October Awareness

Most of us think of October as the month that ushers in fall, even though it began in September. The skies can be crisp, clear blue with cotton ball clouds or gray and brooding. Trees across the northern hemisphere change. We anticipate celebration. October has long been one of my favorite months and especially since my first born arrived on the 10th.

Did you know that October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month? Have you done your self breast exam? Have you been squished with a mammogram lately? Even though there have been conflicting study reports recently on their effectiveness, I won't be stopping. Too many people I know found their breast cancer through self exams and mammograms.

My job-share nurse friend Michelle has now survived breast cancer about 15 years! Praise God! My friend Betty Boop did not survive; God chose to heal her in Heaven. Elaine battled bravely for more than ten years. She taught God's Word boldly, shared His love gently and LIVED every moment she was on earth. Two of my grand Aunts... Mickie and Betty, battled twice, succumbing to cancers secondary to their breast cancer. And in case you are a man or you love a man, don't think men are excluded. A friend of my Hubby's has an ongoing battle with breast cancer and HIS name is Ed. Probably everyone reading this could list at least one person they know who has battled breast cancer.



Do not be afraid. Be Aware. Be Educated. Do Exams. Do Mammograms. Encourage a cancer fighter and PRAY!

Did you also know that October is also Down Syndrome Awareness Month? This was news to me until I read Sherri's blog. This month she is posting "31 for 21" which is a post for each of the days of October for Down Syndrome Awareness because Down Syndrome effects Chromosome 21.

If you ever wondered what it would be like to find out that you have a child with Down Syndrome you should read Welcome To Holland, Sherri's October 1st post. Sherri's posts about her "Imp" as she calls him for anonymity purposes always delight me. I'm sure that I am seeing the sunshine and not the shadow, but her family has been an amazing picture of love as they have surrounded this young man and raised him together. I found Sherri's blog when I was just "surfing" one day and followed a link, but I came back and stayed because of her posts on the Imp.

I cannot even begin to imagine what it would be like to experience this myself, but I have a huge heart for "special needs" kids. When I was done with high school before high school was done, I volunteered in a special education pre-school that was part of my school district, working with children ages 3-10 of varying diagnoses. Several had Down Syndrome. I looked into teaching special education but after 3.5 years in college dismissed teaching altogether. That must be one of God's little chuckles considering what I do now! lol

One of the jobs I had in college was respite care for a little girl with cerebral palsy. After college I worked as a Certified Medical Assistant for ten years, most of which was pediatrics. In pediatrics you see the whole gamut of population and it is probably the most varied specialty in medicine. I loved so many of my patients and enjoyed working with parents to meet their children's needs. Sometimes we had to be advocates for the parent and/or child with the school district, insurance company or other agencies and it was something I found fulfilling - sticking up for the "underdog". Maybe I should have pursued social work, though my tender heart would probably have been in a permanent state of brokenness!

My heart for the "special needs" person began at an early age, long before these experiences in life.

L to R: Winnifred Lucy Kirkland Tisdale, Dorothy Winnifred Tisdale (front), Holly Mable Tisdale Hopkins, Fred Tisdale, Clifton K. Tisdale and Homer K. Tisdale about 1913.

My Grandma Hopkins' little sister, "Aunt Dorothy" did not have Down Syndrome. About 1918 she was thrown out of a Model T Ford in a car accident. To her dying day she was afraid of cars and always asked if you were a good driver and if you ever had an accident! She suffered a severe brain injury in the accident and never attained full mental maturity. After 2nd or 3rd grade, she left school and lived at home. For awhile some attempts were made to help her live on her own, but events that I don't know or understand about made this impossible. In the 60s it was popular to treat anything related to the brain with electric shock treatment, which Aunt Dorothy received at a state mental hospital. All of my life she lived in nursing homes.

This photograph was taken about 1918 and by her searching expression, I can't help but wonder if this wasn't taken after the accident. L to R, Homer Tisdale, my Grandma Holly Tisdale Hopkins, Dorothy Winnifred Tisdale, Fred Tisdale, Winnifred Kirkland Tisdale and Clifton Tisdale.

Mother and daughters, probably in the 1930s - Winnifred Kirkland Tisdale, Holly Tisdale Hopkins, Dorothy Winnifred Tisdale. (Mom, the dress Grandma is wearing reminds me of the one you wore for Grandma's memorial service 60 or 70 years later!)

