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Like many of you, I remember exactly what I was doing that gorgeous sunny morning on September 11, 2001.  I was sitting at home doing Hospice paperwork.  

Suddenly, my phone rang.  Nancy, Administrative Assistant in my previous job as an RN in Radiation Oncology and typist for all my Seminary projects, asked if I had my TV on.  I told her No and she urgently said to turn it on.

As I did, I  saw what looked like a cloud of smoke pouring out of a tall skyscraper.  The voice of Katie Couric came loudly over the TV. Nancy and Katie almost simultaneously said that something had hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center!  Right at that moment, I saw something that looked like a plane fly into and hit the other tower!  I stared in disbelief, my mind suddenly blank. 

 Nancy and I stayed on the phone for several minutes, not speaking.  Nancy finally shakily said that it was like being back in Oklahoma City all over again during the bombing of the F. Murrah Federal Building where she had seen and experienced the devastation. We murmured words of support. 

As the day wore on, I visited with my terminal patients, trying to bring comfort where needed while shaking inside.

My BFF Janie was in touch throughout the day as she anxiously tried to reach her oldest daughter in NYC who had just been a block away from the explosions.  It was at least  10 harrowing hours before Janie could finally reach her.  Rebecca had struggled for hours to get to her home amidst the acrid smoke, chaos,  fear, and panic that day.

Several staff finally gathered at our office that day and the next, stunned, in shock, and in grief.  My friend Judy asked if I could help with a memorial service and grief group for our staff.  We then found out that another work friend had lost her close friend when the plane she had boarded in Boston had been derailed and hit one of the World Trade Center buildings.  Everyone was affected in some way by this tragedy.

I do not remember much about that memorial service and grief group but as so often happens in the midst of shock and grief, we did.  It was a blessing to be able to share and be with others.   

One thing I do know is that nothing would ever be the same again in our country. 

 Let me close with the following Litany of Remembrance which has brought comfort to so many in the memorial and celebration of life services I have done since that infamous day.

Blessings on this day as WE REMEMBER!

Rev. Carolyn Quinn

Today is Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day. This is dedicated to the memories of our fur babies who have crossed the Rainbow Bridge. My friend Emily Rian Saetuern shared this about Dunkin who was with her through thick and thin.

Dunkin
“My mom (of course) was the person who convinced me to adopt Dunkin. He was found wandering in the desert and was taken in by a dog rescue. Dunkin was one of the spunkiest dogs around and I am convinced he had nine lives. There was more than one occasion where I was convinced we would need to say goodbye but he defied the odds and made miraculous recoveries. Saying goodbye to Dunkin was one of the hardest things, as he was not only one of my first fur babies but also because it was the first time my girls had to say goodbye to a beloved pet. However, I am so grateful that my girls were able to have Dunkin as one of their first dogs, as he taught them not only how to love and care for an animal but also how it feels to be loved unconditionally.

“May you remember your fur babies with love and be thankful for the unconditional love they brought into your life.”

May you remember your own amazing fur babies on this day and the unconditional love they brought into your life!

Blessings,

Carolyn

DUNKIN

ELIANNA & DUNKIN

DUNKIN’S LAST DAY

Have any of you this past year felt weighted down by Covid, having to isolate, not see friends, family, co-workers, nor being able to attend important joyous events, or just live our everyday lives?  And most importantly, losing loved ones?!  

For me, in addition to isolation, not being able to see kids and grandkids, going to church, and just living life, I have lost ten friends, family, co-workers, and our beloved dog Bo in the past year. Surprisingly, only one loss was due to Covid. 

This meant not being able to see them, or say goodbye to them, or honor them in a celebration of life service. 

I did get to be there for Bo’s crossing the Rainbow Bridge, which was so important. And in the past few months, I did get to attend two celebrations of life services, which were so meaningful!  And we were able to adopt our precious Bella Blue, a rapturous little corgidor, full of pure joy, fearlessness, and love of all humans (other animals, not so much!).  Check out the pics of her, Mom, and Dad!  

I have also been facing the serious illnesses of cancer in a family member and my business partner and friend of many years. This pretty much leveled me as my partner had to give up full-time work, pushing me to make difficult decisions about my own business, and what to do.  

