Not Nervous At All

The young and beautiful sister of Mother Goose is celebrating a birthday today! My oh my gooseness how the time flies…

Though it was 1964, it seems like yesterday that Dad drove my brother and me to the parking lot of the hospital in Bemidji, Minnesota, pointed up at a window on the fourth floor and said, “That’s where your mother and your new baby sister are. They’ll be home in a few days.” Dana and I looked at that window and then at each other in wonder — as in “I wonder how THAT happened?”

And in fact, it was just yesterday that our dear sister was back in the hospital though not being born this time. She arrived at the Bigfork Valley Hospital bright and early to participate in her very own Radiofrequency Neurotomy procedure.

They got a little snow the day before…

Bunn has been waiting and preparing for this procedure for months. For many years, she has suffered acute and chronic back pain as a result of a crazy life and arthritis. She had tried many of the traditional conservative treatments options to no avail. Physical therapists, chiropractors, and various medical practitioners had all done what they could to help her pain, but the arthritis grew worse and the pain became excruciating. No amount of physical therapy or anti-inflammatory medications could ease her suffering. Would she need back surgery? Was that the only option left to my sister?

Thankfully, the answer was no.

She became acquainted with the very promising work Dr. Paul Olson at Bigfork Valley. She has been diligently working with a biofeedback technician named Marlene who has helped her with relaxation methods and introduced her to the wonders of Alpha-Stim, a very interesting therapy for depression, anxiety, chronic pain and PTSD. Bunn has also benefited from self-hypnosis and finding her “happy place”.

Mother Goose would like to ask her all of her faithful readers, “Where is YOUR happy place? Where do you go in your mind when you need to relax and delve into the peaceful places of your heart?”

Anyway, back to my long and winding story…

So, Bunn was not nervous at all as she walked through the friendly doors of the medical facility yesterday. She was well-informed about the procedure and confident in the good doctor’s skills. She was well-medicated, and easily persuaded of the compassion of the nurses. She was covered in prayer and psychologically armed with this important conviction:

“The needles will slide into your skin as easily as butter.”

Mother Goose is not entirely knowledgeable or educated about the basic procedure of rhizotomy, which uses radio signals to cauterize the nerves bundled around the arthritic joints in the spine. I have only been told several times that the doctor would insert several large needles into her back bone area where the pain from years of trouble have taken their toll on her joints.

By noon, she was released from the hospital and happily reunited with her dear husband, Allen and special pup, Dusty.

She is miraculously pain-free!

And today, we celebrate her birth and the first forty-nine years of her life!

Mother Goose is convinced that this special sister will thoroughly enjoy her next fifty years and beyond now that the pain in her back is gone. She can actually stand up, walk, sit, lie down, cook and LIVE without that chronic and acute pain.

I hope that if you know somebody who suffers from serious back pain (or other types of pain!), you’ll remember this story from Mother Goose and share the good news that there is always hope, always a healthy solution — there can be real healing!

We say “Thank you Jesus” and “Thank You Dr. Olson” for giving Bunn back her life.

The beautiful sister of Mother Goose.

A Goose Muses About Love and Cars

“You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.” ― Oscar Wilde

Mother Goose is amused at the relationship between men and their cars. In the past six weeks, three different men who are dearly loved by Mother Goose have traded in their old rides for newer and better wheels. Mother Goose smiles…

The first sailor son comes home for his thirty-day leave from the U.S. Navy. Within three days of his homecoming he visits the local Carmax dealer and trades in his Mazda Protege for a beautifully bright white and shiny Toyota Camry.

Erik’s New Wheels

Two weeks later, the next sailor son returns home for leave. He’s just experienced a harrowing trip through the snow belt of New York, Ohio and Indiana. After a good night’s rest, he jumps back into the Subaru Impreza for the last time, trading it in for a very stylish Honda Civic.

Adam’s New Wheels

Another two weeks passes quietly. And then up rises Husband Goose, and he flies away to Peru, Illinois to trade in his clunky old Chevy Camaro for a lovely luxury ride — a Cadillac Eldorado.

Mark’s New Wheels

Mother Goose is waiting excitedly for the next two weeks to pass, for surely I am next in line for a new car! I cannot help but wonder what it might be? How could I possibly upgrade from my very practical Goose Mobile?

