Oh, My Aching Back

It started two years ago right after my recovery from cancer and the start of recovery from open heart surgery.

Backaches!

Late at night, I wake up tossing and turning with low back pain that just won’t go away. Sometimes, I find myself getting up at 2 a.m., taking a Tylenol, then going back to bed waiting for the pain to subside. Other times, I just give up and get up.

Last night was no different. This morning, I’m exhausted.

Stretching exercises don’t help. A second low dose Tylenol is temporary. The amount of medication I’m taking for my heart makes me cautious about taking too much Tylenol, and I refuse to take anything stronger.

So, here I sit on Saturday morning frustrated, tired, cranky, and ready to tell my doctors to get out of my life. There are way too many visits either virtual or in-person, and I just don’t want to do this anymore.

What’s the old saying? Life sucks and then you die.

I sure hope your day is going much better than mine.

Happy New Year!

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

The Ouija Board (A True Story)

The other night I had the strangest dream about a former online friend. It was very unsettling, and it made me wonder why in the world I would have such a tragic dream. Maybe it was the snack I had just before going to bed that brought on the bad dream. Or maybe it was a warning about something to come. At first I thought it had little to do with this blog, but now I’m wondering – did it?

When I was in college (a private college for women in Virginia), several of the girls in one particular dorm started playing around with a Ouija board. Each night they would gather around to ask this silly board all kinds of questions, and the next morning word would spread to the other dorms as to what the great Ouija had predicted the night before.

This went on for several weeks until one night the Ouija board predicted there was going to be a fire. It named the dorm and location where the fire would start, and it spelled out the names of those who would be hurt or die in the fire. Ouija also gave the date and time of the fire. Word spread like wild fire … no pun intended … and fear spread even faster.

The longer this prediction went on, the more concerned everyone became until finally administration stepped in, confiscated the Ouija board, and said that if another one was found on campus, the owner or owners would be sent home.

Too late, the damage had been done. One girl’s mother was a close friend of a very famous psychic who lived in New York City. She confirmed that we would indeed have a fire just as the Ouija board had predicted. As the date approached, the fear of what was to happen was beyond belief.

Parents started calling to ask if they should take their daughters out of school until the danger had passed. Some actually drove hundreds of miles to make arrangements for their daughters to sleep off campus on the night in question.

But the most unbelievable image of all was that of the town’s firefighters camped outside our windows, and firefighters stationed next to every fire alarm in every building to make certain no one pulled an alarm. Dorm mothers, faculty, and administrators walked the halls all night long to make sure no one left their rooms unless accompanied by a college official.

No one slept that night. We were all terrified. The dorm where the fire was predicted to start was emptied. All girls who didn’t go home or off campus were moved to other dorms, and because the fire was predicted to start in the kitchen (which was on the first floor of the named dorm), the fire department watched over that area all night long. Also, the local police department was present on campus throughout the night.

The time came and went and there was no fire. Thank God. The next morning we all dragged ourselves to our classes, and later that day we had an assembly. I seem to recall our president telling us that he was proud of the way we had handled the situation. He also told us that if anyone had a Ouija board or was even thinking about bringing one on campus that they would be expelled for good, never to return again.

The next week there was a rumor that a Ouija board had been smuggled into another dorm, but no one wanted anything to do with it.

The End.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

Stella

“Do not wait for leaders;
do it alone, person-to-person.”
Mother Teresa (Albanian nun, 1910-1997)

Stella was Polish, a devout Catholic, married to a man named Frank, and they had two sons. I don’t believe either son lived to reach the age of 50. Later in life, Frank started to lose his eyesight, and then he went blind.

The son of a family they knew, an older adult with a disability, became too much for his own family to handle. Rather than sending him to a care facility, Stella and Frank took him in to live with them.

With every sadness, every obstacle, every lemon handed to Stella made her more determined than ever to help others. She never stopped working for those less fortunate … the poor. She was always collecting clothes, food, house goods, etc. If you had something to donate, Stella would take it and make good use of it. Frank was a carpenter, and he was great at making repairs to most anything.

Stella would prepare meals for those who had no one to help them. She took people to all kinds of appointments, the pharmacy, the grocery store, or she shopped for them. She never stopped doing for others.

Going to church was the only time Stella slowed down. She loved the Lord, and she loved going to church.

One year, Stella went to Rome with a group from her church, and she met the Pope. I kid you not, Stella met the Pope. If anyone should have met the Pope it was Stella. When she returned home and talked about her trip, you could tell she had been humbled by the honor. Stella was more determined than ever to help the needy.

Stella passed away a many years ago at the age of 93. She lived a full life doing for others; oftentimes, doing it alone. She never waited for someone to tell her to start or stop. Stella had the compassion and drive and determination to see that others didn’t go without.

To me, Stella was a living saint. Everyone who knew her was changed in some way and always for the better.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.