THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND

Note: The following story was written by Danna Shirley in the first person although her friend, Pat Ring, was Juanita's eyes on this shopping trip. 

            My friend Juanita, who is legally visually impaired due to macular degeneration, needed transportation to the mall to do some shopping. Her usual sidekick was unable to take her on this particular day so I volunteered.  How hard could it be?  I know my way around the mall and I knew I could find Penney’s and Macy’s without any trouble.  Juanita is also a load of fun and I knew we’d have a great time together.

            We parked, went inside, shopped at Penney’s and then went out into the mall to do some window shopping. Even though Juanita cannot determine precise details, she can still see shadows and make out approximate shapes and colors. I described different outfits for her and she tried a few on in different stores.  Our shopping trip was a success.  We wandered up and down and all around, sat occasionally to visit, and just had a really nice day together.

            When it was time to leave, we proceeded inside the Penney’s store and toward the exit where we had parked.  Nothing looked familiar.  I asked her to wait inside while I looked for the car.  No car!  Where was I?  Had the car been stolen?  I walked back inside trying to retrace my steps from our arrival.

               

            Poor Juanita.  She couldn’t help me and I was in a panic.  How could I admit to her that her seeing eye being was lost?  I finally confessed.

            She asked me, “What department was right inside the door when we entered?”

            “I think it was the tools?” I answered.

            “There are no tools in Penney’s,” she replied.  “We must have come through the Sears entrance.”

            Relief and recollection flooded my memory as I realized that I had parked outside of Sears thinking that I was right outside of Penney’s.  We proceeded to the Sears store and through the tool department to the parking lot.  Voilà . . . there was my car sitting in the handicapped spot where I had left it.

            I will never again believe that a visually impaired person needs help getting around.  Juanita helped this lost soul find her way back home.

THE BIG “D” WORD -- “Divorce” . . . Are We Having Fun Yet?

by Danna Shirley

My husband, Ron, was an avid fisherman, dare I say . . . A VERY SERIOUS FISHERMAN! I came from a family of non-fishermen. My dad didn’t even like the smell of fish cooking in the house. So what does Ron want to do just a few months into our marriage? Take me fishing!

            “Oh, it’ll be fun, you’ll love it!” he said. 

            “Well, I don’t know. I’m not much in the great outdoors.”

            Ron was excited about our upcoming weekend. As an Alabama boy, he knew all the fishing holes back home, but in California he had to get out the map and decide what lake we could get to and if there was a camp site available. His next chore was to rent a tent, sleeping bags, camp stove, lantern, and all other paraphernalia that goes with such a weekend. He went around the house whistling while he worked just knowing this was going to be an unforgettable experience. I, on the other hand, had ominous misgivings about even surviving, much less enjoying it. Roughing it, to me, was a camper with running water and a flushing toilet.                        Friday afternoon came and we were off to a reservoir about two hours away. As we pulled in, there were already several parked cars with boat trailers and campers dotting the surroundings.  People were fishing around the top edge. Ron took one look and said it was too crowded for him; we needed to go further around to a secluded spot so he could fish in private . . . yes, he was A VERY SERIOUS FISHERMAN! We began to drive where no car had gone before, and with good reason; we got stuck in the mud. He was not only aggravated by this predicament but also aggravated that it would delay getting some fishing in before dark.

I learned that the process to unstick a car is quite dramatic. It involves digging out mud, placing some lumber pieces just so, and a whole lot of cussing. He put me behind the wheel and got behind the car to push. Fishing was temporarily suspended while everyone around the top of the reservoir turned their attention to watch the antics of these new arrivals.  

When Ron told me to give it the gas, the mud smacked him in the face with a vengeance; almost like payback for us invading its territory. That’s when the big “D” word was first spoken. I was NOT having fun yet and with each attempt to extract the car, the more unbearable this fishing experience became. We must have been a deplorable sight to the observers up top for we were putting on quite a show.

            When we finally reached an acceptable spot and calmed ourselves, Ron hurriedly set up the tent and made everything ready for me to cook a nice fish dinner when he returned with a catch. Now I do not like to cook under the best of circumstances and this campsite was no where close. He returned after dark and lit the lantern so he could see to clean the fish. As I delicately tried to grip each fish he handed me, it would slip through my two fingers and plop to the dirt and we would again go through another tirade of the big “D” word. He would grab up the fish and take it back down to the water to rinse it off. With the cooking ordeal behind us and the eating ordeal ahead of us, I did not want to sit out there in the dark.  I slipped into the car and turned on the dome light. What I saw was my fish covered with bugs. Ron was sitting in the dark blissfully eating his fish with the bug garnish on top. 

