AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL LETTER:  Ruth Miller

 (as written to my instructor, Roberta Roesch, who has now departed this world,
 for an online writing class so she would know where her students "came from")

              Let me introduce myself and bare my literary soul as well  . . .  Ruth Miller . . .  lover, wife, mother, teacher, legal secretary, court reporter transcriptionist, medical transcriptionist, musician, caretaker, poet, talker, talker and talker.  My life started on a hot day in July (years ago!), after being delivered unexpectedly at home. I came into this world talking and I have been talking at breakneck speed since that first rudely placed swat on my hind end, when I made my initial debut into this world!  I was the fifth of seven children, but two predeceased me and this put me smack dab in the middle . . . Uh! . . . a middle child!  My dad was a CPA and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. 

                 I remember as a small child I would weave a tale of untold nonsense to anyone that would listen and it was such fun.  Maybe part of that was my “I need attention” mechanism and maybe it was just me needing to express myself in the only form I knew at the time, verbal.  I was never at a loss for words, even as a child.

Many days in elementary school, I was solidly placed in the corner for “talking”.  What was there about me that made my jaws flip-flop so much?  I don’t have the answer to that question, but I know God created every individual to pursue certain desires in life and I guess he just automatically stamped me “proliferative talker” for whatever reason He had in mind.  Now don’t get me wrong . . . I am not questioning God’s plans for me at all, but it would help if I could see into the future and get this all figured out.

Perhaps another reason I was a talker is my position in the family.  I was a notorious “middle child” and I had to preserve my sanity and self-preservation from my older brother and sister and my younger brother and sister.  So what did I do?  I would talk them to death.  I loved it, and I am sure if my parents would have let them, they would have purchased stock in a tape factory.

Reading was another favorite of mine too.  I figured reading and talking went hand in hand, at least it did with me.  I remember in the third grade . . . we were all being called on to stand and read out loud from our geography book.  Now this was right up my alley because I loved to read.  It made me want to let everyone in class know that me, a nobody little country girl, was able to read out loud well and had the confidence in my ability to do so . . .  and I have no doubt I was a little show-off with this as well.  When it came my turn to read, I stood straight up, held my book per the teacher’s standards and read.  To my surprise, my paragraph had this thousand dollar word in it . . . a country called “Tanganyika”.  I want you to know I read that thousand-dollar word right the first time and did not miss a beat in my flow of speech.  If you don’t think I was beaming when I finished . . . we could have turned off the lights in the whole school and my beaming would have lit the place up!  My teacher was pretty proud of me that day too.

As for reading, we were not an affluent family and sometimes reading material was hard to come by, but when available, I absorbed it like a sponge.  I am certain my comprehension rate was not equivalent to my absorption rate, but it didn’t matter to me.  I wanted to read.  Words fascinated me.

When I was still a senior in high school, my English teacher taught a section on writing.  I was too busy with extracurricular activities, boys included, at the time to get too involved in additional writing, or so I thought.  Nevertheless, she gave us a book with some poems and stories to review . . . I suppose she wanted us to be open to the different writing styles.  Thumbing through the pages, I spotted this one poem on autumn leaves that really caught my eye . . . it had so many descriptive words in it . . . and I was hooked!  I think that poem forever changed my life.  I wanted to paint the world as a dictionary . . . I wanted to set it on fire with words.  It was at this point in my life that I knew I wanted to write.

Life went as usual in large families with all of the normal sibling rivalry, although I am not quite sure about the “normal” part.  We were all very competitive and sometimes to a fault, and we ALL got into trouble for this.  We would instigate trouble for each other on a daily basis.  I marvel now at my parents and wonder why they did not have us sold into slavery or something similar for all the grief we must have given them during this time of our life. But even with all that menacing sibling rivalry, we managed to make it to our teenage years and into adulthood, all in one piece, and turned out to be decent members of society after all.  Funny how that happened!

The normalcy-of-life sequence continued to unfold . . . graduation, a year of college, and then I married my high school sweetheart.  I worked as a legal secretary for years and then dabbled in court reporter transcription.  This was fun job for me until I had to transcribe a series of hearings in preparation for the upcoming trial . . . and it had to be done the week of Thanksgiving!   Have you ever tried eating turkey dinner while typing a trial transcript?  It can be done but I don’t recommend it.  I finished my trial transcript on time but decided this was not my “cup of tea” after all, and shortly thereafter I went into the medical field as a medical secretary/medical transcriptionist.

