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Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Buffering



Buffering......not Buffeting





"My sister has died.  It is the first time I have faced life's challenges without her,"   Lucretia said as tears ran down her face.

Susan died!  Susan who understood everything.  Susan who "got it" everytime Lucretia spoke.  So close in age they were almost twins.  Almost.

Susan.  That was where Lucretia planned to go if she ever became homeless.






Image result for images of a woman in a casketpinterest.com

Susan it was  who spear-headed the visits and vacations of three sisters.  Laughing at their younger tag-a-long sister Angie who "never got it".

"Oh, yes.  Angie and I  are close because of Susan's death.  We went through that together.  But she is not a buffer.  I need Susan.  I need that buffer against the world."

"I cannot even imagine a sister who gets it....who loves you.....  who cares,"  I say.

"I know your sister died about the same time as mine," Lucretia says, tears trickling from her eyes. "Don't you miss her?"

"No."

"You don't miss your sister?"

"No  and I avoid people who remind me of her.  She didn't buffer me.  She buffeted me.  Always. Well, not always.  Once she was there for me.  Well, twice.  But stack those two times up against all the times she kicked me and punched me and ratted on me and led me astray and she comes off in my mind as a buffeting sister I was close to, but do not miss.  I'm sorry.  Should I lie about this?"

"I just don't understand."

"Well, it was what it was.  Of course I stole her steady boyfriend as a joke just to prove I could, but heck, we were grown up by then."

Lucretia just looks at me.  Uncomprehending, she stares at me.

"Yeh," I admit.  "I need mercy, too.  But I am glad, truly glad, your family were nice folks."



I really am grateful for Lucrecia's great blessings.  Gratitude is my gift.

Forgiving others is something I have to strive for.

pinterest.com







All my friends are forgiving people.  Go figure.


Thanks for dropping by,
I am grateful,
Riverwatch






Saturday, August 20, 2016

No Generation Gap











                         

visionpsychology.com






Indi, my granddaughter, age 4

After multiple requests for screen time in a three minute period without pause Indi says "Do you known what would make me happy?" 

Exhausted and ready to explain yet again that she used up all her screen time for today, Indi's mom  let out a short irritated "What?!!"

 Indi replies, "To known what happens when I die." 



Quoted correctly.  

Known makes sense to me, does it to you?
I myself am a little jaded about past tense, present tense and future tense!
Does it really matter??

                                  dailymail.co.uk



                                                                             
                                                                                                                         pinterest.com



weeklygripes.co.uk
"Nope, the answer isn't in here.  
I looked it up on the internet, too.  Nope.  No answer there.
We get to guess what the answer is.  
What do you think is the answer?
What would you like the answer to be?"



I appreciate your visit.
AND your prayers!
Riverwatch






Wednesday, August 3, 2016

When God Says Thank You




linkedin.com






from Into the Mud. The blog of Christine Jeske

When God says thank you

Normally when we think of thanksgiving and God, we think of these two things in the direction of us thanking God, right? 
I have recently been astounded by the concept that God could actually thank us.  That’s pretty boggling when you think in terms of how much and how frequently we mess up, at least as compared to how little God messes up.  In the game of Not Messing Up, it’s like God scores google-infinity and we score about five.
So why would God thank us?
I was recently touched to read through the book of Mark and stumble upon a story of a woman getting “rebuked harshly.”  It’s the story of a woman who pours out expensive oil on Jesus’ feet, and some disciples say she wasted her gift.
Then Jesus says, right in front of a bunch of men, in a setting where a woman like her should have been treated like trash, Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me… She did what she could.” (Mark 14:5-8)
This is not about my ego.  In fact I think accepting thanks from God if anything actually shrinks our egos.  The ironic thing is it does so in a way that actually reveals us to be even more valuable than we thought, not less.  No, this isn’t about me, it’s about the fact that I know some of you need to know that you have done beautiful things for Jesus.  You have done what you could.
Let that sink in for a minute.  Ok, I could be wrong, but if you sit in silence for a minute and give yourself permission, I bet there’s something Jesus would say you did well. In a parable of servants waiting for their master to come back, there really are ones who get to hear the master say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”  (Mt. 25:21)
                                            I just wanted to include a blog post I found interesting.