I always knew that Aunt Dorothy was "different" and that she needed special help, but she was part of the family and was very loved and welcomed. Many times she spent a few days with us over Thanksgiving or Christmas. My Mom who self admittedly is not a "nurse", was always so gentle and caring with her. A day or so away from the nursing home and she became alive! Likely they had her medicated to zombie status so that they wouldn't have to deal with anything more than they wanted to. Looking back, some of those times where family were all gathered together and she stayed with us were some of the happiest.

Many people look at Aunt Dorothy, or probably the Imp or other special needs people and think they are stupid, don't get it, are annoying, ignorant, embarrassing... fill in the blank. Aunt Dorothy had spunk, a great sense of humor, was playful, collected dolls, souvenir spoons and her favorite color was yellow. She enjoyed beautiful jigsaw puzzles and in her 80s had a "boyfriend" in the nursing home. "He's an Indian!" she would whisper, having grown up in a time when that would be scandalous!

When we first came to our church, it was Christmas and there taking part publicly in the service was B.M. who has Cerebral Palsy. I held my breath subconsciously and looked around for others' reactions, being used to seeing people's embarrassment and non acceptance. To my surprise no one appeared any different than they should. Here was a person who in the world's eyes is "disabled" and unable to participate on their level, taking part in a "normal" part of the church service. Even in church circles, this is sadly, not common. Right then and there I knew it was a fit! Later I would learn that we have wonderful family in our church whose son N also has Down Syndrome. One day his Daddy shared a testimony of their discovering that N had Downs, their grief and how much they have grown in love and faith by being blessed to be his parents. N is like a little evangelist and must have the gift of hospitality. He walks through the halls, passes out tracts and greets people.



Top: my grand Aunt Elaine Horstman Hopkins (the only one living from this picture), my grand Uncle Philip Sedgewick Hopkins. (I'm not sure if they were married at this time or not. On the Right side: Winnifred Kirkland Tisdale and Homer Tisdale.

On the bottom, my Grandparents George "Alden" Hopkins and Holly Tisdale Hopkins (Grandma was never fat, so I think this may have been taken in 1934 when she was pg with my Aunt Grace.) Left side: Aunt Dorothy Winnifred Tisdale and Fred Tisdale.

Awareness is a good thing. Be aware that people who are different are not necessarily ignorant to what is going on around them, that they are people too, not inanimate objects, that they share the same needs, wants and desires that we all do and that they deserve to be treated with respect.

The next time you see a parent struggling with a special needs child, you might ask if they would like some assistance (if it is appropriate). Also, don't be afraid to hug (if appropriate), shake hands, encourage, pray with and share God's love with them. It's not likely that they will come up to you and ask for help, but a kind and genuine offer is appreciated even if it is not always practical to accept it. And if you see injustice, please speak up. It takes a coward to make fun of someone different than them. Sometimes we need to stand up for the rights of those who do not know how to do it for themselves.

So, in light of awareness month, if you know someone with Down Syndrome, breast cancer or other special needs, please say a prayer for them and maybe see how you can help! You will be greatly blessed.

I miss you Aunt Dorothy! Thank you for teaching me to see people with my heart!

Traveling Down Memory Lane

Andrew Glick

July 3, 1924 - April 30, 1984

( Andy is on the right with his best friend from childhood, Ray Braun, overlooking the Pacific Coast in Southern California.)




As I have shared in the past, there have been many grievous losses in my life. Andy, in retrospect, was in my life for a short time, but made a large impact. When my Mom first told me she was going to marry him, I was not really thrilled. We had been hurt and abused by my father and another man. I wasn't up for more of the same. Initially, I tried to push him away. As an adult I can see that I was probably a huge pain in the back side, but hopefully he understood that I was a ten year old whose heart had been squashed and broken into a million pieces. Gradually we began to build a life together and we lived as a "real" family. FAMILY. That's a big word for a lot of people. A strange word for a lot of people. I have clung to this verse, Psalm 68:6a...

6 God sets the lonely in families,

he leads forth the prisoners with singing;

Over time we loved, lived and laughed together and built a home. We took trips, we played games, we had parties and house guests and family gatherings. Our family expanded to include his loving family from North Dakota. I felt connected. I didn't realize it at the time, but some of what I was feeling for the first time was STABILITY.

Andy encouraged me, he taught me, he often overlooked my errors, but he never let me get away with a character flaw.

This is where we lived from 1977-1986. I had never lived in one place for so long! That little Ford Courier is what I drove in college.

