cabbages and kings! (I stole that quite shamelessly, but I can't recall from where.)

      And the dogs...they're a happy, if rather vocal crew. They range from ten-pound Bella (of the broken back, who's learning to walk again) to a 150-lb Rottie, Survivor (who is quite intimidated by Bella). One to every taste!

      Thank you so much for being here, Norma - I appreciate it when you stop by.

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  12. I want be like you when, and if, I grow up. praying for you.

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    1. Thank you! I have tried to avoid growing up, myself. They say when you're a grownup you can't wear a purple mohawk...and I still want one.

      Thank you especially for the prayers, Denise. When I see your 'praying woman' avatar, it gives me a feeling of profound peace...does that make sense?

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  13. Andrew, wow, your story here is so deeply personal, and powerful. It is a blessing to have you share your life. SO glad to "find" your words! Have a blessed weekend!

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    1. I'm so glad you're here, that you found me! Or, I should say, found 'us', because this journey's become a collaboration. I learn so much from those who comment, and who share their hearts...there are many hands that work this keyboard, and for that I am ever-grateful.

      I hope you had a wonderful weekend, as well!

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  14. I am always glad to see you and learn from you and your words. You always write with such emotion and heart that I know I am getting the real deal when I visit and I appreciate that. We tend to be a world of people that sees only what we want to see instead of digging deeper. Thank you for being brave enough to dig deeper. So good to have you at Weekend Whispers, the new Weekend Brew home!!

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    1. Wow, Mary...thank you! The digging process is tough - there is so much I would sometimes rather not face!

      But if I do face it...it's not that it becomes 'less scary' for me, but maybe someone else will find a perspective from which it's less scary for THEM.

      That's the mission.

      And I am honoured to be able to be a part of Weekend Whispers - love you guys!

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  15. I know I've been looking at and for you, Andrew, and am always amazed at your lucidness and wisdom in spite of the disease that wages war in your body. But you are right, you and everyone else who fights a similar battle must find purpose that is not defined by the circumstances but by our character and passions. Yours are shining through!

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    1. Beth, thank you so much for this. I do try; and being lucid can be a challenge. It can take quite a while to frame, and edit blog posts, comments, and replies. But it's worth it; what I can give is far more than matched by that which I receive, in the form of support and love.

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  16. It is so hard to go deep into our souls, and share with others...you do this time and time again and inspire so many others' who read and follow your blog. Your words, always, touch deep; you are appreciated so much for your efforts; for your words; for what you are doing to share this "journey" with us.

    Thank you, Andrew, for persevering...prayers as always (I've been away from the computer for a few days; home now, but it's taking me forever to catch up with reading, writing, etc. - not to mention the house-hold chores!).

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    1. Thank you, Barbara; I always hope the sharing helps others on their paths, or in facing what might one day come...and I am so grateful for the company on this oft-lonely road.

      I'm very glad that you had a good trip; I just stopped by your blog awhile ago, and am still smiling at your descriptions and pictures.

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