Take My Hand Again

What a Wonderful World

March 29, 2019 by Nancy 14 Comments

As our world begins to come to life with all the beauties and promises of springtime, I’m reminded of a song that holds special meaning for me. A month before my mom passed away in 2008 I was visiting her in Tennessee. The assisted living facility where she lived often had live music events in their dining hall, and my mother loved to attend them. Since one was scheduled while I was there, we went!

Men were in short supply, so the ladies often danced alone or with one another. With the first strains of “What a Wonderful World,” the song made famous by Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong, Mom turned to me and said, “Let’s dance!” We did, and I’m forever grateful for that memory.

May the lyrics to the song remind you, too, that there is still so much beauty, so much wonder in our world to celebrate! And so much for which to be grateful to the Lord who created it all (John 1:3).

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people goin’ by
I see friends shakin’ hands, sayin’
“How do you do?”
They’re really sayin’,
“I love you.”

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world

Listen to Louis sing it here!

Songwriter: Doug Dipreta
© BMG Rights Management, Concord Music Publishing LLC

Who Comes to Book Signings?

January 28, 2019 by Nancy 18 Comments

Unless you are John Grisham or on trial for murdering your spouse with a dull spoon, the answer to the title question is “not many people at all.” Only a few times in my twenty plus years as an author have I had actual lines forming to obtain my signature, and then only when I’ve had a chance to speak first. But regardless, I packed up my low expectations and gratefully accepted an invitation to have a signing at the Barnes & Noble in Pueblo, CO, recently.

Was it a wasted afternoon? Not at all. How encouraging it was to walk in and see two of my titles, Take My Hand Again and The Hope of Glory, all piled up and waiting on a cloth-covered table by the door. Friendly employees offered a comfortable chair and any assistance I needed. Then I sat expectantly.

I did think most visitors to my table would be human, but was delighted when the first one to show any interest at all was a young golden doodle. She didn’t want to read the books, but didn’t chew on any either, so that was good. I loved seeing her pink bows.

At one point in the afternoon I thought I should check to see if someone had posted a sign on the front of the table reading, “Leave your best advice here.” First a gentleman stopped to peruse my books, then looked at me and asked, “Are you a Christian lady?” “Yes, I am,” I replied. “Well, do you know what EGO stands for?” he asked. “Edging God Out. We all have the power of the Holy Spirit in us but we don’t always tap into it because of our egos.” I agreed with him and he wandered off.

Next I was approached by a woman who also took the time to look at both books before offering, “Life’s a journey. We shouldn’t focus too much on the past or we’ll miss the present and the future.” Good advice, that.

The two visitors I enjoyed the most, however, were two older ladies who wandered by looking for a place to sit while their families shopped. I was happy to stand for a while, and they were happy to sit and visit.

The first woman, Faith, had owned an independent bookstore in Pueblo for years before retiring in her eighties. She cheerfully predicted a swing back to a preference for hard cover books, and her parting advice was that whatever our political persuasions, we should all write Congress hand-written letters—“the only ones that make a difference!”

And then there was the guest that made the whole afternoon worthwhile. Sadie accepted my offer of the chair as soon as she entered the store with her husband, daughter and son-in-law. “I don’t know why,” she said, “but when you turn 90 things just start going to pot. My feet hurt and I can’t shop like I used to.” Over the 30 minutes or so she kept me company, we shared details of our lives. She told me she was born in the US but raised in Mexico, returning to Pueblo in the Seventies. She and her husband of 72 years have 10 children, 30 grandchildren, and wait for it, 94 great and great-great grandchildren! I sheepishly told her that my first great grandchild was due any day.

Sharing that she couldn’t read my books due to macular degeneration, Sadie said, “I accept whatever the good Lord sends, but sometimes it makes me sad.” It made me sad, too.

