Theirs was, and still is, a love match.
She has been my friend for so long that I cannot remember when we first met. I kept her children after school while she worked. We belonged to a women’s group that met for dinner once a month. And when she met James, we were given the great pleasure of seeing their love spring into being. Their children were grown and the scars from their first painful marriages were healed over. It was timing made in heaven.
James, whose wardrobe consisted of polyester, soon found himself wearing cotton and khakis. Cannan floated six inches off the ground lifted by his steady warming love. The sight of them together would make you smile and believe again in happy ever afters. Seasoned by the pain they each had endured, they rejoiced in one another and we celebrated with them.
Their wedding was perfect. Bridesmaids (none of them maids in a long time) wore dresses made specially for the occasion from a fresh floral chintz... curtain fabric. The rest of us were dressed in our best wedding finery and we all were beautiful, wrapped in joy and thanksgiving for James and Cannan. For twenty five years they have lived in loving amity, meeting each challenge with grace and good humor.
It was our great good fortune when they retired near us in Black Mountain. We resumed our custom of celebrating our shared wedding anniversary, July 12. Our friendship never missed a beat. Dinner dates, the theater, potluck meals, Derby parties, farm work... It was a lovely golden benediction, an affirmation of our friendship through the years. And then...
James began to struggle with what were thought to be small strokes. No treatment seemed to help. After a long, confusing time filled with tests and more tests, they discovered he had Alzheimer’s. It was a painful, scary time for them and for all those who loved them. A miracle was on the way, a miracle that did not heal the Alzheimer’s but transformed it into a teaching moment.
Cannan as a PollyAnna makes me look like a piker. She can find redemption in every sow’s ear that comes her way. It might be difficult but she keeps working with it until a silk purse emerges. She and James decided to share openly and honestly with everyone their journey through this next stage in their marriage. No pretense, no pretending, no shying away from the harsh realities... A path was chosen that focused on the gift of the present, the making of new memories and taking advantage of all the help that was available to them from doctors, Memory Care Clinic, Alzheimer support groups and other therapists. Once again, Cannan and James have given us a gift, a living example of loving through sickness and health, a love that grows to meet the need, a love that in its openness and transparency warms us all and we smile still when we see them.
I am sending a video James and Cannan did for the Memory Care Clinic here. James, a peacher and professor, and Cannan, a social worker, have taken this opportunity to share their story in the hope that it might be helpful. Keep the Kleenex handy. This love
story is for real.
To ensure delivery, add no-reply@vimeo.com to your address book.
Someone shared this with you: http://vimeo.com/58582155
Cannan & James' Story
http://vimeo.com/58582155
They asked us not to sugarcoat the realities so here it is, straight from our hearts and our experiences. Still want to watch it with you sometime. Thanks for being with us on this journey. Love, Cannan
About this video
"Cannan and James Hyde share their story of living with dementia. James, diagnosed with early stage Alzheimer's disease, and his wife, Cannan, tell how they are living with the challenges of the diagnosis and the unexpected turns it has presented in their lives."
Forward this email to your friends and family so that they can watch the video too.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Farm wisdom for Lent...
Snow is falling this morning at Sabbath Rest Farm. There has not been much snow this winter so I am rejoicing in the bright white soft silence. Church is called off in weather like this so I am settling down into a comforting sabbath rest for body and soul. Time to think...time to let the stirred up snow globe self float down to rest surrounded by beauty.
I am reminded of the wisdom of farmers in my family as I sit here in front of the fire this morning. There were a few sacred laws in my farm family that were understood as necessary and right. All farmers were judged by their adherence to and practice of these rules.
Number one... All animals in your care must be fed and checked before you can rest easily. In the mornings, feed your cows, horses, chickens, cats and dogs early and generously. In the afternoons, feed again making sure all have what they need for good health. If circumstances dictate, feed them before you feed yourself.