            ARE WE HAVING FUN YET???!!!

            The next challenge was the tent, which Ron had set up on an incline in such a way that we were rolling downhill all night. I could not wait to get back to civilization, a hot bath, and a pleasant dining experience, which he owed me and paid for dearly.

            We both came away from that weekend with a fresh understanding of our relationship; if our marriage was ever going to make it, we had to agree that I WOULD NEVER GO FISHING WITH HIM AGAIN!

            It was several years later before we once again attempted this challenge. It was a day trip, just a few hours, and Ron allowed me to bring a lawn chair, umbrella, book, and a bag of chips, which I could eat only if I didn’t rustle the bag and scare the fish away. I must have been quiet enough for we were happily married thirty-four years.

 February 2006

THE ART OF FLYING

Danna Shirley  

FLYING IN THE UNITED STATES

I have traveled a lot in the last year, flying from Tennessee to California several times, and in all those flights I have learned something new in quite a number of areas. The following conditions were experienced by me personally or by someone I’ve known.

·        Every flight was full to capacity so everything had to be stowed overhead or under the seat; no overflowing into the companion seats and no moving to a more comfortable location because the airline I had chosen was “first come, first served.”

·        On one flight I moved all the way to the last row to be near the rest room and I chose the aisle seat so I wouldn’t have to disturb anyone getting up. Did you know the last row doesn’t recline because the seatback is right next to the wall?

·        In one seat the air didn’t work and my hot flashes took massive control.

·        In another the tray table didn’t pull down completely flat so I couldn’t rest a book on it to read and I certainly couldn’t place my drink on it safely.

·        A little turbulence landed the spray from a soda can in my lap and on the flight attendant as well.

·        A baby cried throughout one flight, poor little thing, probably due to earaches. My ears were also wreaking havoc with me but I couldn’t cry. 

·        My sister is always concerned with head lice from passengers who have previously sat in the seat, so I was afraid to put my head back. Ugh!

·        And of course there is the inevitable layover that turns into delay, after delay, after delay. 

·        And the final insult . . . luggage that doesn’t arrive until the next day—if ever!

FLYING IN JAPAN

Years earlier my daughter, Kristen, was traveling to Japan to spend the summer with the family. Her flight was delayed coming into the country and so she missed her connection to meet us. When this reality set in, fear gripped her at one end of the route and us at the other. This is what happened:

·        Kristen missed her connecting flight into Nagasaki and knew before even landing in Fukuoka that she would have to spend the night there. She didn’t speak Japanese and didn’t have a clue what to do or how to communicate that she needed help.

·        Her father and I were on the other end waiting for her. When she didn’t get off the plane, we also didn’t know what to do or where to go to find out what happened.

·        As Kris deplaned, an English-speaking airline employee was holding a sign with her name on it. They had already made arrangements for a room near the airport, a shuttle to the hotel, food vouchers, and a flight to Nagasaki the next morning.

·        At our end, an English-speaking airline employee found us and explained what had happened to Kristen. Arrangements had already been made to speak with her by phone (no cell phones in 1993).

·        We returned to the airport the next morning to find Kristen and her luggage had arrived safely. We shared we each other our most surprised and pleasant experience of customer service, Japanese style. 

WE WERE THOROUGHLY IMPRESSED

AND EXTREMELY THANKFUL!

THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

by Danna Shirley (2008)

I believe thankfulness is something that swells within us and overflows out of us in gratitude and appreciation, which leads to our joy. It is so easy to be thankful for our obvious blessings but can we be thankful for the disappointments in life? First Thessalonians 5:18 tells us “in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” When I come to the end of myself, God usually brings me back to the place where I can give thanks . . . for all things!

I’m thankful for the memory of my husband, Ron. We had thirty-four wonderful years together. As I look back on that time, I know we had our ups and downs, mountaintops and valleys, but all I can remember is the love, the joy, and the good memories. Thank You, God, for my lifetime mate.

I’m thankful for my children . . .  Kristen, Russell, and Aaron and grandchildren . . . Mackenzie, Emma, and Bella. That old expression, “When they’re young, they’re on your toes and when they’re grown, they’re on your heart” is so true, but I wouldn’t trade one moment of their lives with me. Thank You, God, for my heartbeat!

         

I’m thankful for my parents. Nana (Elsie) at age 87 and Pa (Howard) at age 86 are still healthy and active and full of life. I have wonderful childhood memories.  As a school teacher, Nana made sure I had a well-rounded education and Pa didn’t mind having three little girls on his heels. He made each of us feel special and so each of us thought we were his favorite. I am what I am today because of them and I am blessed. Thank You, God, for my roots.

