Thursday, August 9, 2012

Something smells good up there. . .

Pepper's (our dog) tumor in her mouth is still growing pretty rapidly toward the back of her throat.  I am getting more nervous about the end--will I awaken one morning and she won't be breathing anymore?  Will I come home and she won't come out to greet me?  Will we have to put her to sleep?  Will I hold her when she takes her last breath after the shot, or will I say my final good-bye before hand?  (any experiences you want to share regarding this will be appreciated as I decide what to do in this scenario) The night before last was the first time I really started having a hard time letting go.  I'm glad I have the chance to prepare for it, but as fast as the tumor is growing, it seems that it could be soon.  Then I think--"it could be a few months before it makes her sick enough to take her life."  She seems so normal right now that the more I pet her and talk to her, the more I begin to miss her as I imagine this might be the last day I feel her soft, warm fur closely anymore.  Sigh.  She seems to be constantly by my side these days, too, so I will notice her absence even more than when I was busy with a newborn and she kind of stayed in the background.  The good thing about pets is that you can always get yourself reattached to another one. . .but I don't like it that we really are at the end for her. 
The first pic today is kind of funny.  In Germany, we almost always took her to restaurants if we walked from our house, and if we drove somewhere out of town, it was a nice way for her to be out of the hotel room for the evening.  She usually stayed under the table (just two of us back then, so she had the other two spots to herself).  Most of the time the server did not even know she was there, and we made a point to never feed her directly from the table.  So, this particular meal, it was quite funny.  You can see Scott just received his plate of sausage and is using the hand sanitizer--suddenly a black nose is poking her way up, forcing her way through his legs.  We got quite a laugh since she stays so quiet :)  mmm-mmm.  smelled something good up there. . .
Then the day we all 3 moved to Germany--flying out of DFW.  We had so much to learn, and we had no idea what our house would look like.  Our possessions would arrive a couple of months later (made you realize what you really can live without).  It was definitely a journey into the unknown (although I had at least taken German at Baylor).
Our 1200 square foot apartment with government furniture
Scott and Pepper strolling through one of our favorite towns--Rothenberg


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Luke Lives On

I had to share about an organization if you have not heard about it.  We at www.Cradled.org have been working closely with one of our local hospitals to ensure that the women and families who experience the loss of a baby have support and encouragement the minute they enter the hospital.  (We are waiting on approval from the other hospital).  Providence has partnered with the organization Luke Lives On to provide each family who is leaving the hospital empty handed with a box of gifts and things for grief support.  Lisa Hayes is the founder of Luke Lives On close by here in Austin, Texas.  After the loss of her son, Luke, she made it her mission to reach out to other grieving families.  Her work is priceless!  You can sponsor a box, and each family who gives a box will receive a note when it has been passed on to another family.  Please check out her website www.lukeliveson.org  We were shown inside the boxes last week after we met with nurses to discuss what Cradled has to offer.  All of us were deeply touched and thankful that these women and families will have something to hold that will hopefully bring them comfort on their journey of grief.