While Sadie was sitting in my author chair, a young woman and her family entered the store. “Grandma!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Sadie rose to give hugs punctuated with kisses on both cheeks to the girl, her husband, and her son. They went off to shop. Sadie sat down, turned to me and said, “I know that’s one of my granddaughters, but I can’t remember her name.” Understandable. When Sadie’s daughter came to reclaim her, she cleared up the confusion. I got a Sadie hug, we said our goodbyes, and they left.

I did sell two books to other shoppers that afternoon, but driving home I realized that the Lord hadn’t sent me there to sell books, just to remember why I wrote books for the elderly and those who care for them in the first place. It was an afternoon well spent…and a success in that not a single person asked me if I knew where the bathroom was.

Stairway to Heaven

July 26, 2018 by Nancy 16 Comments

I’ve climbed the beautiful, spiral staircase at the assisted living community where I volunteer many times without thinking of it as the stairway to heaven. But for some reason, today as I climbed from the first floor with its lovely entryway, library and dining room, to the second floor with the activity room where we have The Hope of Glory Bible study, that’s exactly what came to mind.

Maybe my long-term memory was activated by being in the presence of those older than I who cherish this intact part of their brains, and I was reminded of the prom theme we had my junior year in high school. Two by two couples lined up for the coveted prom photo. Girls in long satin dresses boasting wrist corsages leaned in to boys in brown suits sporting their father’s ties. Behind each couple was the backdrop the prom committee painted on butcher paper of a long spiral staircase. Glittery letters at the top read, “Stairway to Heaven.”

Of course, our idea of heaven in the Sixties was a really hot date and getting to stay out later than usual to go to the after parties, or the less sanctioned parties held on the banks of a Tennessee lake. Gratefully, it’s not this temporal, somewhat carnal, concept of heaven that I show up to talk about to the assisted living residents. Rather it’s the gospel truth that we won’t have to climb the 21 steps I counted today to get to heaven, or even take the optional elevator! It’s the message that there’s only one step needed, belief in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

Most of the residents at this facility, lovely as it is, are there because they need help of some kind—either due to physical impairment or loss of mental acuity. Although they don’t dwell on this fact, the blessed among them realize that their next destination is heaven. Together we explore how this late season of life in which they find themselves is still life, and that God has a purpose for them as long as they have breath. Then they will enjoy eternal life with Him!

It could be because I’ve been to two memorial services within a week that I’m reflecting on heaven now. Both were for women who lived long, full lives, leaving behind memories of stories told, quilts made, meals served, grandchildren cherished, and husbands adored. Hearing about their lives, and their strong Christian faith shared through generations, makes every remaining minute of my life seem more valuable to me somehow—more primed with possibility. They ran their races well, leaving me with a longing to make any time I have left count for something—especially for those things that are small in the eyes of the world, but large in the eyes of heaven.

In my book, Take My Hand Again, I talk about how hard it was to say goodbye to the assisted living residents I came to love through our time in Bible study, and today I was reminded that I’m still vulnerable to that kind of heartache. And I’m not alone. I just finished the engaging book A Dog Walks into a Nursing Home by Sue Halpern, who also grew fond of the residents she took her dog, Pransky, to visit each week. The author recalls standing at a distance at the graveside service of a friend and resident named Fran because she had the lovable labradoodle with her. She stood amazed as she saw all the people who gathered to honor the woman she and Pransky had only come to know and love in her last years. They had no idea how many lives Fran’s had touched, they only knew she had touched theirs.

Love hurts, but it’s always worth it. And there’s this stairway to heaven, where the loss and pain of aging is no more! There we will celebrate together all the love we’ve received, and all the love we’ve given away.

The Hope of Glory, A Devotional Guide for Older Adults, and Take My Hand Again, A Faith-based Guide for Helping Older Parents, are both available on Amazon.com.

Carol, Agnes, and the Love of Purses

April 21, 2018 by Nancy 14 Comments

Once again I’m pleased to feature fellow LPC author Carol G. Heilman in my “Take My Hand Again” blog. Carol has written two books about the antics of Agnes Hopper, an assisted living resident who gets into all sorts of scrapes and situations. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Agnes in Agnes Hopper Shakes Up Sweetbriar and look forward to catching up with her in Agnes Bets on Murder. (Find both at Amazon.com.) Meet Carol, and then enjoy her blog post about Agnes and her love of purses!