I had to ride the roller coaster of uncertainty, fear, grief, you name it.

I finally had to just STOP, give up control, and be by myself, interspersed with finally reaching out to others and at last turning it over to God.  This also included reaching back into the happy childhood memories of my growing up with my parents, brother, larger extended family, and community.  

These reminiscences were also inspired by at least two Facebook groups, support from several spiritual Facebook groups, and contact with family and friends, if not in person, in myriad other ways. Honoring members of my family through remembrances and writing about them has also been healing.

In Hospice, we often find that reminiscence, or what we call life review, often helps both the dying patient and loved ones as well to cope with what is happening.  

n just the past few weeks, I have begun to turn the corner on my own grief of uncertainty, loss, and whatever life brings.  THE WEIGHT HAS BEGUN TO BE LIFTED FROM MY SHOULDERS, SOUL, AND SAD SELF!

What has helped YOU in the past to lift the weight of whatever burdens you?  And what is working now?!  

MAY YOU BE LIGHTENED AND INSPIRED  BY THE PICTURES FEATURED IN THIS BLOG OF A WEIGHT BEING LIFTED!  

   Mom & Bella

Dad & Bella

Bella on a car ride with her mom!

Blessings,

Carolyn

I don’t know about you, but life has thrown me some real curveballs (often of my own making) which I have not known how to deal with.  

As I went through these difficult situations, phrases were often given to me by the Universe to help me cope!  Here I share a few which have made a difference in my life and the stories that go with them:  

PSALM 42:  

In 7th grade, I was a gawky tomboy trying to become a “girl.” Making good grades was of supreme importance to me and science was not my best subject. On one test, I copied an answer from the boy in front of me. Our teacher confronted the entire class about someone cheating and said whoever did it had to come forward!  I cried inside for two days, prayed for help, and just opened my Bible, landing on Psalm 42.  It was a lifesaver, and gave me comfort then, and now!

“EASE THE POUNDING OF MY HEART…”

I also have had a lifelong problem with anxiety which this awful episode of course kicked up. Another phrase that the Universe gave me before I went to “confess” was the “..Ease the pounding of my heart by the quieting of my mind.” Shaking, trembling, and crying, I went to my teacher and confessed that I had cheated. I did receive my punishment, which was bearable. The same two sources of comfort helped me confess to my parents and I do not even remember the consequences!  

To this day, these two sources provide me with comfort in difficult situations and also help me to calm down.

 “KNOCK IT OFF”    

Later in life, I worked in group mental health therapy. One major issue that my senior clients dealt with was the loss of a loved one. One patient, who I will call Frank, cried in every group session; nothing the group or I tried with him helped! In between groups, he would call and bemoan with whoever answered the phone. One afternoon as I struggled to get my progress notes done, Frank called, bemoaning he was depressed and did not know what to do, which he often did. Out of frustration, I blurted out, “Knock it off, Frank!” To my utter surprise, Frank BURST OUT LAUGHING! From that time forward, Frank was no longer as depressed, was able to tell himself to knock it off, and moved eventually forward into another relationship!  

(This is not a therapeutic technique I would normally recommend)!😊

“I AM SO SORRY!”

Much of my work in later years has been with those who have suffered trauma through abuse, all kinds of losses, and other grief. Most of us often do not know what to say in moments such as these. The most powerful phrase I have found time after time is simply to say, “I am sorry,” or, “I am so, so sorry.” 

These simple powerful words say it all. 

“IT IS WHAT IT IS!” 

For many years I have just not liked this phrase. However, the older I have gotten, the more this phrase has simply helped me accept what is happening in my life at that moment, and to accept the reality of the situation, too. I quit fighting, trying to change whatever it is, and simply deal with what is. 

I invite you to share phrases that have helped you in your life, and the stories that go with them because you never know when you might help yourself and someone else!  

Blessings,

Carolyn

REMEMBERING MORE FAMILY HEROES

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!  Today I honor more of my family members who have served!