Of course the real fun began with starting a family.  We were blessed with a son and a daughter and were very happy in our present life situation.  My husband was a self-made electronics genius to me . . . he had all the scientific genes for math, physics, chemistry, and he just about taught the electronics/physics section in his high school class . . . my genes were language, music, art, reading and fun.  Quite a pair, eh?  We complemented each other and this also showed up in our children.  They were both gifted individuals and really kept us on our toes.  There were many times they would ask me about a specific word and I would tell them that if they looked it up in the dictionary,  they would remember it better . . sometimes I knew the word and sometimes I didn’t, but I sure wasn’t going to let them know that!  I really wanted to have four children but I guess the good Lord knew what He was doing when He gave me only these two as they were a real handful.  Sibling rivalry?  Oh yes, that too.

There were a few times with my children’s writings throughout school that I would “tamper” with their word usage . . . I just wanted to broaden and excite the text to a higher plane, I guess.  We would joke about that off and on and they knew I just couldn’t keep my hands off their work from time to time.

Throughout the past 25 years, I have also doubled as a caretaker to my Aunt June who came to live with us on a permanent basis in 1986.  She was the baby in her family and had been living with her sister Cecelia (who was her only remaining family member and who had remained unmarried to care for June) until Cecelia died from ovarian cancer.  June was an 8-year-old, 89-year-old at the time of her death in May of 2010.  She was mildly retarded with the mentality of a first grader, was dyslexic, and had both sight and hearing deficiencies in addidtion ro progressive Alzheimer's Disease which was confirmed via brain biopsy at her death..  And, as the general rule of thumb goes, it seems that in every family, there is one person who gets the golden egg (job of caregiver) and guess what?  I was the one in my family to be so honored. I quickly learned to make lemonade out of most of my “lemons” in life too.  In fact, my kids call our home “Miller Manor” and I keep telling them there is no more room at the inn! 

I had retired from active employment about 1999 because June had become a wanderer around the house at night. I was finding it most difficult to work after being up checking on her and not getting much sleep.  She did attend an adult daycare during the daytime and I guess when wandering around our home at night, she would walk right out the front door and look for the van to pick her up.  When she saw it was pitch black outside, she would come back inside and go back to her room.  Aunt June had progressed to the point where we finally had to place her in an ALF (assisted living facility) in September of 2008. She had become very belligerent and I could see on the horizon the potential for her becoming combative; I knew in my heart the time had come to place her in a good home.

As if my life was not already an upstairs/downstairs staircase in continuous motion, my mother-in-law came to live with us in 2003, on a permanent basis, after a severe and traumatic illness.  She too was  elderly, was six months older than June., had no short-term memory, used oxygen at night, walker to get around, nebulizer treatments several times a day and a medical regimen that would choke an elephant.  

Life continued its fleeting passage of time at about the speed of Mach II and now I am looking at retirement . . . ah, where did all that time go?  All I know is that I now have five grandchildren with the oldest currently a senior in college!  I can’t believe she will be graduating from college in May of the coming year!!  Then, in order to meet her career goals, she will have still two more years of schooling to become a cardiopulmonary perfusionist.  As she said to me once, 'I am the one between you and death as I will be working the heart/lung machine whiloe you are in cardiac surgery."  That is a tad more responsibility than I want but she seems to thrive on this.  I told her to go for it with a gusto!  She was my little skinny, scrawny, pig-tailed headed kid in shorts and tennis shoes that always loved to come to Florida to see her grandma.  Now she has matured into an intelligent and beautiful petite young lady.  Time has a way of telling one to get on the move and do what you want to do before it is too late!  And I think I will do just that!

Most of my current writings are in the form of poetry which I started writing around the 1980s or so, but these were very sporadic and rather short.  However, about 2005, I started writing not only more poetry, but a more in-depth form of poetry.  While most of my current poetry is done as an encouragement to ones who have lost loved ones, there are other poems that do not relate to tragedy or death.  I have been asked on several occasions to write a poem for a family whom I have never met and I find myself doing this with great joy.  It is a comfort to me if I can lighten someone’s load through words. 

Through this opportunity, which has opened its doors to me with your institution, I hope to be able to broaden my writing ability and become a good writer.  I don’t know at this point, specifically, which lane in the writing field I want to travel, but I like to write on the more humorous side of life.  I also like to read medical and science fiction . . . Dean Koontz, Stephen Coonts, (Robin) Cook, Ben Coes, Gayle Foreman, Dan Brown, Isaac Asimov. S.J. Watson, James Patterson, Amanda Hocking and the like are my favorite authors.  I used to like Stephen King until he got too far out for me!   In retrospect, I feel this is something I have always wanted to do, but life itself simply got in the way.  I am looking forward to learning the successful techniques which you have to offer and I am especially excited about the one-on-one instructional relationship.  