Meet Carol
Carol Heilman, a coal miner’s daughter, married her high school sweetheart, a farmer’s son. She began writing family stories, especially about her dad’s Appalachian humor, for newspapers and magazines. One day her mother said, “We don’t have any secrets anymore!” Her book series on Agnes Hopper (see above) was inspired by her mother’s spunky spirit and her dad’s humor. She has recently moved, along with her husband of fifty-plus years, from the mountains of NC to Charleston, SC. They love to play cards, go antiquing, hike, and visit grandsons on the east and west coasts.

The Love of Purses
Pocketbooks, handbags, purses–whatever you call them, they are essential items in most women’s wardrobes.

I have a collection of old ones that I hold dear. The largest tapestry one, as well as the tiny beaded one, belonged to my great grandmother. Mother’s oldest sister carried the soft black purse. I found the black one with the silver handle in an antique shop.

Agnes Marie Hopper, the main character in my books, also loves purses. She found her favorite, a red-leather one soft as a baby’s behind, in a garage sale. She carries it everywhere, even to the retirement home’s front porch where she rocks and knits and tries to straighten out her tangled thoughts.

Agnes always has a Cox Brothers Funeral Home fan resting in an outside pocket of her big purse. The small southern town of Sweetbriar can be sultry hot, just like that July day when she moved to The Manor. Only on that day, when she needed it the most, her fan had seemed to vanish.

Agnes once told her daughter, Betty Jo, “Every woman ought to have a rain bonnet, a fan, headache powder, and a clean hanky in her purse at all times.”

Do you have a favorite purse?
Why is it your favorite?
What does it look like?
Is it old or new?
What items do you think are essential to carry?

Thankful Living

November 22, 2017 by Nancy 12 Comments

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.—Psalm 100:4-5

We live in a society that makes it easier to grumble than to be grateful. We have to move someplace we never really wanted to live, and so we grumble. We are disappointed that the political candidate we support isn’t elected, and so we grumble. Daily aggravations can produce grumbling as well: scheduled visits are cancelled, we have to wait for a doctor’s appointment, we look forward to a meal only to be faced with a surly server. All these things and more give us opportunities to grumble.

We even feel justified in our grumbling, don’t we? If we come from the misguided assumption that life should be fair, then grumbling is a given. But what if we change our assumption and our thinking? What if we begin to look, each and every day, not for reasons to grumble, but for reasons to be grateful? What if we could establish a habit of thankful living?

Ann Voscamp wrote a book titled One Thousand Gifts which began as a challenge from a friend to write down 1,000 blessings in her life. Ann’s list far exceeded 1,000 blessings once she opened her eyes to all that was around her. Can we do it? Can we begin to look for opportunities to be grateful rather than opportunities to grumble? Certainly keeping our eyes on God is a good place to start. Ann wrote in her blog, “We will give thanks to God not because of how we feel, but because of who He is.” Let us give thanks.

Can we do it? Can we even convert a life of habitual grumbling into a life of thankful living? With God’s help, and by keeping our focus on Him, we can. Certainly not all of us are grumblers, but all of us can be more aware of the blessings that are ours.

The older we grow, the more blessings we have in our blessings accounts. We enter into a life of thankful living when we spend more time remembering our blessings than fretting about what we don’t have now. For example, those of us blessed to be parents and grandparents can easily find ourselves wishing we could spend more time with those we love, but just the very existence of those people in our families is a blessing, isn’t it?

A woman having breakfast with her husband at a restaurant entered into a discussion with their waitress and found out the waitress was excited about leaving to visit her grandchildren the next day. “How old are they?” the woman asked. “They are six and eight,” the waitress replied. “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?” the woman inquired. “Oh, I’ve never seen them,” the waitress answered. Certainly that puts having to go weeks or months without seeing those we love into perspective, doesn’t it?