**





Giving thanks
Image result for images of Godchannel.nationalgeographic.com



Receiving thanks
jamesaltucher.com





Thanks for buzzing by,
Riverwatch








Friday, July 22, 2016

To Sing







Image result for images of person looking off into the skytime.com



                                                                        pinterest.com





It is right that we should always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.





Image result for images of person looking off into the sky
pinterest.com








I appreciate your visit.
Riverwatch









Sunday, July 17, 2016

If At First You Don't Succeed







Repost: just a reminder


Do you find yourself saying the things your mother said to you when you were young? Photo: Fotolia / Julia - Fotolia
chron.com




One of my sons came to visit, his smart phone in his hand.

"Here, Mom,  I have to show you something your one and only daughter posted on facebook."


pinterest.com

Oh, my gosh!  I am so pleased!

"Oh, my gosh", I blurt out.  "I am 71 and my daughter finally gets it!"

"Mom!" he replies in a shocked voice.  "This is not about you!  You are history!  This is about HER daughter who just quit college.  You are history."

O M G!!  He said that to me while I am still living!

I am 71 and I am history.

Living History.


Oh My Gosh,  I'm beginning to sound like Hillary.



Cheerio,
thanks for the wave,
Riverwatch









Monday, July 4, 2016

Hidden Wealth. Happy 4th of July!




Hidden Wealth


                                 thoughtyoumightask.com



The Hidden Wealth of Poverty:


a sense of humor


a clearly marked path to become a non-conformist


the freedom to become an eccentric if we chose
and the joy of understanding other eccentrics


sensual....sensual......sensuality


an ability to make do

**





Could the appearance of 
changes in our thinking in old age be in
any way linked to our new  poverty......
or for some of us, a continuance of our
poverty?


Just wondering, 
and so glad you came to visit,

Riverwatch



       
















Sunday, July 3, 2016

Jewel of Diversity Is Our World





The World, Jewel of Diversity

Image result for images of the earth as a jewel
pinterest.com


Pope Francis: 'You cannot make fun of the faith of others'

"There are so many people who speak badly about religions or other religions, who make fun of them, who make a game out of the religions of others,” he said.  They are provocateurs. And what happens to them is what would happen to Dr Gasparri if he says a curse word against my mother. There is a limit.”





I love this Pope.
I am not Catholic, but I love him.  I am emotionally strengthened by many of his actions and his words.
Of course I do not believe everything he says.  After all, I am a Protestant.  
Then again, I don't believe everything any human says, and I disbelieve myself from time to time!    
                                                                                                                                                           
But I do believe in free speech, I demand it!
Even for you.
And I believe sometimes it is so important to express your truth that paying the price, the fall-out, is just the cost of "free" speech.
I have paid the price sometimes!  Perchance you have also.

But in a world gone mad, is it not more important to be sane, than to be "funny", even if comedy is a way of expressing deep-seated hurt or fear?
Is it not more important to thoughtfully consider the cost, the fall-out to other people, not just one's self?

I, Riverwatch, needed to hear the Pope's words.

I myself need reminded that there are limits.

Yes, violence begets violence,
.........and reactions can become chain reactions,
............... and I am horrified at the escalations.
                                                                                                                                       
Still and all, there is a limit to free speech, free expression.

Speech itself is a priviledge.

Handle with care.

Or as my mom  said to me, "For god's sake, shut up!"

     

I'm still working on that, old age notwithstanding!


Thank you for your kind visit.
Riverwatch


















Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Summer Afternoon in Ohio










Summer Afternoon in Ohio
by Riverwatch



Animated moving cinemagraph of heavy rain storm looking down tree covered lanenetanimations.net




                                     
                                  



                                                                                        
It is a dark afternoon and I am most thrilled! 
No lightening, of course, or my excitement would twist into anxiety, an easy turn for me. 
The low-slung clouds shift even lower giving the Ohio wind a dramatic boost our way.
Hey! Ain't this great?” shouts Markie, waving his stick in the wind.
Hell”, muses Carolyn cautiously. She, being the oldest sibling and self-deceived about the importance of her role within our small group, tries to decide whether to proceed further on our woodland hike and risk a cloud burst, or whether to turn back home to a boring summer afternoon.

Naturally Carolyn does not discuss the workings of her mind with me and Markie. This top-dog-isolation is part and parcel of her straight-A-student aura.