Written by Ruth Miller

Coyright - 10/5/07*

*Text has been updated to current time frame.

THOUGHTS OF A RAVAGED MIND

 (looking through the mind and thoughts of my Aunt June at the time when

 her Alzheimer’s disease was full blown and immediately prior to her death)

       My journey starts around Thanksgiving of 2009 . . . this was when I really began to notice something was happening to me, but I am at a loss to know exactly what is happening.  It is as if my thoughts are getting jumbled when I try to talk.  I can’t seem to put a simple thought into a simple sentence.  Thoughts just do not come out the way I thought I had them organized in my mind . . . it is as if something was twisting them askew in the seconds I thought a thought and the time I uttered it.  This was something new to me and it was just a little scary.  I am not a real talker anyway, but now, I can’t seem to talk even in a normal manner . . . maybe I need a diversion of sorts to give me a break from trying to sort this out.

       I know . . . I will go into my room and hunt for my Word Search puzzle book.  I know how to do these and it is such a comfort to me.  It helps me pass the time in an enjoyable manner.  I love doing these puzzles and I am really good at completing them!  I always have plenty of pencils and puzzle books available to me.  Someone provides these for me but I cannot remember who now.

       Oh yes, here is a puzzle . . . What?  This one is not finished!  When did I start this and why didn’t I finish it? I ALWAYS finish my puzzles!  Someone else has been in my room and is doing my puzzles!  The next thing I know, my books will come up missing!  I think I will just start a brand new puzzle.  Wow! I see one word already!  Circle, circle, circle.  One word found!  But, wait a minute here . . . where are the rest of the words . . . surely they did not make an error when they printed this out?  Where are the words, words, words!  I cannot find words, words, words to circle, circle, circle.   Oh this is getting me frustrated.  Maybe I need to do something else.  Maybe I am just tired today and I will go to bed early and tomorrow will be a better day. 

       Several months have now passed and I feel like I am loosely attached to my world.  I am in a different place with a lot of people coming and going.  Where am I? What is this place?  Oh, I think, think, think . . . I am in a hospital.  I am not feeling well either.  I can hardly breathe!  I am scared!  I am so tired and I have this thing in my nose with cool air!  There is a tight cuff on one arm and something else on my finger.  There is something in my other arm and it stings!  What are they doing to me? I cough and cough and cough . . . will I ever stop coughing? I can’t get a breath between coughs. People are hovering over me doing this and that.  A man is standing there talking with the women who turn to ask me questions and I can only just look at them . . . it is as if they are talking to me in a foreign language.  I can’t talk understand a thing they are saying to answer back.

       All of a sudden, I just close my eyes.  I find myself sliding softly but quickly into a slow, dark slumber.  I feel like I am going deeper and deeper into an unknown part of the earth . . . such stillness, such darkness, a depth of the unknown.  I see no one else so I must be by myself but I am not afraid.  This is so quiet, so calm and so utterly peaceful.  It is as if I am comforted somehow in my plight.  I have never been to this place and I wonder if this is a dream.  I feel a presence all around me.  I begin to see a far away speck of light, beautiful light.  Oh, how can this be? 

       All of a sudden I am awake and am jolted back to my present hospital bed.  Everyone seems to be watching me closely and there are more people in my room.  It is as if everyone has a specific job to do but they are all watching me as they do their job.  I wish I were out of here.  My body convulses with coughing jags and I try to get my breath.  They give me something to make me rest now.  Most of the people have finished their work and leave the room; one of them is pushing a cart with all kind of gadgets on it, but now, everyone is leaving so I guess the party is over, but there is always someone in the room with me.

       After four or five days at this place, which seems like forever, I finally get to the point where my coughing gets better and I feel better too.  I am allowed up a little but I have a new problem now.  I cannot seem to swallow any more.  I have to eat mashed food and they put this stuff in it to make it thick.  Although it goes down rather well, it is just not the same.  They have to feed me too and they do it very slowly . . . can’t they realize I am hungry?  I can’t fool with the piddling stuff, I want some real food!  This mashed stuff is NOT for me!

       Now, a week later, I am feeling much better . . . I can breathe and my coughing spasms have almost gone elsewhere.  But I am again at a different place.  It seems I do remember a ride recently in a van in a wheelchair, now that I try to think . . . I see people in wheelchairs everywhere, some with crutches and some walking with other people.  This is a very large place and the people are nice.