George Joseph Stevenson:  “Mick”

Mick Stevenson was the oldest boy in the Stevenson clan, named after his Dad. He like all his sibs but my Mom were born in Concordia, Kansas. My favorite story told by my Mom was that she caught her brothers Mick and Jack smoking in the basement as the smoke rolled up through a hole in the floorboards. Mom reported them to Grandma who promptly got a can of tobacco and made them smoke it all! Uncle Jack got really sick and did not smoke anymore! Tough Mick smoked till later in life! Mick also had several other adventures in his youth!

Mick, like his Dad before him, joined the Army near the end of World War II. The war was over before he was shipped out so he served in peacetime. Wasn’t he handsome?!

Mick returned home and met the love of his life Faye in Republican City, Nebraska where his family was.  

 Mick and Faye had 6 wonderful kids who have been through thick and thin together. Mick was a plumber his whole life and his son David followed him in this profession. The youngest of the 6, Kenneth, served in the Army in Desert Storm as an engineer. Two bricks honoring Mick and Kenneth’s military services were purchased by the family in a Memorial Brick Garden in Manhattan.

The Stevensons faced many things in their lives, the most serious being the total loss of two homes due to fires, one at Christmas when fortunately they were not home, and 10 years later, the second home when Mick, Faye, and two youngest kids were home.  Mick helped get everyone out safely but his own lungs were singed badly. Later he suffered two bouts of throat cancer resulting in a laryngectomy and getting a voice box the rest of his life. He still maintained his sense of humor through it all! Aunt Faye said these total losses of homes taught what is really important in life.

Later in life Mick and Faye became like second parents to me and supported me in areas when my own parents could not, and based on some of their own life experiences. They were Godsends to me! I would often tell Aunt Faye first! They stayed one winter in Arizona to attend my ordination as a minister. Mick and I shared our stories of recovery. They were salt of the earth, maintained their humor whatever life threw at them, and was sustained by their Catholic faith. They spent many wonderful years traveling in their motorhome, just as Faye’s folks had done, and now their oldest daughter Bev and husband are doing!

Charles Francis “Chuck” Stevenson

The Stevenson boys from the left and my dad Walt on the far right.

Uncle Chuck beloved by nieces and nephews: With Richard, Carolyn Walters, and Janet Tieking.

Chuck was born in Republican City, Nebraska, and after high school graduation, moved with his folks and siblings to Washington State. Uncle Chuck served in the Army, first at Ft. Riley, Kansas, and later in Germany. My family was living in Manhattan near Ft. Riley at the time and we got to see him often!  

Uncle Chuck loved kids and was in return loved by them!  Some of my greatest memories were of him at ages 3 and 4 and teaching me how to dive.  One of my favorite stories was when he tried to cut my hair with dog clippers to save money. I heard him say, “Oops!” when he goofed. It was the worst haircut ever!  He tried to teach me how to drive in his old ’39 car. I slammed on the brakes and sent his glasses flying into the backseat!  From then on, he called the car Galloping Gertie!

Other cousins have their stories with Uncle Chuck. (Please share)!  Kenneth, who you met earlier, named their youngest son after Chuck when he was born on Chuck’s birthday.

 Uncle Chuck taught elementary school for 33 years in the same school and raised orchids and champion Boston Terriers.  He was always there for his family, especially his Mom after she was widowed. He died doing what he loved, judging at a dog show! He was buried near his parents and other family members.

I guess you can tell how much I love my maternal family. Being the first grandchild has always been very cool!  

May your 4th of July now and in the future be a celebration of our country, our freedoms, and our ancestors!  

Blessings

Carolyn

I was born in love, surrounded and held in the earliest weeks of my life by my Mom, maternal grandparents, and aunts and uncles.

I was raised in love, surrounded by my parents, and my brother, among the happiest years of my life.

I have known and still know, the love of God, growing up in a church surrounded by other children and adults who supported and mentored and encouraged me and still do.

I grew up in the love of extended family, the oldest of 34 grandchildren on one side, and 4th from the last on the other.  

I remember being loved through high school, even though I did not love myself.

I learned about my love for justice and my hatred of injustice in my first college experience and which I have tried to live throughout my life.

I was saved by the love of grace and forgiveness through recovery.

