I've wanted to be more in touch with all of you. But thought it kind of silly to keep posting about car door locks not working, or how much more I need to do, to settle into the house. Surely something more interesting is happening in the world. In thinking about what I might share with you, I looked back at posts I've done since my son's two surgeries, and even bored myself with reading most of them.

Something needed to change, and it came in the form of a major restructuring of nursing assignments at work. While there's still a shortage of us, these changes help some. But I knew it would be much more difficult to work on acute care units.

I was so discouraged, that I'd about decided to just quit, and retire. But a certain young nurse who works the Alzheimer unit, lately had kept showing up wherever I was, telling me how she's moving back to Florida, and someone is needed to take her place, and not a lot of nurses are wanting to do that.

At first I mostly ignored her about it, but as I thought more, realized perhaps this might be a good idea. I cannot keep up the pace younger nurses have to, so this is good. On Alzheimer units, you have to slow down to how they move, and their speed of comprehension.

So please don't send condolences to daughters, Barb, at A Chelsea Morning, and Bev, at "Scratchin' the Surface", because their mom will now be a regular on this locked unit.

I love the changes from the past that I'm seeing there. Bedrooms are decorated individually, with lots of personal touches to remind them who they are. Pictures are posted to help with recognition. And a really nice oudoor area, all secure, of course, allows fresh air walks, or just places in the sun, to rest.

The activities department works with them much; encourages their long term memory, and other relating. They really get into music and art. It's so nice seeing someone break into song without being selfconscious about it. Someone started a movie, and as soon as its stars appeared, a few residents called out who they were.

The unit has a homey atmosphere. I counted three cats who've homesteaded there, and I noticed that a few of the residents, who must not be early risers, were allowed to sleep as late as they wanted to, and were given meals and medications after they got up.

Maybe some day more will be known, and can be done about Alzheimers. What I've seen is that their blood pressure and other vital signs are much better than other nursing home patients tend to be, and they generally live a long time, which I think says much about having less worry and stress.

The most difficult adjustment for me, I think, will be getting used to the twelve hour shifts, but because of them, will get more days off. After many years of having to rush so at work, I am still reminding myself that it's o.k that I'll be getting paid for just spending some time with these people, who so need a human touch.

Now that this computer is working again, I've been checking daughter, Bev's posts at "Scratchin' The Surface" almost daily, to see how her writings are coming along. This morning the brick decoration on her dining room wall pulled me toward it, as I read words she'd put there, about remembering our moments, and letting the years go by.

I was already heady, after reading about granddaughter Sarah finding her name in a brick at she and her family's new home. While I'm not real learned with all of the Bible, those words on Bev's wall kept me there awhile, reminding me of something in the Old Testament, something I think, about being faithful to God.

Kings and queens may leave their insignias on paper decrees, and those may be in history awhile. When God emphasizes His will and control of our lives, He may use simple things, like a dirt covered brick that's been setting somewhere a long, long time with a name on it, waiting for Sarah to find.

But back to the present, or is it the future; a day of not knowing quite what to do with myself, I get in the car, and soon am driving to a neighborhood I'd almost covered with memories of many years. If it wouldn't sound so crazy, or I wouldn't get arrested, I could almost rename part of the town "One woman's walk through life". When I am brave enough sometimes, I glance at my older form, and remember a decade or more of having lived there. Time spent in nurses training, and at the local college, and years I still don't want to believe I tossed away so easily.

As I let those memories go back where they belong, all I'm seeing there are pretty flowers pushing through the grounds, the clockworking of another Spring. Less kind seasons, summer's harsh heat bearing down, after winters, even blizzards of quiet supremacy their brutal beauty would deny.

A part of me wants to hold onto the pictures of it all in my mind, but I've already lingered there too long. Not quite certain, but determined to try, I wonder if it's possible to make a nostalgia for tomorrow. I smile a moment at the memories I don't want to let go, and head my car back home.

I am sitting here with my first morning coffee. All four of the little green lights on my new modem are in line, as if in the military, quietly awaiting commands.

Almost a month ago I was in this same place when the lights on this Dell and the modem suddenly shut down, and I felt a little like unplugging life supports must feel.

I didn't realize how much I depend on this wonderful invention. When I would hear something about the coming presidential election, I'd think I'd get more details from it, then remember that I couldn't, and a restlessness and not so quiet impatience would set in. When I read about how complaining the children in the wilderness became, I would think how unappreciative they were, and be glad I'm not like that. When asked what my best qualities are, almost always I enjoyed telling people what a patient person I am.

Obviously our Lord had some work to do on me, and not so obviously, He set out about it much differently that I would have. I think it began one frigid night when the driver's side car door lock froze, and when I shoved a heated key into it, the already improperly working little gremlin became just what God could use to show me my patience isn't as great as I want to believe it is.

The lock problem began about four weeks ago, and it's still not repaired. The mechanic couldn't even get that door open. He ordered the new parts, but so much is going on at work it is hard to correlate his work schedule and mine, and another week will go by before we can.

I am trying to see something good in this. and I think I found it in the back of my upper legs, and numbers on my bathroom scales. A week or so ago I noticed my legs kind of hurt back there ,and wondered if arthritis had set in, but one day I realized how much calisthenics I'm doing getting in and out of the car from the other side of it. Remembering to use the safety grab bar as I swing myself over the middle console thing has greatly improved my form.

But the most fun about this aggravating inconvenience is seeing the puzzled looks on other drivers' faces. The last time I was at the mechanic's shop, and trying to get out of the car, some little lady walking her restless little dog who was wrapping his leash around her skinny little legs, was so puzzled by it all, she couldn't quite figure it out. But I had already made a few stops on my way to the garage, and was fresh out of repeating: "My car door is broken." As I walked into the garage, she continued standing out there, staring at my car.

I hadn't weighed lately, and was more than a little smug this a.m. Without even trying, I've lost four pounds. I turned down a nursing job I just didn't feel O.K. about, and my son had more surgery, but is doing really well. Eventually the house repairs will get done. I really thought I was handling all these things rather well, but now understand that God really is in charge of even the small details of our lives, and that includes broken car door locks.

In checking family blogs, and those of other bloggers, I see that everybody has important things to deal with, but the most important of them all is little Cameron getting well. Compared to that, nothing, absolutely nothing else matters. Please keep praying for him.