       The nurse comes in and says I have a visitor but I do not know who she is, although I sometimes think I have seen her before and probably should know her.  Yes, she does seem somewhat familiar to me.  She smiles at me and holds my hand.  She tells me things that I guess are supposed to be funny as she laughs.  I laugh because she laughs.  She stays for a while but then she has to go elsewhere and waves goodbye to me.  I smile at her with my silly grin.

       I am still having trouble talking so people understand me and even if I scream, it doesn’t seem to help.  When I want something or need something, I want it and I want it right then.  Who are people to not come to me now!  I will tell them if they don’t come when I call them, I will pee in my pants and that will get their attention! And you know what? I did just that one day and it worked great.  Someone was right there.  I know I can do this now and get their attention!  This will work for sure!

       I am not supposed to get my own drinks either but I am thirsty.  I guess they think I can’t swallow liquid but I can and I will show them.  Oh, wait a minute  . . . I see a paper cup in the bathroom.  There is no one else around to stop me either except there is a nurse just outside the door.  I think I will sneak into the bathroom and get a cup of water.  I am so thirsty!  The water is slowly filling the cup and I can’t wait to taste some cool water.  Ah, ah, gulp . . . cough, sputter, cough, Cough, COUGH! . . . and here is that pesky nurse taking my water away from me. I blame her . . . I think she is the reason I am coughing!  She took my cup away just as I was enjoying a drink and now I am coughing a lot more.  All I wanted was a good slug of water!  She is holding my cup now and telling me something but I cannot figure out what she is saying to me.  She is turning her head back and forth as if telling me NO, No, no.  I stop coughing but she is taking me somewhere, leading me with her hand.  I get to this strange area and there are machines all around me.  Then I see a large sign that says X-RAY . . . what does that mean?  Next thing I know they are taking a picture of my chest and I cough some more.  I was so glad when they were finished as I don’t like those machines.  My nurse again takes my hand and leads me back to my room.  What a commotion all because I wanted a drink.

       The days go by and I can’t keep up with them.  I look out my window and see the green lawn and the flowers blooming.  They are so pretty . . . I love flowers in bloom.  I soon began to further realize that I didn’t know other people I probably should know. I was told I had a visitor again today and they would bring her in.  She sat down beside my bed but I had no clue who this person was.  It is like my memory is an empty gray slate . . . absolutely nothing there!  She would talk to me but it was like there was an invisible wall between us as I could not understand her language!  How frustrating.  I wanted to tell her I wanted out of this place and now!  But I could not figure out how to say this and then I wasn’t even sure if she could get me out anyway, so I just sat there and smiled.  I noticed I could no longer do simple things like I used to do.  I can’t dress myself right, I get my shoes on the wrong feet and I don’t know what is going on if I watch TV.  Life has seemed to slam me in a very slow-mode realm.

       People were very nice to me most of the time.  They were always there to help with anything I needed.  But there was something wrong.  I could no longer seem to concentrate, I couldn’t do my word search puzzles either as the letters were all like a mixed grid and I could not find the words like I used to.  Oh well, maybe another day will be better.  Maybe after a few more days have gone by, things will all clear up and I will be back to my normal self again.

       Today, the lady who came to see me is back and is packing my things in a box.  What on earth is she doing that for?  Or maybe I am going to get out of this place finally.  She is talking to me but it is not coming through.  Finally, she takes the boxes somewhere and then comes back to get me.  She leads me outside and I see the sun shining and the bright blue clouds in the sky. I faintly hear a bird singing somewhere far off as I follow her footsteps. We are going to her car and there are my boxes of clothes and other items in her back seat.  She helps me get into the front seat and gently places this strap across my chest.  I feel like I am cemented to the seat but I seem to remember this from somewhere before too, so I guess it is not a bad thing.  I look back while she drives us away from that place!  Wow! I think to myself, what a beautiful day it will be now that I am out of there.

       We drive for a little while and then she comes up to yet another building, but this one seems more familiar to me.  It seems that it has been so long ago that I was here.  Oh yes . . . and there is the dog I loved so much but it seems like it was so long ago.  Now what was his name?  Henry?  Harry? Harvey?  Oh why can’t I remember!  And there is the lady that takes care of the dog . . . he follows her everywhere too.  She is nice and I should know her . . . it is coming back to me in little segments, little by little.  I do know her from somewhere in the past.

       This lady takes me to a room . . . this must be my place as some of these things are so familiar and I see a stack of puzzle books on my dresser.  I sense I should really know this place but all I remember is being here at some point in my past.  My memory has a lot of blank patches of thought and some stay with me while others are like a vapor wafting on the breeze.

