Last night after choir practice Jeannette gave Jean-Claude a bath, to get him ready for bed. She wrapped him in a towel, African style. Here's a picture:

We got Jean-Claude this neat Fischer Price tricycle that can be a rocker or a pusher or a trike.

We also got him a baby doll, and his mother showed him how to carry the doll on his back.

So, here is the picture!

I invited Jean-Claude to come feed the cats with me yesterday afternoon.  As a part of this ritual, I always give Toby the Dog a dog biscuit.  I handed the dog biscuit to Jean-Claude, telling him about being gentle and giving the biscuit to the dog carefully and all.  Before I could stop him, Jean-Claude had eaten the dog biscuit!  Oh, well, I reasoned, it won't kill him.  I told him, though, that I would go get him a cookie.  So I stepped inside to get a vanilla wafer for him.  Then I handed him the vanilla wafer, and said, OK, Jean-Claude, this is for you.  I didn't even get it handed to him good before Toby snatched it and ate it.  So, we started over, with another biscuit and another vanilla wafer, and this time the right "people" got the right cookie.  Jeannette and I had a good laugh over this as it happened.

Well, It's been a little more than two weeks since Jeannette and Jean-Claude came into my life.  What a wonderfully rich whirlwind it has been.  Here are just some highlights:

"It's My Job"  -- My son Fred and his wife Cedra (of Palette Play fame) happened to be visiting me for the first week with Jeanette and John-Claude.  Talk about a serendipity!  What a glorious help they were.  Cedra is a fantastic artist, and also a trained Montessori teacher.  She spent several "quality moments" with Jean-Claude!  Fred is a jack-of-all-trades, but among the things he does, he is a bicyclist and a whiz at repairing bikes.  OK -- so the first thing is that I am having a hard time explaining to Jeannette that I "work" at the computer.  "Is your job?"  "Yes"  "You work here (meaning at my home at one of my computers)?" "Yes"  "They pay you money for work?" "Yes" -- so she sort of wanders off, shaking her head.  Then, Cedra was working on one of her paintings.  She is a graduate student at NMSU in fine arts-painting, and has several juries she must keep creating for.  Jeanette watched for awhile, and then asked "You tired?"  Cedra explained that yes, she did get tired, but that she really had to do at least a few hours of painting every day, because "this is my job".  Jeannette just looks puzzled.  THEN, Fred was fixing one of three bikes my daughter dug out of her storeroom to give to the Burundi, through the church.  Jeannette watched him, fascinated.  "You do good!" she said.  Fred replied, "Aw, it's OK.  It's just my job".  Now, can't you just hear Jeannette trying to explain to her Burundi friends -- "I sure don't know where this crazy family I live with get their money. One says her job is playing on the computer.  One says her job is coloring pictures.  One says his job is fixing bicycles.  Very strange."

"This what you do?" -- After watching Cedra paint, several different times, Jeannette went into her room and brought out a jar of finger-nail polish, and brought it to Cedra.  "This you paint?"  Cedra explained, that no, she was not a manicurist.  She was an artist. 

"Boy and Dog" -- Jean-Claude and my little Toby dog are actually about the same size, if you measure from their heads to their bottoms.  I know this because one afternoon when I gave Toby a dog biscuit, he lay down on the grass on his tummy to eat it.  When I turned around, there was Jean-Claude lying beside him, in exactly the same position, watching Toby eat!  Oh, for a camera!  Jean-Claude has made great progress with Toby.  At first, he was terrified of the dog -- he would literally climb the nearest adult.  Then he got to where he would tolerate Toby if Toby wasn't too close, and Jean-Claude was being held by an adult.  Then he got to the point where he was gingerly accepting Toby's overtures of friendship.  Then he got to the point where he was patting and hugging Toby ("gently, now, Jean-Claude -- we treat animals gently").  Then he "progressed" to the point of recognizing that he, Jean-Claude, was higher on the totem pole than Toby, so he started kicking and hitting him.  Of course, we have worked him back from that position, and now I think that very soon the dog will have a boy and the boy will have a dog -- and that's what BOTH of them really need, right?