That is OK, her not needing our brain power. She will not try to turn us back. Now that I am 13 and Markie is 12, we are much harder to influence. No power struggles have ever ensued among us. Carolyn's decision-making power only means she will be the target for the fall-out from any choices we make this day. She does not have the power of choice.

Markie and I have the real power, the power to remain blameless.

So we go deeper into the darkening green of the woods. Youth swirls around us like an energy field, cleansing our blood for purer oxygen uptake, stretching our nerves to the transparency of fairy wings, clearing parental voices from our heads, and erasing all thoughts of failure. We are alive with hope.

Markie promptly runs off to the left and disappears beyond the crest of a mossy ravine. Carolyn watches, unsmiling and mute.
I imagine Riley coming over the out-cropped rock to the right. Accidentally, of course. I imagine his surprise, his yummy smile of gladness to bump into me! Darlene is not with him, of course.

Markie returns, bored without his female audience. “Hurry up!” he commands us. My reverie ends abruptly but the wind hugs me firmly in my sudden feeling of aloneness.
Carolyn turns her back on Markie, knowing some personal power exists in denying him audience.
She trudges straight ahead.
Markie snarls his face silently at her departing back. I laugh and he relaxes, good humor restored. We follow slowly behind our sister.
Nathan Frost likes you”, Markie offers by way of conversation.
How has my brother figured out my crush on Nathan? I am mortified. I say nothing.
Really,” he doggedly pursues.
I still say nothing, and I hurry ahead to catch up with Carolyn.
Riley, not Nathan, is the one I allow to walk softly through my dreams. Riley is a wounded young man, a lonely only child, somewhat abandoned by his father  in the horrid heart-wrenching aftermath of his mom's untimely and sudden death.

I love feeling sorry for Riley.

Nathan, on the other hand, completely scrambles me.
Nathan is athletic, scholastic, class leader and likes everybody. Even walking beside him makes me mute but I do love walking beside him!
But this is my business and is none of Markie's business and furthermore, I do not like the fact that I sometimes see Nathan talking to my younger brother!

Just then the skies open up on us! The cloudburst is sudden though not without warning. 
The forest trees offer no protection whatsoever. Carolyn has already turned back towards home and Markie and I follow her but in front of her.
“Get moving!” she orders as small rivers of water begin cascading down the hill.
Markie breaks into a run.
Carolyn breaks into a run.
I do not feel like running, especially after them.
The rain is stinging my face and arms. Suddenly Carolyn and Markie outdistance me and disappear. Now I feel like running.
Finally the cloudburst is over but we are soaked, muddy and still panting heavily as we straggle up the graveled path to home.
Carolyn climbs the steps to the porch. Mom is standing in the doorway with arms folded. Carolyn speaks as an adult to Mom. “Some of your children are idiots.”
Mom does not correct her.
Markie is the real idiot”, I say for no apparent reason as I pass Mom.
Markie grins. “Did I tell you Nathan loves Betsy? He likes you. He loves Betsy.”

Serves all-you-all right”, Mom says matter-of-factly, looking at our plight. “I told all-you-all not to go.”

Who cares whether Mom cares or not. It doesn't matter. Nathan loves Betsy.





Thursday, June 23, 2016

Essence



Essence

A poem by Riverwatch                                  


Ahh, the desert.

In a sunlit land, life is different.
Golden light,
   immense moonbeams
      that let the sun in after the stars come out.


Ahh, the desert.

Where life is clear.
Where the spirit moves free with the wind
      to rustle through the spiny plants
         to blow the dust from off the mind.

Ahh, the desert.

The heart is bleeding in the desert.
The wind, it dries a leaky heart
   and whispers to the mind
      erasing footprints, terraforming.

Where life begins, not ends.

Ahh, the desert.


Where an unfamiliar dimension
   is miraging on the shimmering horizon
      and will not be dispelled.

Life has changed.

Layer after layer after layer blown away
   leaving only the message of the Creator
      and the essence of the created.

Ahh.

The desert.

Spiritual.
Superior.
Unpretentious.


Apropos, the desert dwellers.
Spiritual.
Superior.
Unpretentious.
Kind.
Fun.















Thursday, June 16, 2016

Drop by Drop


netanimations.net





'He who learns must suffer


And even in our sleep

pain that cannot forget 

falls drop by drop upon the heart,


And in our own despair,

against our will,


Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.'

Aeschylus
                                                                                                      






thanks for dropping by,

hoping you return again,
Riverwatch 









Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Educators


I don't know how it is in your church,

or mountainside open-air cathedral, 
or lake side beach chair,
or even cassino,

but in the church I attend, every Sunday there is a portion of the worship service where we can turn in cards requesting prayer for a specific person or circumstance.




Not only do we get to pray for each others' concerns and dilemmas as Pastor leads us in prayer, but we also get to hear the concerns and dilemmas of the crowd.

This Mother's Day Sunday we prayed for several people, war-torn nations, weather and travel.
But the prayer request that pierced my heart was the prayer for education and educators.

I believe that was the first time I heard that prayed over.....
or maybe just the first time it pierced my heart.
My daughter, a school teacher, had called me the night before in such anguish over how education has gone in our nation.
My heart was open to the anguish of educators.

As I have added education and educators to my prayer list, I wonder what specific should I pray for?
It is all complex even in America.........
                     and fraught  with many  issues,
                                  dangerous issues, in some other lands
                                                       and for some other peoples.

But since science disproves science (again and again), I will start praying for lifelong learning for all of us.
We must be ever learning .

Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere,


                                                                                                     
                                                                                                                                        fotosearch.com






Go tell it on the mountain.

Image result for images of clasping an outreached handzoeaustrailia.org


I appreciate you and your visit,
Riverwatch



2 Timothy 1:7   For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power,
                          and of love, and of a sound mind.







Wednesday, June 8, 2016

The Classroom






http://yoursmiles.org/gsmile/flower1/g40253.gif



I have learned that the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.









Sweet Dreams

 



Sweet Dreams Into Nightmares

Sweet dreams are so important to the well being of our being.
Well, my daughter says it is actually travel, concerts and celebrations in real life that are the ticket to fortified well-being.
It is not that I disbelieve her.  It is just there is none of that in my life at present, nor is there anything on the horizon.
I have to opt for dreamland.

I read that nightmares are caused by dehydration and if you want  Sweet Dreams you must go to bed fully hydrated.
I drank a half pitcher of clear, cold, pure water and retired.

Oh, my gosh!!  The man I love was there in full and living color.  He was, of course, old, while I was so young and, probably pretty.  He was so sweet to me and he was thinking I was 20!
I secretly laughed wondering if it would be a deal breaker when he found out I am only 19!!!
          
                                 eugenblackwell16.typepad.com

Then I woke up.  Slowly
Reality hit like a thunderbolt out of nowhere.
O M G!   I am 72 !  
The living nightmare, the gap between 19 and 72,  was so bad I suddenly knew why some people kick the bucket during their sleep.
What physical turmoil can occur when you awaken from a Sweet Dream 
and realize you are OLD !!!!
Nausea assailed me.
 My heart raced.
My mind bent double back upon itself.
I survived that awakening. but I had a peek into why some people die "in their sleep".  They don't die in their sleep! They die waking up from a Sweet Dream to the Living Nightmare.

Later I met my son for a diet coke at Del Taco.  Our talk had died down into boring, so I told him about my Sweet Dream/Living Nightmare.
He laughed.
"Oh, Mom, don't worry.  Someday you'll be 98 and have a Sweet Dream that you are 72 and wake up screaming in a panic because it isn't true!"
                                                                                               



Well, life may be all about perspective, but let me tell you all this:
tonight I feast on Doritos  before dropping off into sleep.

Image result for images of doritos
snackoree.com



Let the well-hydrated have their Sweet Dreams.

Living Nightmares are not all that bad as long as they don't appear suddenly and without warning.

Oh   My   Gosh!     I am 72!

Loving life in a terrifying way
and loving you for visiting,
Riverwatch




Thursday, June 2, 2016

Oh, Doctor, My Doctor!

Cosmetic Surgery

Who is at most risk? The surgeon or the adolescent patient?

My darling granddaughter, Christina, decided to have  breast reduction surgery.


A stunningly beautiful girl, she was TIRED, TIRED TIRED of all the humiliation that is directed at over-endowed females in public.
Nobody encouraged her to have cosmetic surgery except her surgeon, her therapist, and her grandmother Riverwatch the RN.

Being an adolescent 19 years old without money, Chritina's parents did have to buy off on the procedure.
 Doesn't mean they approved.