       The lady that brought me here brings in my boxes and starts putting things away.  I know I should know her but I just can’t jog my memory enough.  She finally gets everything put up and talks to me.  I just smile back with my silly little grin I have gotten used to using on people.  She stays a little longer and then leaves me to my room.

       That night when it is time to go to bed, a nurse comes in and puts these awful diapers on me!  What does she think I am?  A big baby?  Why do I need these things?  I am not going to wear these and I shake my head at her.  She shakes her head back at me and continues to try to put them on me.  I fight her back.  I scream NO, NO, NO at her.  Finally she leaves me alone.  Sometime later, she comes back in with some large special thick panties.  Now these I will wear.  I let her put them on me this time without a fight.  She just smiles at me and she puts me to bed for the night.

       The next morning, I am so slow to get up and out of bed.  I still seem to be so tired and I just had a full night of sleep.  I can’t think either so I just lay back and stare at the ceiling.  Two ladies come in and help me get up and get dressed.  They were looking in my closet to see what to put on I guess and I point to my red shirt.  They get it out and put it on me.  Red, red, red.  That is all I can think about.  Red, red, red.  That is all I can say.   Red, red, red.  My mind is all jumbled up!  Red, red, red.  Those are the only words that will come out.  Red, red, red.  I hear myself saying over and over again, red, red, red.  Well, it is my favorite color so why not say it?  Red, red, red.  Red, red, red.  And for some reason, this is all that will come out and I say this over and over and over.  My mind is in a red mood today I guess!

       Yesterday it was red, red, red.  But today I am having twins!  I cry out in pain and the nurse comes running in.  I try to tell her I am having twins and she seems to understand . . . but she pulls the covers off of me and shows me my flat tummy.  She tells me my twins have already been born and they are resting quietly in the nursery and that I should rest now as well.  I feel so much better and I doze off to sleep.

       I wake up the next morning and I see blue, blue, blue.  I like blue too.  I can only think of blue, blue, blue.  Why can’t I say anything but blue, blue, blue?  Is my mind stuck in the blue groove today?  Blue, blue, blue.  Everything is blue, blue, blue.

       I am no longer hungry either, although the ladies try to feed me, but I say, no, no, no.  I just am not in an eating mood, so they should leave me alone.  I see others at the table eating and talking but I don’t want anything to do with them. 
       I can’t get around very well by myself anymore now so I have my own wheelchair.  It gets me where I need to be even though I don’t like being in it. My days are pretty simple now . . . I have to have help with nearly everything.  I find my strength is leaving me.  Even getting me up and into the wheelchair is sometimes a hefty chore and I would just rather lie in bed.  I am so tired.  I do not want to talk and I do not want to do anything that makes me have to move my body.

       A week has passed again.  I am still so very, very tired.  I have my own special nurses now that stay with me all the time.  One stays all night and another stays during the daytime.  They dress me and keep me cool, comfortable and clean.  They will motion to me with some food as if asking me if I want to eat and I tell them no, no, no, and they will take it away. They try to get me to drink something but I don’t want it and put my hands out in front of me to keep them from getting any closer.   They see that I appear to still be comfortable and they seem to understand.  They keep me looking fresh and keep my bed from being all wrinkled or soiled if I should have an accident.  They are like angels to me . . . always there if I cry out.  If I am getting upset or get agitated, they will calm me.  If I hurt, they will give me some drops that stop the hurt and I sleep again.  My days pass slowly now and seem all the same day, one after the other.  I sometimes wonder if my world has slowed to such an extent that this is just one day, my final day, and it is so long to get all of me in order.   I am so tired, so tired, so tired.  I feel I need to go to sleep but am afraid I will not wake up, but slowly sink into eternity.

       However, on this evening, I see a man and a woman come into the room.  I have a hard time opening my eyes as they just want to stay shut most of the time.  I should know this couple.  I have seen them a lot, but who are they?  Why are they here?  What do they want with me?  Can’t they see I am tired?  Although I want to sleep, I am curious about them too.  They talk with the nurse for a while and then they come over to my bed.  They are talking to me and I hear them but it comes out all garbled mostly, although sometimes, I get bits and pieces of what they are saying.  I try to open my eyes and give them that silly little smile of mine thinking that will get us both on a good footing.   But all I hear is just some mumbling coming from me . . . maybe they will understand what I am trying to say. 