"Sit" -- Jean-Claude is learning English by leaps and bounds, but on his first day at Pre-School, he really didn't know much English.  However, when we picked him up, the pre-school teacher told us that she felt like he was destined to be a leader. She said that when she told the children to "Come now and sit in a circle", that Jean-Claude went to each child that was not obeying and said "Sit!  Sit!"  I told her Jean-Claude had been practicing on the dog.

That will do for now -- I'll add more incidents as I remember them (or as they happen).  Thanks for all of your support.  Keep praying! 

Hugs ~~ Aunt Bobby

It occurred to me today at church that all during Chet's final illness, the Burundi had been coming to our church and I was not involved with them, even though I was thrilled to see it happen.  Then, after Chet died, I began to pray that God would help me find some sort of ministry or involvement with the Burundis.  I had no idea I was praying for Him to send me "a couple of Burundis of my very own"!  Guess that means you better be careful what you pray for -- God just MIGHT answer you!

Rejoicing in all the different ways to serve ~~ Aunt Bobby

Where has the time gone?  I intended to keep this blog up!

Here's a copy of an eMail I sent to several of my eMail Scrabble correspondents and others to tell them why I hadn't made a Scrabble play in a while.  It contains some old and some new information. I must find the time to share some wonderful stuff -- like trying to explain Beef Jerky and having Jeannette taste it and say "Oh.  African meat".  Lots more stuff like that, but I've got to go now.  I promised Jeannette that if she would play with Jean-Claude this morning, I would take her and him to MacDonalds to let him play on the gymboree, and get a hamburger.  So -- gotta go.  Hugs to all.

I really didn't intend to blog today, but I had to post this picture of Jean-Claude "helping". 

Today went well.  We took Jean-Claude to Payless Shoes to get him some sandals with velcro and some tennis shoes with velcro, to replace the "combat boot" type high-tops that looked so hot and clumsy on his feet.  No wonder they looked clumsy -- the shoes that fit him are size 8 1/2, and the ones he had been wearing were size 12!  I'm sure they were better than no shoes at all, but oh, does he love his new shoes!  And very soon he will be able to put them on himself, since they are velcro fastened.

I went to the ball game this evening leaving Jeanette and John-Claude alone at home, and when I returned they were asleep and the house looked great.  Jeanette jumps up from the table after each meal and does the dishes, and then she sweeps and mops the kitchen floor.  And Jean-Claude helps!

I also caught him in a happier, less photo-shy moment, rocking himself in my rocking chair.

A good day!    Blessings!  ~~  Aunt Bobby

I was too tired to post last night, so I went to bed early.

Jean-Claude let me rock him to sleep again last night -- I had forgotten how wonderfully sweet it is to rock a grandchild to sleep!

Here is a picture:

It will be good when we find out exactly what Jeanette is going to be doing this fall, because she really needs something to do during the days.

My daughter had a very good bike that her children were no longer using, and my son -- who is a biker and a bike repair specialist -- is getting it up to snuff for her, with a baby carrier and all, so she will have transportation to local things. 

Actually, yesterday was just a pretty normal day with a two-year-old in the home!

Hugs ~~ Aunt Bobby

Today was Sunday, which means I didn't really have Jeanette and John-Claude very much, since they spent the day at church with all their Burundian friends. 

I fixed scrambled eggs for breakfast, along with bananas, toast, and milk.  That seemed to please Jean-Claude, and was fine with Jeanette.  It's interesting that I don't really know how to fix food for them yet -- but I figured they might as well get an "American" breakfast!  As I thought, it DID take a little longer than usual to get ready for church -- the main problem being that we could not find Jean-Claude's shoes ANYWHERE.  Jeanetter finally dug out an old pair and put it on him.  We got to church on time, but barely! 

What I do during Sunday School these days is play the piano for the opening assembly in the department of people my age, and then go over to the Pre-School area and help with the babies and toddlers there.  Jean-Claude is in the toddler class, and he was glad to see me when I arrived.  He happily showed off the motions he had learned Saturday night to the wonderful toddler song "Here's a Ball for Baby".  He seemed pretty tired and fussy, and he let me rock him for just a minute, but then the activities of the toddlers were just too enticing, so he jumped down and began playing happily, and was still doing so when I left for church.  What I did then was rock the littlest baby until she went to sleep, and then slip out, because there were plenty of workers today (there sometimes are not!)