I’m thankful for my sisters. Nan (six years older) and Paula (two years older), are a blessing to me. Even though we had our fusses growing up, as all children do, we’ve become great friends as adults. Thank You, God, for my siblings.

I’m thankful for my in-laws. Without Daddy Kline and Gran I wouldn’t have my husband, my children, and my grandchildren. Gran (Mary) at age 83 is our beloved “Prayer Warrior.” Her prayers brought me into the Kingdom of God and her prayers sustain the whole family as she lifts us up by name every morning and every evening. Thank You, God, for upholding all of us through Gran’s prayers.

I’m thankful for friends. I’ve traveled the world over and been blessed with many fantastic people in my life. It is always hard to leave friends behind but God has more waiting for me at my new destination. My address book is filled and I never give up a friend. Thank You, God, for friendships.

I’m thankful for religious freedom so I can gather together with sisters and brothers, friends and family of the faith; to lift up holy hands in the sanctuary and bless His name. Thank You, God, for freedom to worship.

      I’M MOST THANKFUL FOR JESUS CHRIST!

And for God loving me so much that He would send His one and only Son

to die on a cruel tree for my sins.

Thank You, God, for my salvation and eternal life.  

Note: Daddy Kline passed away September 10, 1998, Ron passed away February 20, 2003 and Pa passed away March 1, 2010. They are loved and missed but we’ll see them again in heaven.

TAKING CARE OF PA

by Danna Shirley

          My mother, age 90, fell July 9, 2009 out of the house and backward down three steps into the garage. She didn't break anything but was bruised internally. She stayed in the hospital four days. I arrived in Napa, CA July 16, 2009 to take care of her, which meant I helped her get up and down in the chair and in and out of bed and provided ice packs and pain medication. It took several weeks for her to mend but she fully recovered and returned to her usual routine . . . eating, reading, and napping. 

          By the time I arrived in CA, my dad, age 88, was diagnosed with congestive heart failure on top of prostate cancer surgery just five months earlier. My sister, Nan, my daughter, Kristen, and my niece, Rhonda, joined me to be caregivers on a rotating basis.  Nan and I were there together for the first three weeks. Nana was my patient and Pa was Nan’s patient. We were trying to get some calories into Pa because of his lack of appetite so Nan did all of the cooking; eggs, biscuits and gravy, oatmeal, grits, etc.    
          When Nan left, the cooking fell to me. Since I don’t like to cook due to my many disastrous experiences in the kitchen, I was in a panic to cook just the way Pa liked it. I thought the oatmeal and grits went pretty well but Pa said they needed to cook longer.            

          The calamity occurred when I opened a can of Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls and popped them into the toaster oven. I read the directions carefully, “Bake at 400° for 13 to 17 minutes.” Then I set the timer and went on to prepare the rest of his breakfast.        I trusted the directions on the package but they failed me miserably. After only ten minutes, I peeked through the window and saw nothing but black. 

The story of my life—another cooking disaster!

          The tops were burned and the insides were still doughy. Nana tried to make me feel better by blaming it on the toaster oven . . . bless her little heart! We cut off the top and insides and served the bottom crust. 

          Pa gave it one look and joked, “Take a picture of this. I want everyone to see just how well you’ve been taking care of me!”  J J J J

I looked on the Pillsbury Website under Frequently Asked Questions. It read:      

Can I bake the Sweet Rolls in a toaster oven?

Answer:  No, we don’t recommend it. A toaster oven's small size often results in uneven heating, and the dough may burn.

Well, you live and learn J

ROCKIN' RON

by Danna Shirley

While I was home for a visit from Japan, I stayed a few days with my niece, Rhonda, in Southern California. I noticed she had a rock statue of herself wearing her UPS uniform. She said a friend had made it for her.

Of course I wanted one for my husband. I had no picture to give but I described how I wanted him to be painted . . .

·        He has a receding hairline; gray hair

·        He wears granny glasses

·        He has a mustache

·        He wears khaki pants and a white shirt to work

·        Over the right pocket is his name

·        Over the left pocket is Aegis Test Team

Next I had to get him back to Japan on the plane. My dad packed Rockin’ Ron in such a way that I only had to cut one side of the box open for inspection. He also made a nice heavy handle so I could carry him easily.

With each stop along the way airport security opened the box to see what that solid, heavy figure really was. Inevitably they called others over to look and everyone enjoyed seeing Rockin’ Ron.

       When I arrived back in Japan and Ron opened his gift, we were all amazed at the likeness.