       The man returns to a chair in the room and sits down.  The woman remains at my bedside . . . she takes my hand in her hand which is so warm and soft.  She is looking at me now.  She is saying something about going . . . going somewhere . . . going away . . . going on a beautiful trip. And for some reason, I am able to understand all of what she is saying.   I look at her a moment and try to wonder what trip am I supposed to be taking.  She tells me that she and the man with her have given me permission to go and softly says to me . . . “when you go to sleep tonight, I want you to let go.  I want you to be so relaxed that you will want to go wherever your dreams take you.  I want you to be at peace and rest.”  I continue to hear her say to me . . . “You will travel by yourself as we won’t be able to come with you at this time, but you will NEVER be alone.  You will be surrounded with love and a sense of someone being there with you as you continue your journey.  It will be the most different kind of trip you have ever taken but in the end, it will be even more beautiful that you could ever imagine, even in your wildest imagination!”  I am thinking, where can I be going?  Then I hear a familiar name, Cecelia.  Oh, that is my sister she is talking about.  Cecelia and I lived together for so many years . . . Cecelia was like my mother for such a long time.  I miss her so much.  But wait, why is she talking about her?  At the thought of not being with Cecelia suddenly awakens me; I arouse and start to cry and I try to say to this lady, “It has been a while, It has been a while.”  I think to myself that I have not seen my sister in so long!  I miss her terribly as it has been 24 years since she died.  Then I calm down and hear this lady again speaking so softly to me and she says, “Yes, June, it has been a while but it does not need to be any longer.  I am giving you a mission.  I want you to go find Cecelia and tell her hello for us and that we miss her.  You will finally be together again.”  Well, I have calmed myself down now and am thinking about my sister Cecelia.  This lady is still gently holding my hand; I can feel her compassion and warmth radiate from her body to mine.  She leans over so close to my ear and I hear the words, “We love you” and with that she slowly removes her hand from mine.  Then she and the man with her slowly and quietly leave the room. 

       I think to myself, what place is it that she wants me to go? How am I going to go anywhere like this! I can’t even get out of bed and I can’t get dressed.  But from what she said to me, it must be beautiful and I certainly could use a change of scenery.  I will have to think about this.  I miss my sister Cecelia so much, and if I can find her at this place, that would be so nice and we could be together again. We could catch up on all the things that have gone on since she left me. That seems so long ago.  

       I lay back on my soft pillow.  My nurse adjusts it to my needs and she covers me with a blanket.  She quietly walks toward the door to dim the lights, but returns to my bedside.  I feel relaxed and comfortable . . . the most comfortable I have felt in a long time.  I am so very tired . . . I feel as though even my bones want to sleep . . . and then I feel a sudden urge to sleep, it is like my body is telling me to sleep, a sound, deep sleep.  I feel a need to dream, dream, dream.  I draw a long slow breath and close my eyes for one last time as I dream about the journey I might be taking soon.  I slumber deeply and I begin to dream.  

       I feel like I am lifted up and gently carried on wings of angels . . . and I have a sensation of being suspended between two worlds.  This does not last long before my dream blends into another world, one of light, love, beauty, caring, trust . . . when all of a sudden, my body feels an ever subtle change and slowly I become whole and complete again; my mind is cleared of all shortcomings.  My eyes are opened and I begin to see in the distance a most beautiful place coming into view.  Never have I seen such radiance or such unbelievable loveliness.  This is beauty in its ultimate form, radiant light, brightly colored flowers of all the colors of the rainbow, a beautiful swirling crystal sea, so many angels singing and all with such magnificent voices . . . I see so many people waiting for me, but in the midst of them, there stands someone who is brighter than everyone.  His eyes are focused on me and are so compassionate, tender and loving; it is as if they are welling up with tears of joy at seeing me appear in front of Him.  His arms reach out to me as I draw nearer.  As I come next to Him, he wraps his warm, loving arms around me and is so happy to see me.  He tells me He has been waiting for my arrival.  He further explains that I have been a child of His from the time I was born, and he is so pleased that I have finally come home to live with Him, his angels, and all the other precious souls, in His beautiful home called heaven.

Written by Ruth Miller

© May, 2010

A TRIBUTE TO MY AUNT JUNE

       June was born mentally challenged and never had the “quality of life” as most know it.  Regardless of the fact that she was always taken care of and was mainstreamed into society as best as possible, June knew she was different.   She didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of “being different”, but she knew she was different.  There are so many milestones, that we as normal individuals complete in our lives, which were far beyond the reaches of June’s basic ability to complete.  She never knew the fun of learning how to drive, never knew the anticipation of going on a first date, never realized the joy of graduating from high school, going to college, pursuing a career or getting married.  June never experienced the love of a husband or the joy of holding a child or grandchild in her arms. 