Mom and Andy on their anniversary. What you can't read is the cake that says "Happy Anniversary Ruth, Andy, Theresa".

That's me with Andy, probably 8th grade, circa 1979. We are at Cannon Beach in Oregon.

Pies for Thanksgiving... Andy taught me how to make them!

Andy was born into a German American family in Richardton, North Dakota. He had a heart condition since childhood but that didn't stop him from running away on a freight train when he was 13. He later joined the CCC and served in the US Navy for WWI at the Pacific and in Korea. Top of his head was clean as a whistle. He said his hair all fell out after a fever in the Pacific, which it might have, however, having known two of his brothers, I find it likely he would have ended up there anyway! LOL

For much of his younger years Andy struggled with alcohol, which separated him from his family and nearly took his life more than once. He participated in AA and by the time we met him, he had been "dry" for many years. Andy often worked as a bartender for his friend's restaurant because he liked to help the guys who struggled. We always had notes he had written on cocktail napkins and coasters around the house. He distinctively printed in all upper case letters, but also had strong, neat handwriting. His main job was as a construction foreman for companies who put in sewer and water lines. He told me that if he could have changed things growing up, he said he would have liked to have become a pediatrician. Children were always attracted to him and his sparkly blue eyes.

It was because of Andy's German heritage that I took German four years in high school and three years in college. Through that experience I met Jutta, my German pen pal who came to visit in 1982, 1997 and 1999 and I visited her in 1984 and 1995. We are due for another visit! :o)

I miss his laugh and how he covered his face with his enormous fingers as he nearly cried, he laughed so hard. I miss his big bear hugs. I miss that he believed in me even when I didn't deserve it and even when no one else really saw who I was. I miss the way he smelled... clean and with aftershave. I miss his sense of adventure and delight - coming home with a stray puppy, once a St. Bernard - getting in the truck and driving, almost not stopping until we got to North Dakota, and traveling to Disneyland even though he was 59 and probably wasn't that interested himself!

Our trip to Disneyland during spring break of 1984, was our last adventure. A few weeks later, we got a call from the hospital about 45 minutes away. They told us not to rush. My heart sank. I knew he was gone. He suffered from a massive heart attack at work. Ironically over the next year my Mom was in a career change class with the guy who had done CPR on him. He had worked hard on him, but the heart attack had been quick and fatal. I will never forget that journey to the hospital, our experiences there or the days following.

Six weeks later I graduated from high school and a couple weeks later, I continued on with my plans to go to Germany to see Jutta. My university plans were cancelled and I stayed home to attend Everett Community College. Mom and I spent a lot of time grieving on Whidbey Island, Deception Pass, Mukilteo and La Push, Washington.

In 1977, I gave my heart to Jesus, but because my family, at that time did not attend church, I had only been reading my Bible on my own and attending youth group when my friend Lynette's family took me. That change that brought me to EvCC also brought me to a new campus ministry and young people who shared the same faith. One of the young guys had lost his father too and it was a comfort to know that I was not the only one going through the feelings I was having. Some of the people from that group are still my friends 24 years later. Actually... one of them married my Mom! LOL

During my grieving, I learned to turn my dependence for security, stability and strength from Andy to God. And because, in Andy, I had an example of how a good person could be an alcoholic, and overcome... I decided to look up my Dad. It was a long process, but my Dad and I were able to build back up a relationship. By the time my Daddy died, we were close. I don't know for sure if Andy knew God, but I believe he did. One of my memories is listening to Billy Graham Crusades. He never moved to turn the channel (no remotes back then!), but listened intently.

Today I miss him. The grief never totally goes away. This man who clothed me, fed me, loved me, nurtured me, sang Kenny Rogers with me in the pick up truck and smiled with a mischievous gleam in his eye... left to soon!

Still, I can see God's hand in our lives, how He made beauty from ashes and took these difficult circumstances and molded character and strength.

Thank you Lord for the blessing of Andy in our lives!

Danny Boy

Daniel Albin Johnson

12/4/1967 to 5/1/1973

35 years later, I would think it would get easier, but it does not. The day he left this earth, sunshine left the room and my heart was broken. God heals the raw pain, but the hole is still there. I do not dwell on it, but some days the grief comes in waves when I least expect it.

So many times lately I have looked at my children and wished I could share them with him. Maybe because my son is about the same age as I was when he left and my girls are almost the same age as him. My brother and I were 17.5 months apart and so were my children. I couldn't get the scanner to scan these photocopies of 126 black and white photos, so I photographed them quickly to share. Sorry for the blurry pics.