I experienced the love and sadness for my own lost children, only to be given a chance to serve and help other children, and to be blessed with my adopted daughter, stepdaughters and grandchildren.

I have had the incredible opportunity to experience the love of compassion, and receiving more back than I gave in careers of social work, nursing, chaplaincy, and bereavement.

I have all my life experienced and been blessed with the love, support, and joy of lifelong friends.  

I have had, and still do, the unconditional love and joy of animals in my life.

I have not only survived but learned over and over from my own struggles in life.

I have experienced the JOY of humor in life in spite of life’s pain and difficulties!  

I have experienced and still do the lifelong love of my husband through thick and thin.

Through it all,
I REMEMBER LOVE,
I HAVE BEEN LOVED,
I GIVE LOVE,
AND I WILL ALWAYS, ALWAYS,  
CHOOSE LOVE!

  Mom, Dad, and Carolyn.

Carolyn & Don.

My grandbabies.

Blessings,
Carolyn Q.

Today on Father’s Day I honor and remember my Dad, Jacob William “J.W.” “Walt” Walters.  

Dad was born on a farm, the last of 7 children, on March 13, 1923.  The year before he died, on one of our Memorial Day trips to honor his ancestors (all buried in the same Catholic Cemetery), Dad found the house where he was born and showed Mom and me.  It was as if he was on a reminiscence journey.

I think Dad learned to be a Dad on the job by parenting my brother Richard and me! What must it have been like to become parents to two babies in less than a year, often have to be gone on the road 5 days a week and leave us alone with Mom who could not drive then, and be the sole breadwinner till we were teens?!

Dad finally got a permanent position and we as a family helped finish our family home, planted and tended enormous gardens, went to the drive-in, and so much more!  

In addition to his 39-year career with Southwestern Bell, Dad worked a second job painting houses.  Eventually, he taught himself plumbing, electricity, and whatever else it took to flip old houses, renovate them, and then sell them. 

And yet he never missed one of my brother’s baseball games or any of our school functions.  He often quietly supported us when we had life problems, even though it hurt him and he did not like some of what happened.  He could also firmly give us his life wisdom and advice too if he thought we needed it!  He was there for us!  In short, he loved being a Dad!  

He even built a Hi-Lo camping trailer for us to go camping in when we were young, till he graduated to an RV and later a 5th wheel in retirement to spend winters with Mom in Arizona, which he loved!  We had so much fun in our biweekly get-togethers, sightseeing trips around Arizona, and morning walks.  Dad was happy in retirement and got the most out of life! 

Probably the most life-changing and meaningful event for my Dad was when our entire family was baptized together by immersion in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).  Dad almost did not make it as the 5′ 6″ minister dropped his 6′ frame and the Baptistry curtain had to be closed quickly!  Fortunately, they both survived!   

The last 10 months of Dad’s life were filled with illness after illness, and finally, he had 2 totally different kinds of cancer, including two surgeries for thyroid cancer.  His last cancer had spread from an unknown source so surgery was not possible.  He did have chemo which greatly weakened his body.  I made it home to the hospital in time to see him for only 30 minutes the night before he died. 

But in that short time, the Holy Spirit was present and directed me as I simply asked, while he shook from a 105-degree temperature,

“Dad are you afraid?” 

Dad, shaking, “No!”

Me:  Dad, are you praying?” 

Dad:  “Yes!”

Me:  “Dad, is Jesus with you?” 

Dad, who loved Jesus as his main man, with tears in his eyes, and with what strength he had left, declared, “YES!”

That exchange, which was our last, has sustained me throughout the years since he died and made the pain of his dying and death a little easier to bear😪

You were loved by many Dad,  with your quietness, your sharp observations, your sense of humor, those sky blue eyes, and that wide grin and joyous laugh which I often see flash across the Arizona skies!!  

WE LOVE YOU DAD NOW AND ALWAYS!  

STAY TUNED ON JULY 4TH FOR THE STORIES OF MY OTHER DAD FIGURES WHO WERE MY UNCLES AND SERVED THEIR COUNTRY!  

Blessings!