Men and their cars…

Let it be known here and now: Mother Goose does not love her men for their rugged good looks or their fancy clothes or their fast and shiny cars. Mother Goose loves each of them for their unique and heartfelt songs.

And I’m the only one who can hear them singing…

Happy Birthday to the Auntie of the Goose

Once upon a time, a sweet baby girl was born. She arrived on a cold cold day in 1935 in central Minnesota to the great joy of her parents. Her mother being a literary type named her Ferne, and she grew into her name and the literary prophecy.

Happy birthday to my dear Auntie Ferne.

Ferne is my mother’s big sister. My mother could remember every single event and incident of their childhood…Auntie Ferne has little memory of her childhood because like Mother Goose she kept her nose in her books. When Mom would begin a story of growing up in a railroad town during World War II, Auntie would get a puzzled look on her face. “That really happened?” she would ask.

Mom, Ferne and their brother Warnie, probably taken around 1942.

My mother got so tired of hearing of Ferne’s exquisite behavior, her excellent grades in school and her humble charm. She decided at an early age that she would do everything the opposite of her sister. Like a fish swimming victoriously upstream, Mom achieved her goals and stood out in school as class clown — voted by her graduating class as “Most Likely To Have a Fun Time”.

Because she’s so smart, Auntie graduated early from high school and was immediately drafted into the Minnesota educational system as a full-time teacher. She served for years and years, finally retiring with honors and medals of valor.

Auntie never gets angry or upset. When my mother raged at a personal affront, the whole world heard and cowered. When my auntie is frustrated with a situation, she is likely to fiercely press her thumb down hard on the tabletop. Mom would pound the table with a clenched fist or punish the table with a loud open-palmed slap. Auntie is reserved, quiet and gentle — Mom was always loud and exuberant with the great wide-reaching emotions of her life.

Ferne married at a very young age — a handsome and tall man named Charlie. They moved to Virginia where he served his country as a peace-time soldier and then back to Minneapolis where they raised their family. When his company closed their doors in Minneapolis, the family said “goodbye” to Minnesota and left for the great plains of Oklahoma.

When she retired from teaching, Auntie stayed busy with sewing and quilting projects. Mother Goose is not at all certain why they decided to open a funnel cake business when Uncle Charlie retired. Suddenly Ferne could be found every weekend at the local carnivals and fairs.

When that mysterious phase of their lives ended, they both got their real estate licenses.

From the perspective of Mother Goose, Auntie Ferne has always been the picture of a serving and loving wife and mother. But according to my mother, Ferne never fully bloomed because she’s been forever in her husband’s shadow, just a little too submissive to his career whims and whirls.

Mom always wished her sister would show some backbone, not be such a wilting violet, grab life with a little more gusto and talk back to Uncle Charlie once in awhile.

After their own mother and brother passed away within a week of each other eighteen years ago, Ferne came back to northern Minnesota to stay with Mom for awhile. She stayed and stayed. Mom wanted her to stay forever and never go back to Oklahoma and Charlie and the boring real estate business.

Mom saw a beautiful spark of independence in her sister for the first time and knew that if she returned to her old life, the flame would slowly fade to embers and then go out. Uncle Charlie begged Ferne to come home. He sent her gifts of expensive jewelry and promises. He vowed to never bully her again.

She flew home…

My mom loved her sister more than words can say, and missed her dearly. They talked on the phone several times a week for years and years, but I’m not sure they ever saw each other more than twice after that.

When Mom turned seventy, the Lord called her home, and everybody commented how appropriate that she was wearing the beautifully quilted vest that her sister, my Auntie Ferne, had made for her.

Ferne is a great grandmother several times over now. She’s still selling real estate at the age of 78. She sews lovely baptism banners for the babies in her church and prays for all of us.

She laughed this morning when Mother Goose called her up on the phone and sang “Happy Birthday” to her. She told me lots of stories of her recent adventures, including a Thanksgiving trip where Uncle Charlie had fallen asleep behind the wheel of their car in the mountains of Arkansas. They were traveling to visit their daughter in Atlanta, and they crashed into the back of a semi-trailer truck somewhere in Arkansas.

She’s thankful that they didn’t drive off the mountain road and into eternity…

Here’s what Mother Goose thinks:

It has taken a whole lot of gumption and courage and faith and love for Auntie Ferne to stay with Uncle Charlie all of these years. Marriage is a difficult pathway for some of us, and I do truly admire her commitment and resolve. I consider her one of my lifelong heroes and mentors.