This photo is probably Christmas 1968, Danny and I with Grandpa and Grandma Johnson - can you see how he holds my finger. We were pretty close right from the start.

This is at my Grandparents' lot on the Skykomish River, probably 1969. Danny is drinking a pop. My Dad drove pop delivery trucks so we often had wooden cases of pop in glass bottles that went camping with us. It was not something we normally had so it seemed a neat treat at the time.

This joyful smile is what I remember because most of the time he was like this. He had an even tempered nature. It was usually me that had the temper or stubbornness!

This is 1970, since my cousin, the baby was born late 1969. That's Grandma Hopkins holding her and me with my arm around my brother. This is in the parking lot at Paradise at Mount Rainier National Park. I would have been about 4 and Danny 2 1/2 years old.

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Holly Mabel Tisdale Hopkins

June 10, 1906 - January 16, 2002

Bark! Bark! Bark!

No, we did not acquire a dog this weekend! 4 out of 5 L's have been surveyed and they have croup! Lucky Daddy is not sick and is enjoying a great men's retreat in the redwoods with a trip yesterday to the coast. We can't wait to see him when he comes home today! :-)

And I also received the saddest of all kinds of news this weekend. I have written before about my good friend Laura who died last September. Her son and his girlfriend were expecting twin boys in a couple weeks. The Mom was further along than I was when I delivered my twins; she had cramping and went in and they sent her home. She had more pain the next day and they discovered that both boys had smothered to death because of something wrong with the placenta. A C-section was performed to remove them. Losing a child at any time, for any reason is really the hardest of all griefs, or so I am told by those who know. Little Hayden and Spencer were bringing joy and hope into a grieving family that was still reeling from one loss and now a year later they have two more. My heart is broken for them. Please pray for this family, especially that they will draw close to Him. Thank you.

For all of you that I owe email replies to, I'm sorry I am so behind. I'm trying to catch up.

I'm Still Missing You

Daniel Eugene Johnson

September 13, 1945 - September 24, 2000

I love you Daddy!

Photo on 1st birthday 1946

In Memory...

I'm sure that most of us can remember where we were or what we were doing 6 years ago today. I know it's hard for those who survived or those who lost to believe that life goes on for the rest of us. That's the way that grief is. What they probably don't realize is that even if you lost your loved one in a "normal" way, you would have that same feeling! I know I do. Sometimes it is hard for me to talk to other friends that Laura and I shared and not see their hearts wrenched by her absence. Don't they remember? Don't they miss her? Of course they do, but life seems to march on. We should not forget. But we should also not dwell on death. We look at death as the end. But, for believers in Christ, it is really on a beginning, or a transition into our true life, into the life for which we were created. I love this quote from the late Dr. D. James Kennedy, who went Home to the Lord last week:

“Now, I know that someday I am going to come to what some people will say is the end of this life. They will probably put me in a box and roll me right down here in front of the church, and some people will gather around, and a few people will cry. But I have told them not to do that because I don’t want them to cry. I want them to begin the service with the Doxology and end with the Hallelujah chorus, because I am not going to be there, and I am not going to be dead. I will be more alive than I have ever been in my life, and I will be looking down upon you poor people who are still in the land of dying and have not yet joined me in the land of the living. And I will be alive forevermore, in greater health and vitality and joy than ever, ever, I or anyone has known before.” --Dr. D. James Kennedy, 1930-2007

So, if you pray, please say a prayer for those who are on a grief journey from this tragic disaster or other losses. Please also pray for the family of Amy Wilhoite, a beautiful young Mom who lost her battle with Leukemia yesterday. She leaves behind a husband and a young toddler son and many others who love her. Today she lives and walks in Ultimate Healing with her Creator!

Still Missing You...

One year ago today, Laura flew to Jesus. I cannot wish her back to pain, to earthly sorrow and away from the Savior she served with all her heart and mind and soul and strength. I am at peace. I rejoice in my son's salvation, which grew from seeds she planted. And, I thank God for her presence in our lives. She is a gift and is indelibly written on our hearts. Our lives march on without you Laura dear. We are learning and growing and playing. Little by little the wound of your absence becomes less tender. I know you can't read these words, but I write them for my own grief. I love you and I miss you and I thank you. I rejoice with you because there is victory in Jesus and no earthly cares, nor the enemy, nor even Cancer can steal that JOY from you! We all miss you!