After church, someone brought Jeanette and John-Claude home.  We all played together for awhile, and then Jean-Claude got really fussy and unhappy -- the manifestations of a two-year-old who is ready to go to sleep.  He let me rock him to sleep.  Then Jeanette retired to her room and shut the door -- I think she was probably pretty tired, too. 

Tomorrow morning, I am going to try to teach Jeanette to scramble the eggs and use the toaster oven to make toast, and then she and Jean-Claude can have breakfast as early or as late as they wish, no matter what I do -- which will be good.

So -- off to bed, now -- thanks for caring, all you Artella people!   Hugs ~~  Aunt Bobby ("Baba" to Jean-Claude -- and to ALL of my grands and great-grands)

Jeanette and Jean-Claude arrived about two o'clock today, along with three couples from the church that sort of have taken all the Burundi in our church under their wing.  They brought all her possessions -- and they barely filled a chest-of-drawers I had emptied for her.  No toys at all for Jean-Claude, but of course that was no problem at THIS house -- it comes equipped for grandchildren. Jeanette actually speaks quite a few words of English -- certainly enough for us to understand each other on a simple level.  Jean-Claude is adorable (what 2-year-old isn't?). The biggest problem we had was that Jean-Claude was afraid the dogs.

Let me interject here that the reason "dogs" is plural is because my son and his wife and their two dogs are visiting from Albuquerque.  If you read the Muse, and especially Pallette Play, you are acquainted with the work of Fred and Cedra -- they are responsible for the art and words for Pallette Play each day.  They will be here until a week from Monday.  My little dog Toby and Jean-Claude got along fairly well, but the "big dogs" scared him some.

We finally got Jean-Claude to pretty much ignore the dogs, and we played outside and then inside for awhile.  We had a fine supper -- they had told me that Jeanette's family had probably not been giving her a full share of their food, and indeed she did pretty much eat like she was starved.  But, then, I remember when I was pregnant, I always ate like I was starved, no matter how much I had had to eat the day or the meal before! 

Jean-Claude was a little reluctant to go to bed -- I'm sure it all seemed pretty strange to him -- but now they are all settled (Fred and Cedra, too), so the house is very quiet. 

I think having Jeanette and Jean-Claude is going to work out just fine.  The plan for tomorrow is for me to take them to church with me, and then they will spend the entire day there -- it will be a time for Jeanette to visit her Burundi friends.  Someone will bring them home after the evening service.  So they won't be here much tomorrow.  It will be interesting getting ready for church with a two-year-old -- I seem to remember having a little trouble with that when my children were that age <grin>. But maybe it won't be a problem for Jeanette and Jean-Claude.  I am not sure what to have for breakfast tomorrow -- maybe I will scramble them some eggs.  That might work. 

Thank you for your kind words and all your prayers and support.  You are certainly a loving circle of friends and family!

Hugs ~~ Aunt Bobby

Hi, all my Artella friends and family:

Today I begin a new and exciting adventure.  A young girl, 18 years old, with a 2-year-old son and expecting a baby in October, was told by her family (actually, two families living in one small apartment) that there was no room for her.  She needs a place to live.  The choir director from my church and his wife heard of this and thought of me.  SInce Chet died, I have been living alone in this big house.  They asked me if I would take her in.  I told them yes.  She and her son come today.  Her name is Jeanette.  Her son's name is John-Claude.  The fact that she is a refugee from Burundi, Africa, and speaks very little English, adds another ingredient to the mix.

It's going to be interesing.  Pray for me and for her.  Thanks!

Hugs ~~ Aunt Bobby

Hey, guys -- have you noticed a new name among those who are being published in the Muse?  Check out the Sunday Poem & Garden Section, and let me know what you think of Amanda Buck and her poems.  I am encouraging her to get a Blog, and also to start responding to the Forums.  I think she will be a great addition to the Artella family! 

Hugs ~~ Aunt Bobby

OK -- I'm going to stick a post about laughing out loud right here in the middle of the posts about grief.  I have found that laughter still exists, and that it is healing.  I am going to share two things -- both just apocryphal, but both funny in their way.  And, be prepared, both make fun of women and of old age!