My theory is that every woman deserves a running chance in public!

The female surgeon's theory is I might as well make the money as some dude surgeon.

Her therapist's theory is no other modality of treatment has worked so let's call this surgery a modality.
Image result for images for fainting young womanverywell.com




Dr. Wonderful was stunned at how her “mature and intelligent” patient turned into a freak of all freaks post-operatively.

Thank goodness for Smart Phones which can track and reach a falcon on a cloudy day!
Image result for images for fainting young womanverywell.com
Dr. Wonderful had no place to hide.



When Christina fell on her chest and created nice big hematomas, pictures flew back and forth over the wireless even in the middle of the night. Dr. Wonderful's return pictures were of NORMAL hematomas (there is no such thing) so Christina could compare her hematomas with normal ones and she could see how normal and non-life-threatening were those bulges of blood.

There was so much drama.
Image result for images for fainting young womanhuffingtonpost.com



 I was calm. I merely said, with typical lack of nursing sympathy, “Whatever possessed you to double up on your LorTab dose and then repeat it in an hour? No wonder you fell!”

I won't bore you with all the screaming Christina did or all the hard-nosed crap she threw at her world renown cosmetic surgeon.
I felt sorry for the acclaimed woman who took on this case surgically.

But Dr. Wonderful is not renowned for nothing!
When the surgery was all over and pronounced “ excellent outcome” , this surgeon hired my fragile granddaughter!

Dr. Wonderful said to her,  “I want to hire you because you are highly intelligent and already a certified Emergency Medical Tech, and such an interesting patient, and I have only had one other patient like you and I need to have you educate me as to how and why anxiety is released so suddenly and abundantly by the surgical process. 
It will be such helpful education for me to help me with other patients. I will pay you for your time to visit with me for a couple of hours, talking about your feelings and even what your therapist has talked with you about.”
Christina was so enthused with this honor!
She forgot her anger at Dr. Wonderful as she unloaded (for pay) on this savy savy woman who certainly knows how to pull the net around a freako.
Christina willingly and enthusiastically broke her own confidentiality of therapy and let the whole nine yards hang out.
For money, of course.
Paid.
Paid to educate her world renowned surgeon.

Christina will never sue. The outcome was so good and her anger is all gone.
But should she freak out downstream because milk for her newborn won't come in, or some other oddity crops up, she can never sue Dr. Wonderful.
Oh, she could try to sue.
But Dr. Wonderful has all the 411 on Christina.


It was worth the few bucks and a 2 hour time investment in listening (and recording) .

I had to laugh.

Thanks for cruising by,
Riverwatch









Friday, May 27, 2016

Utter Helplessness



I have a younger brother whose battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) has brought him to a state of utter helplessness.
It has brought him closer to God.
It has brought his loving and devoted wife closer to God.

I grieve for my brother.
He was the person who took me hunting and taught me Silence when he was 14 and I was 15.
I only went hunting so I could gaze at the back of a brother I loved and talk with him.
bbc.com
He only took me hunting because even silent males love an audience (as long as she will shut up.)

He became financially successful enough to have lots of leisure time, and he used that time in hunting and becoming a known and respected wildlife photographer.
Image result for tennessee wildlife photography by Luke Bell
His abundant friends are mostly male and I know they didn't grow deep relationships by talking!
The silence of the hunt is a bonding thing.

He remained an avid outdoorsman up until his muscles wouldn't work well enough to move his legs.
Now, utter helplessness including the ventilator.

Don't we all experience utter helplessness at times?
Seeing the needs around us, don't we sense our own utter lack of ability to meet those needs?

Realizing our utter helplessness, and yet caring deeply, can bring us to a spiritual plane where we call upon God for intercession.
 Intercession becomes powerful as we lean totally upon God.

Submit to fate?  No.

Phillipians 4:6-7   He is near.  Have no anxiety but in everything make your requests known in prayer and petition and thanksgiving.  Then the peace of God, which is beyond our understanding will keep guard over your heart and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.

Submit to fate?  No.  We work for the fulfillment of the good.  
We unfold our case before God through the continuation of prayers and petitions.  Being thus invested, we develop relationship with God and have peace no matter what the outcome.

No street corner prayers, please.
They just don't work as well as the ones we pray secretly.


I appreciate your visit and I hope your day is good.
Riverwatch