Number two... Build strong fences and repair them as they break. Five lines of barbed wire... one on top, one down low with three strands equally spaced in-between, stretched tightly on wooden posts with solid bracing... will keep cows from sticking their heads under the wire and popping it loose. Keep fence lines clean of weeds and as wire rusts or breaks, repair the small breaks to prevent trouble. Even with good fences, sometimes cows will still make a break for it just because they believe the grass is greener on the other side.
Number three... Take pleasure in the work you do on the farm and the beauty of the land around you. Sometimes the work is onerous, boring and physically demanding but even in the hardest work, gratitude and joy can be found. Throwing hay bales on the trailer, loading them in the barn, hot and sweaty, laughing at the mistakes, drinking water greedily, smelling the sweet dry grass, feeling the accomplishment of laying up provisions for your animals in the cold winter...
Number four... Be grateful for the gift of living on a farm. Not everyone gets to live on land they love, be good stewards of the earth, enjoy room to spread out body and soul, to breathe clean air, see sunsets and sunrises, starry nights, hear the night noises as animals move through the darkness that surrounds us, watch the passing of the seasons reminding me I am a creature, too.
These rules will stand me in good stead for Lent, I think. In tending to others, I am reminded that the Lenten journey is best done in community, community that holds me accountable in loving presence. Keeping my fences tended, my boundaries in good order, will keep me from roaming without purpose, will keep me focused on the work I need to do within myself with God’s help. And as I travel the muddy roads through Lent, I must remember to lift up my eyes to the hills that remind me of the Source, the Loving One who has gifted me with life and laughter and death and tears and sorrow, life that runs like a mountain river tumbling over rocks in abandon as it rushes to its final destination. I am grateful beyond measure for another Lenten season, time to remember, reconsider, and renew. Help me to be a good farmer this time around, Dear One, as I travel through this dark time. Amen.
I am reminded of the wisdom of farmers in my family as I sit here in front of the fire this morning. There were a few sacred laws in my farm family that were understood as necessary and right. All farmers were judged by their adherence to and practice of these rules.
Number one... All animals in your care must be fed and checked before you can rest easily. In the mornings, feed your cows, horses, chickens, cats and dogs early and generously. In the afternoons, feed again making sure all have what they need for good health. If circumstances dictate, feed them before you feed yourself.
Number two... Build strong fences and repair them as they break. Five lines of barbed wire... one on top, one down low with three strands equally spaced in-between, stretched tightly on wooden posts with solid bracing... will keep cows from sticking their heads under the wire and popping it loose. Keep fence lines clean of weeds and as wire rusts or breaks, repair the small breaks to prevent trouble. Even with good fences, sometimes cows will still make a break for it just because they believe the grass is greener on the other side.
Number three... Take pleasure in the work you do on the farm and the beauty of the land around you. Sometimes the work is onerous, boring and physically demanding but even in the hardest work, gratitude and joy can be found. Throwing hay bales on the trailer, loading them in the barn, hot and sweaty, laughing at the mistakes, drinking water greedily, smelling the sweet dry grass, feeling the accomplishment of laying up provisions for your animals in the cold winter...
Number four... Be grateful for the gift of living on a farm. Not everyone gets to live on land they love, be good stewards of the earth, enjoy room to spread out body and soul, to breathe clean air, see sunsets and sunrises, starry nights, hear the night noises as animals move through the darkness that surrounds us, watch the passing of the seasons reminding me I am a creature, too.
These rules will stand me in good stead for Lent, I think. In tending to others, I am reminded that the Lenten journey is best done in community, community that holds me accountable in loving presence. Keeping my fences tended, my boundaries in good order, will keep me from roaming without purpose, will keep me focused on the work I need to do within myself with God’s help. And as I travel the muddy roads through Lent, I must remember to lift up my eyes to the hills that remind me of the Source, the Loving One who has gifted me with life and laughter and death and tears and sorrow, life that runs like a mountain river tumbling over rocks in abandon as it rushes to its final destination. I am grateful beyond measure for another Lenten season, time to remember, reconsider, and renew. Help me to be a good farmer this time around, Dear One, as I travel through this dark time. Amen.
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