Happy Birthday, Auntie Ferne! I love you, and I wish you many, many more years of good health and great love.

A Happy Panda

The Most Perfect Tree

[Mother Goose is observing Wordless Wednesday...shhhh]

Aunt Charlotte Flies Away

Not too long ago, Mother Goose wrote a story about a family reunion, and shared the sad news that the Matriarch of the family had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer, and it was looking pretty bad for her. Aunt Char fought the fight with much courage and and strength and faith, enduring a very painful and mostly unsuccessful surgery. She was unable to swallow food or liquids for two months and also suffered from breathing issues as the cancer pressed against her bronchial tubes. It was agonizing for her and for those of us who love her.

Early in the morning this past Saturday with all of her dear children gathered around her, Aunt Char flew away to be with the Lord, her long-departed husband, Bob, and her parents and others whom she loved. Rumor has it that she is dancing now on streets of gold in a city where there are no tears, no pain and no suffering. It’s a real place where the light is always shining and the pastures are greener and the waters are more still than any beautiful place here on our planet.

I have been imagining the banquet they’re having, the party they’re throwing, the music they’ll play for the lady who hasn’t been able to eat for two months. All the choicest foods with the best sauces and oh-so-colorful and tasty! Imagine the chocolate in heaven! I’m thinking about the finest vintage of the fruit of the vine, and how it will be so sweet to her palate.

Aunt Char and her niece, Suzanne, remembering how she was the flower girl in Charlotte and Bob’s wedding fifty-five years ago.

We will miss you terribly, Aunt Char — you’re a wonderful and amazing woman, such a good momma and friend to many, many many. We’ll see you in the morning…

There’s a Toxophilite in My Heart!

Without a question, you are asking yourself, “Mother Goose, are you OK? Is there something I can do? How can I pray for you?”

My dear and gentle readers, have no fear for Mother Goose — all is well.

I have done my American civic duty this morning; I have eaten my chicken vegetable soup for lunch; I have taken my dog for her morning walk.

And yet, I must confess — there is a toxophilite in my heart. It surely sounds serious, doesn’t it? It sounds chronic. It sounds, well…downright TOXIC. But it’s not bad at all.

Simply put, a toxophilite is one who adores the sport of archery! The toxophilite in my heart is named AnnaRose — she’s a nine-year old with a passion for the bow and arrow. And she’s really really good at it! This fall has been her first experience with archery — the teacher spent the first two sessions instructing these kiddos on the basics of stance, posture, safety and shooting at a target.

Look! There’s a young toxophilite now!

By the third week, the children were ready for balloons! Popping balloons became an instant Olympic sport at the Archery range! And, this proud goose is happily honking that my own daughter has successfully popped every single balloon attached to her target. The final class was a super-terrific day — four times up to shoot, four balloons bit the dust!

Pretty toxo-stupendous, if you ask Mother Goose. Honk! Honk!

“Sleep is Over-rated,” said the Goose

I’m sure you remember that old saying, “She slept like a baby.” Mother Goose never understood that phrase, because none of her babies ever slept. Whilst most of my friends had their newborns trained to sleep through the night by nine days out of the womb, none of the babies of Mother Goose slept through the night until they were about nine years old.

In our family, sleep in an unnecessary commodity. Perhaps a luxury we could never afford. Maybe just plain over-rated.

So our babies would rather hang out with Mother Goose and snuggle in the rocking chair and drink sweet milkie than go to sleep in their beds. And to this very day, Mother Goose still does not sleep much at night. I doze deeply between 9 p.m. and midnight — after midnight, it’s mostly just a series of naps until the alarm gently nudges me at 5:30 or the dog cries to go outside or the birdies sing their pre-dawn finch reveille.

Of course, the husband of Mother Goose sleeps VERY well. He spends the night in a many-hued land of dreams — he alternates between snoring and chuckling in his sleep. We sleep at opposite ends of the bed to accommodate my claustrophobia and need for fresh nightly air. His toes wiggle just twelve inches from the face of Mother Goose, whilst my large rubbery goose feet stretch to infinity and beyond in our “California King-sized bed”. Sometimes just having some air and a nice stretch is all I need — who really needs sleep anyway…

To each his own, as my dear mother would say…

Perhaps it is a case of screwy genetics. Mom never slept much at night either — she did some of her best baking between the hours of 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. We’d often awake to the aroma of bread, steaming berry pies and chocolate cakes — is there anything better to sniff from the comfort of your warm cozy bed?