Paul wrote his letter to the Christians in Philippi, the Book of Philippians in the Bible, while he was in prison in Rome. Certainly Paul had much to grumble about. He was falsely accused and unfairly imprisoned. Yet the Book of Philippians is known as the book of joy! In spite of his circumstances, Paul was able to write a message of joy because of the certainty of his faith in Jesus Christ. His joy and gratitude were based on the eternity he knew was waiting for him, not on the prison cell around him.

We can have the same attitude of gratitude that sustained Paul. We can experience the joy of thankful living by focusing on all that God has done for us—and on our eternal life to come. As Thanksgiving comes this year, let us say along with Paul, “I thank my God” (Philippians 1:3).

(Excerpted in part from The Hope of Glory, Volume Two, publication date TBD.)

Retired & Inspired

April 27, 2017 by Nancy 22 Comments

No matter how many articles I read saying Baby Boomers can’t or won’t retire, it seems quite a few of us are! Friends and acquaintances seem to be canceling their commutes, rolling over their 401Ks, and wearing more comfortable shoes at a fairly regular pace. Baby Boomers are retiring, but we’re doing it with a bit more inspiration, and a lot more activity, than past generations.

The Boomers probably haven’t held one job through out their careers but several, with a few entrepreneurial adventures (like giving up a good-paying job to be a freelance writer!) along the way. We still appreciate the classic retirement stories, however.

Driving down a street in Colorado Springs I was captivated by this sign in the window of a shuttered barber shop: “Sorry, the Barber Shop is CLOSED. After 54 years, I have retired. To all my customers, THANK YOU!” It was simply signed, “Benny.”

I never met Benny, don’t know him at all, but I’m so proud of him and wish him well. Can you imagine the number of lives he touched in 54 years of working as a barber? How many military haircuts did he give to brave, young soldiers? How many teenage suiters did he make presentable for their proms? How many businessmen felt more confident after a little time spent with Benny? Think of how the topics of conversation, the political debates, and even the jokes would have changed over 54 years. A lot of life was lived out in that small shop. And the world was improved one head of hair at a time. Job well done, Benny!

Mary and her husband Bob at Flying Horse.

Another retirement story caught my eye, this time the work span was 57 years. The Associated Press reported that a man named Mel, living in Gloversville, NY, delivered newspapers for The Leader-Herald. He delivered 220 to 300 newspapers a day, seven days a week, for 57 consecutive years before retiring at age 87. That’s more than five million papers! I think we can also say to Mel, job well done.

I don’t know how Benny and Mel plan to spend their retirement years, but for the Boomers there may not be a rocking chair in sight. This spring both my sister and my husband are entering into stages of retirement. My sister Mary left the residential construction company she founded and managed for almost 30 years. Whenever she wants to revisit her work life, all she has to do is drive around Knoxville, TN, and admire the many beautiful custom homes she built. She’s still waiting to see what her retirement will look like, but I’m sure it will include service to others, grandkids, and golf.

And then there’s my husband, Jim, who hits a milestone birthday on April 30 and simultan- eously retires from a significant portion of the business he has built over 33 years of self-employment. He will still continue with another segment of his business, and will maintain an office routine (whew!), but I’m excited to see what more free time will bring. I hope his semi-retirement includes more travel, more golf, and more personal ministry. Having watched him “self-motivate” day after day, with no boss to prod him nor employees to support him, I stand amazed and proud of him for the wonderful living he has made for us. My admiration, gratitude, and love overflow.

And me? Well, here’s the thing. When you are a writer, that’s just what you are, not your job. Someday I may be a little old lady scratching out poems on napkins in coffee shops, but I’m pretty sure I’ll always be writing something. It’s a good life. And now it’s one that affords me plenty of time to embrace anything else life has to offer. God willing, I’ll just join in with the other Boomers who are retired and inspired, but far from expired!