       Anything that required normal functional brain ability, June could not do, but she tried with all the ability she could muster.  However, June was very good at crafts  For many years, when she was attending the Lakeland Multipurpose Center (which is an adult daycare center), she would make a lot of crafts that were sold at craft fairs to make money for the center’s activities.  June loved doing this and it was the one thing in her life she could take pride in as an “accomplishment” by her. She became the ‘Queen of the Craft Room’ in her own mind, because crafts were something she could do and do very well.  Even at the Amonet Adult Living Facility where June resided for the past several years, June made crafts for them at different times as well.  June enjoyed doing crafts and again, this was something she could do and took pride in being able to make things for others, especially during the holidays. 

       There were accomplishments for June which were big to her . . . I remember one time at our Ladies Bible Class (which June attended before she was unable to do so), she was called on to read a short Bible passage.  She would struggle a little through it but she did it and did it well.  She was so pleased that she was able to do this and you could see a smile that was slowly spreading from ear to ear.  It was as if she was saying inside to herself . . . “Yeah!  I can do that and I just did!”  This meant so much to her, that she could participate in this manner with other adults.  At her ALF, when they had a special event and had flyers to hand out, June was the person they always asked to do this and she took this job seriously; she handed out a flyer to anyone and everyone who came through their front door.  She did it with pride and did it well. 

       June was unable to grasp an understanding of so much in her lifetime here on earth, but one thing she knew and knew very well, and that was . . . she knew there was a God . . . and she knew there was a place called heaven.  June was brought up in Catholicism.  All she really knew was that she was to attend Mass on certain days.  She never understood any of the whys or wherefores of going to church, except that this is what she was always told she had to do and she did it.  When June first came to live with us in 1986, I would take her to the Catholic Church on Saturday.  When I picked her up I would always ask her to tell me something she remembered or learned.  She never had a response other than to say to me that she just sat there for an hour.  She was simply going through the motions of “going to church” but had no clue as to why she was doing this or why she should do this, other than the fact that she had done this all of her life.  June would also go with us to church on Sunday since we couldn’t leave her by herself.

       She loved to sing hymns at church and even though she could not carry a tune in a bucket, she sang to her heart’s desire.  Sometimes she even got ME off tune, but be that as it may, this made no difference to her heavenly Father; He heard her songs and to Him they were lovely.  He knew she had limitations, but to Him, June was still His child and that was all that mattered.  June seemed to enjoy attending church with us and gradually decided on her own that she wanted to attend church with us regularly and did not want to go back to the Catholic Church.  When June would attend church with us, I could tell that she was listening . . . and for a while, she could tell me some of the things she heard and what we were studying.  However, we were very surprised when she told us one night she wanted to obey the gospel and be baptized.  She wanted to be baptized that very night but we told her no, that we needed to discuss the further.  June eventually won over (you have to understand that June also has a stubborn streak that just won’t wait too) and she was baptized on Sunday April 4, 1994.           

       Although June had the mentality of an 8-year-old child all her life and never reached the “age of accountability”, as such was always a child of the Father.  June went through times in her life where she endured above and beyond what we would do if we were in her situation.  When she was in the hospital this past February, to the amazement of her doctors and all of us involved with her care, she overcame a severely compromising life situation . . . she still wanted to live! In fact, she had said to us on numerous occasions when she was living with us that she was going to live to be 104!  She kept on pushing herself to continue with life . . . where others in her situation would have long since given up.  

       June’s last several months were an up-and-down struggle for her, as she slowly began to lose all control of her mind . . . dementia is an utterly devastating disease . . . and it did not spare June in its ravaging.  It was as if her mind would not shut off;  like a phonograph recording on continuous play, except the needle was stuck in a groove and it repeated itself  over and over to ad infinitum, red, red, red, red, one of June’s favorite colors.  When the dementia found another thought, it plucked it from June’s mind and the repetition would begin all over again until the dementia found something else.  I am so thankful that June was not aware of the indignities she was having to suffer during this time.  Fortunately for June, she slept right through much of her last days here on earth, and her mind was at rest to some degree.