The dad of the goose also sleeps very lightly during the night. Of course, he’s awake and worried about stuff, and not in the kitchen with an apron on.

The brother of the goose seems to be following the same path — watching a good movie in the middle of the night with his pup is good family time for them. He’s just a small little pup who loves to cuddle with his pa and ma, just like a little baby really.

Snuggle time…

The sister of Mother Goose has had such trouble sleeping that she recently made a reservation at a sleep clinic to try to determine the reason for her nightly insomnia. They hooked her up to so many monitors with wires and suction cups. They placed a face mask over her nose and mouth. They told her “good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and then left the room and watched her toss back and forth for hours. They would not allow her to get up and drink a cup of coffee to relax — they refused her a midnight smoke break. Apparently, it was a very tiring experience for her…

Are you relaxed and comfortable yet, Bunn?

Last night, Mother Goose spent hours considering the clouds moving past the moon — seen through my sky-light window, the moon travels at a quick pace of two inches per hour. I listened as police sirens screamed through the still night air, praying for the people in need of a cop and an ambulance. I pondered the cost of my daughter’s schooling to acquire her Master’s Degree at the University of Illinois at Chicago. I tried to figure out Aunt Charlotte getting thyroid cancer and her inability to swallow or breathe and wondered how her night was going… I prayed for the safety of my sailor sons in New York. I begged God’s provision to the people who’ve lost so much in the hurricane. I remembered all the other people who were awake at such an ungodly hour of the day, and wished them a good night.

And as I was gently going off to slumberland, the alarm on my phone sang me a happy song announcing that it was morning at last.

And that’s [yawn....] why Mother Goose [yawn....] thinks that sleep is [yawn....] so over-rated.

A Family Reunited

Families are very special. They come together through the marriage of two young loves, they grow and change, they drift apart and then come running back together. Recently we had the great joy of attending two family reunions in one weekend. On Saturday, we caught up with the maternal side of Husband Goose’s family. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to prove it….But the good news is that they get together every year at this time, and so we will be seeing them again in less than twelve months.

The very next day we were reunited with the paternal side of Husband Goose’s family. Again, a wonderfully fun time and especially special because these cousins haven’t had a reunion in more than ten years! You might be able to spot Mother Goose in this picture as she looks completely different from the rest of the family.

The Cramers

Another reason I post this story today is to ask for your prayers for Aunt Charlotte, the beautiful 70-something lady in the center of the picture. Since this picture was taken ten days ago, Aunt Char has been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of thyroid cancer.

Aunt Char is on the left, and sister Suzanne is on the right. Suzanne was the flower girl for Aunt Charlotte’s wedding fifty three years ago. They are both still as beautiful as on that day long ago.

Friends, we are praying for a miracle. This is looking very serious from any sort of a treatment standpoint. We just really need a miracle for Aunt Char and the family. Will you please pray with us?

With love, Mother Goose

The Game of Bags

Mother Goose has been such a busy goose lately. Picking up my quill and ink today, I will spend a few minutes expounding on The Game of Bags. I have never played the game, but I am a careful observer. My first thought is this: Bozo Buckets for grown-ups, and that’s OK. I realize that some people compare The Game of Bags to The Game of Horseshoes, but I would tend to disagree. Horseshoes are made of iron which is very heavy. Beanbags are soft. If you ever get hit with one or the other, you would immediately have a different sensation. Please enjoy these photos of Jessi and Eric…

Please note the good extension — all the way from Eric’s fingertips to the heel of his right foot — a nice straight line.

Although she has great concentration, unfortunately Jessi’s extension is not quite in line.

I think that Jessi has a good stance in this shot — knees bent and good focus.

Again, we see the right arm swinging in. Remember, follow through on The Game of Bags is very important.

I think the determined smile on this picture shows much courage in The Game of Bags.

Again, Eric demonstrates good extension at the time of bag release. Also, please note the drama in the left hand. I believe this might be the secret to his success…

There are some people who play The Game of Bags with a beer in their left hand. Of course, none of the children of Mother Goose would consider this strategy as it would obviously impair their balance and stability.

Mother Goose will not disclose the winner of this particular match in The Game of Bags. Suffice to say that technique won out over concentration, focus and determination…

Bozo would be proud!