(1) The story is told of dear Martha, who so longed to have a baby that she continued to read about research and new techniques, even into her sixties.  Finally, when she was 65, she found a doctor who would accept her as a fertility challenge.  Through all the miracles of modern medicine, she did conceive, and, against all odds, bore a healthy baby boy. Her joy knew no bounds.  One day when the baby was about a month old, some of her old friends came to visit and congratulate her, and of course to see the baby.  Martha ushered them into her lovely kitchen, and prepared tea for them, and they chatted for some minutes.  Finally, one of the friends said, "Martha -- can we see the baby now?"  "Not yet," replied Martha.  Some more minutes of visiting and rejoicing and drinking tea went by, and then another friend asked "Can we see the baby now?" "Not yet," replied Martha.  This happened twice more, and the friends were getting a little concerned.  Finally one of them asked, "OK, WHEN can we see the baby?" "When he cries," replied Martha.  "Why must we wait until he cries?" asked the friends.  "Because I forgot where I put him," responded Martha

(2) This is an eMail I received from one of my eMail buddies:

With the high rate of attacks on women in secluded parking lots, especially during evening hours, the Minneapolis City Council has established a "Women Only" parking lot at the Mall of America.  Even the parking lot attendants are exclusively female so that a comfortable and safe environment is created for patrons.  Here is the first picture available of this world-first women-only parking lot in Minnesota:

 This article appeared in the Artella Daily Muse, in the Heal Estate Section, on June 4, 2008

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My husband Chet died just three weeks ago today.  I thought it might be helpful to me to trace my grief process, using the "Five Stages of Grief" model.  Perhaps it can also be helpful to others. Of course, by its very nature, this topic is an extremely personal one, so be aware that I am opening my heart.

By the time we went to the hospital Friday morning, Chet's skin and eyeballs had a decidedly yellow tinge.  We spent Friday and Saturday having all sorts of tests.  Then on Sunday, July 1, they told us that Chet had bilirubinemia – too much bilirubin in his blood.  When I asked the doctor what was causing it, he told us something that I was to hear over and over in my head and heart for the next ten months (and still do, as a matter of fact).  He said, "The primary cause of asymptomatic bilirubinemia is pancreatic cancer."  Lots of time and lots of tests later were to prove that doctor's diagnosis spot on.

Chet spent the next several weeks in and out of the hospital – they removed his gall bladder, fitted him with a biliary stent (and then another when that one failed), treated his malaria-like chills and fever.  They sent him for test after test.  When we were finally referred to an oncologist, she told us that even though the tumor was not large, and had not metastasized, it did compromise a major artery in the abdomen, and hence was not operable.  They told us the prognosis was death within six months if we did nothing, and death within 9-12 months if Chet went through chemotherapy and radiation.

They sent us to the radiologist, who read the records, and said, "No one will say this is for sure a malignant growth.  They say 'probable' or 'suspected' or 'apparent'.  I will not radiate a non-malignant tumor, and until we have proof, I will not administer radiation treatments.”  Suddenly it seemed we had been given hope.  All the denial that we had tried to stifle came rushing out – maybe he really didn't have cancer.  Maybe he really wasn't going to die.  After all, this oncology radiation expert didn't think so. 

His recommendation was that Chet undergo a camera-directed biopsy.  When we talked to the technician – the best in our area, people had said – he told us "I will have a radiologist in surgery with me.  We will not stop until we find malignancy for sure, or until we can be certain that there is none".  About 45 minutes later he came and told me that it only took three tissue samples to find some malignant tissue.

So, all our denial came crashing down around our heads. 

That was our denial phrase.  It ended abruptly with a positive diagnosis of pancreatic cancer on September 7, 2007 – just about two months after the first mention of that diagnosis.  We now had no choice but to face up to the reality – Chet had pancreatic cancer. 

My husband, Chet, died this morning, May 14.

So, the final tether was severed, and his soul was free to go home.

Thank all of you for all of your prayers, love, and support during this period.

Here is one of my favorite poems about dying,

Crossing the Bar by Alfred Lord Tennyson: