The Week of The Letter And The MRI

Mike and I received a hand-written letter last week. Do you remember receiving those? In the summer of my eigth grade we moved from our hometown of Brawley, California to Fresno.  I kept in contact with my old friends and past boyfriends through hand-written letters. We had telephones, but long-distance phone calls were an added expense, so we wrote letters. I still have a handful of letters stashed away. I got rid of letters from this young man who wanted to be my boyfriend but never was. His letters were about all the killings taking place in Vietnam. I was too young  and immature to understand the complexity of the war, and the letters were a bit too graphic for my taste. Besides, my brother was fighting in Vietnam, so this young man’s letters about blowing up people disturbed me and caused me to worry about my brother. He would always conclude the letters with a sweet farewell that expressed how much he cared for me and that he could not wait to get home to see me.

I saved  one letter from my childhood best friend. She was so funny and so intelligent; her letters aways brought a broad smile to my face.  I would read her letters over and over again. I looked up my old buddy on Facebook, but it seems that she lives a quiet, private life. I pray that she reads this Blog because she was so important to me in my formative years. She had an old soul and I loved being around her. I struggled in school because of a learning disability that went undetected until I entered college. I can imagine all the misspelled words and incorrect punctuation marks in the letters I wrote to her. She was brilliant and sailed through school with straight “A’s.” We would talk for hours, climb trees and enjoy the simple things in life by attempting to be normal little girls. In many ways we escaped our own family problems by just keeping each other company.

The Letter

The letter that Mike and I received was totally unexpected. It was hand written in black ink on a sheet of typing paper 8.5 X 11 inches. Both sides of the paper were used. The message was personal, thanking us for being so supportive during a the hard time in this young girl’s life. I had no idea that she was going through a difficult time. Mike and I did what we do naturally; we welcomed this beautiful heart in our home and extended our love. We did this for all of our children’s friends, but this young lady does, and will always, hold a special place in our hearts. We never pried into her personal life because to us she was part of our family. She went on family vacations with us because she became part of our clan. We had no idea that we had such an impact on her life. She was part of every aspect of our life: she witnessed heated arguments; saw is us in our best and worst behavior. That’s when you realize that someone is family, when you don’t hold back emotions. Our family attended her beautiful wedding, but when they moved upstate it was as if a chapter in our lives was left unfinished. She was a new mom with two children of her own, and Mike and I were busy grandparents. It was a blessing to meet her children about four years ago. I praise God that all is well with her, and I wish her and her beautiful family many years of blessings. She will forever remain our daughter because our love for her will forever be in our hearts. I will keep this letter and read it multiple times.

Making a Difference

We all have an opportunity to make a difference in others lives’. It does not take much to love. Depending on the Bible version, love is mentioned anywhere from 479 -759 times. Hate, on the other hand, is mentioned in the Bible less than 300 times. Loving is an extension of God; if we could all comprehend His love for us, we would be in a better place. In a world of hate, love will always supersede because it’s the divine nature of God to instill in us His great hand of love. We are truly engrafted in His bloodline; when we fill the needs of others without knowing that there was a need, God will guide us to do the right thing.

On the same day of  receiving the letter, I had an appointment for an MRI. This letter alleviated my apprehension about undergoing  procedure.

The MRI

I’m not sick, but I did have to go through a brain MRI. MRI stands for magnetic resonance imaging. My daughter took me by the hand and did all the footwork for this procedure. I had to answer a battery of questions, but when the subject of tatoos came up, I told Sonja, “No! I don’t have any tattoos!” She grabbed the clipboard away from me and checked YES! I quickly grabbed it back and wrote in parentheses (for cosmetic purposes only). So now every one in the hospital knows that I’m tatted!

After the age of 65 the MRI may become your unwanted friend. This is the second or third time for me, but because it was my brain this time it was different. Not only did I have to wear ear plugs and  ear muffs but a cage-like apparatus over my face, which reminded me of the creepy character in “Silence of the Lamb.”  “Twenty minutes and you’re out of here,” said the specialist. The MRI is a gigantic piece of equipment and, like a human, it breathes 24 hours a day, never shutting down. At first she was gentle and moved me closer to her so she could have a better look at me. Then it slowly started; first the loud, obnoxious horn like a broken alarm in a car;  then the pounding of the drums, first the horns then the drums. It was as if a inebriated orchestra conductor was fixated on the brass and horn section. I was given a small pump in case I could not bear the sound. I tried to pray but all the commotion of the deafening music from hell silenced my thoughts. I have a neurological issue that we are dealing with, I’m not that concerned because my symptoms are mild. But please keep me in your prayers. I’m praying that through the MRI I can have a procedure done to alleviate the problem.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, I thank you for this most welcomed letter. I praise God that we made a difference in this young lady’s life. I pray that she will always remain close to You. Lord, I pray for the outcome of the MRI, and that it will reveal to the neurologist the best procedure for me. Amen

The Letter

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