       Despite all the suffering and the indignation she went through at the end, June’s time on earth has now ended and the Heavenly Father has taken her home to live with Him in eternity.  Today, June is existing in another plane of life . . . one that we here on earth can only imagine the likeness of . . .  being surrounded with unfathomable love, joy, peace, warmth, light and beauty . . . a life that we cannot even begin to comprehend with our finite minds, but yet, a place where we all desire to go when our time on this earth has ended.  Yes, June may have missed out on a lot of earth’s pleasures as we know them, but now . . . she is basking in all the beauties of heaven.   All these years when she seemed to be “below the norm” according to our society and our way of life, she is now ahead of us all!  She will know way before many of us will, what heaven is all about and what a beautiful place our heavenly Father has provided for us when it comes our time to pass from this side of life, if we do His will. 

       Yes, we will miss you June . . . we will miss your antics . . . we will miss seeing you so involved in your “word search puzzles” . . . we will miss seeing you smile when you have finally managed to complete something you have struggled with for so long.

       Now today, as we deliver these final parting thoughts on your life as a memorial to you, may your soul be at peace in the arms of our loving Father in heaven.   Goodbye June.

Written by Ruth Miller/Copyright, May 27, 2010*

*  This memorial tribute was read at June's Memorial Service on June 2, 2010.  I  was her guardian and she lived with me and my husband for nearly 24 years before she made her journey to her real home.  Keeping June was a challenge, as she was born retarded at birth as just one of her problems.  At her peak level of intelligence she had the mind of an eight-year-old.  And, like every family, we had our good days and not so good days, but June was going to be June, no matter the situation at the time, simply because she was the way she was.  As you can see, life was a definite challenge for her although we mainstreamed her as much as possible.  As I look back on these years, I realize that June has left me with some very valuable assets that I would have never been given without her.  June gave me sight (to see the world as she saw the world), she made me more humble (she made me see through her mind's way of thinking), she instilled in me compassion (she gave deep insight into her world of abnormality), she made me learn endurance (she was strong willed and I had to keep up with her little fisascos), she helped me develop an extreme level of patience (she had her way of doing things regardless of right or wrong), and she perpetuated my thankfulness for being without disability (she struggled throughout her life to try to be a normal person).  June will live on in me because of this and she has made me a better human being for the rest of my life.

MY THOUGHTS TO TYLER'S FAMILY

A child is born to live a life,

In a world of love and not of strife.

He lives, he loves, he laughs and plays,

He learns about life in so many ways.

He is taught the difference between right and wrong,

He quickly learns not to “go along with the throng”.

He learns the importance of character you see,

And the importance of keeping his integrity.

While we all make choices in our journey of life,

Some turn up good and some are with strife.

We cannot turn backward, but forward must go,

We quickly learn the line we must tow.

This life has been shortened too soon, we would say,

He was in his prime and making his way.

He had learned all the basics and was well into life,

But his time was involved in a battle of strife.

He was a man’s man, he was fighting a war,

His life was given so that freedom would soar.

He knew his life would be in jeopardy,

But danger outweighed the love for his country.

He had served his term and was to be soon homeward bound,

When his Blackhawk was suddenly hurled down to the ground.

Nothing could halt this slow terror in the sky,

It was at this point he knew he would die.

He accepts himself as the man he has become,

From the grateful upbringing he received from his home.

He thinks on his life and the people he loves,

His life is now hanging on the wings of a dove.

He wishes for them that they not worry so,

He prays they understand it was his time to go.

He loved his family and his sisters all,

And his mom and his dad who were always “on call”.

As he lingers in thought for what seems an eternity,

He thinks of these words to say to his family:

The Lord giveth and He taketh away,
but why me, I am sure you would say.

We know not why, nor rhyme nor reason,
but everyone on earth does have their season.

When it comes to the “winter” of a person’s life,
even only with a few years of love,

Life seems to lend an unfair strife,
when a soul starts their journey above.

It is at this time, we search our minds,
to make sure we did all that we could,

To you, it will be such a difficult time,
to even think straight as you should.

Although you cannot be with me any more,
your heart has a large corner inside,

For all those great memories which you want to store,
from when life with me did abide.

All of you, please remember, we each have our time,
and no one knows when that will end,

You just have to honor, trust, love and be kind,
keeping all my great memories within.

I have not traveled that far away,
I live just inside all of your hearts,

So don’t fret for me on this very sad day,
please take this in stride and go on with life’s way.

I love all of you from the very depths of my soul,
 but you must understand this was my time to go.

Just remember my love for you all of these years,
but most of all, wipe away all those tears.

Now just one more thing to all of you here,
your life must go on through the rest of your years,

Don’t let my parting get out in your way,
for my time has ended and that is God’s way.

Written on the Passing of

Tyler in August of 2007

A Man of Men Who Gave His Life

That we Might Live Free

©2007