Carolyn

MORE MEMORIES

MORE SERVICE

As I prepared for today’s blog, I was struck by the number of holidays/dates of remembrance tied to honoring our loved ones who served in the war and are now gone. Also, I did not realize till doing last week’s blog on Terry, he died in Nam on 6/23/1969!  

So today, D Day, I honor members of my own family serving from World War I through VietNam in war and who are no longer with us. 

World War I and Armistice Day

Our maternal grandfather George H. Stevenson served in WW I in France.  He kept a personal journal of this harrowing conflict, of which several of us still have a copy.  He and my Mom, his oldest, always called it Armistice Day, now Veteran’s Day. (More on his story on Veteran’s Day).

World War II and D Day

Today we honor D Day when the American, British, Canadian, French Free Forces stormed the beaches of Normandie under the command of General Dwight D. Eisenhower from my home state of Kansas on June 6, 1944.

My own Dad J.W. “Walt” Walters, was at the same time embroiled as a Marine in taking back Iwo Jima in the South Pacific.  (His story will be shared in August).

The Korean Conflict

My godfather and uncle John “Jack” Stevenson served in The Korean Conflict.  It was never officially to this day declared war but not so for the brave men and women who served there!  This “war” has never been officially tied to any day of remembrance of which I am aware.  If so, PLEASE let me know!          

SHOUT OUT ON TERRY

I NEVER DREAMED the response to Terry Householter would be so TREMENDOUS!  SO A SHOUT OUT to the 16200 PERSONS who were reached with last week’s blog!  And TO TERRY who I truly believe was not only overseeing this from Heaven but had a hand in getting the word out! Please continue to share his story!  

If may seem a conflict to those who know me as a person of nonviolence,  that I would also be so supportive of our military!  But like all things in life, nothing is simply black or white!  It is not about only fighting for our freedom, and that of others around the world, but for good over evil, light over darkness.   I wish humankind could find ANOTHER WAY to resolve our conflicts, but we haven’t done so up till now. And we STILL need to Honor those who gave their lives for us!  

Next week is Flag Day and I want to honor the six generations of my family who have served in the military and those I was not able to include here because there are SO MANY in my family and among friends!

BLESSINGS ON D DAY!

Carolyn

My hometown of Beloit, Kansas has always celebrated Memorial Weekend in a BIG way!  The weekend is filled with activities of class reunions, a parade, picnic in Chautauqua Park, Talking Tombstones, and on Memorial Day itself, a Wreath Ceremony at the river, followed by ceremonies to honor our vets at the cemeteries. It is a time of celebration, remembrance, and getting together with friends

My parent’s headstone.

Memorial Day Weekend Activities in Beloit, Kansas.

      It is also a time to remember our loved ones and ancestors.  In my own family, my Dad raised special peony bushes by the rose trellis he had built so many years ago.  For 30 years, my parents would fill dozens of jars of peonies, and travel 160 miles round trip to deliver these to honor my Dad’s ancestors buried in a small cemetery in Hanover, Kansas, then on to Concordia, where Mom’s ancestors are laid to rest, and finally to Beloit.  I usually accompanied them.  After Dad died, Mom and I kept up the tradition for many years, and I have tried to get home to honor my folks in May.   It was always so special and brings tears to my heart to remember.

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       In Remembrance:  Terry Householter

    Terry Householter was a local boy from Concordia, Kansas, 30 miles from my hometown.  He was very famous in our home state for his running, breaking records in the 100, 220, and 440 dashes which stood for many years.  

He had natural athletic ability, sometimes skipping practice, and, rumor has it, smoking and partying at times.  He was very popular, a leader,  and touched many lives, including me when he flirted with me at track meets.  (YES I still remember).

Terry, Championship runner.

    After graduation and one semester of college, Terry joined the Marines to fight in Viet Nam.  It was not till many years later that I learned my cousin Jerry and he had gone to high school together (but were not close at that time). They met up in a mess hall in the camp where they along with hundreds of other Marines were headquartered in Viet Nam, and became close buddies, even though in different units. They even talked about rooming together in college once they returned from Nam.

Jerry & Terry in Vietnam.

     A few months before he was due to return home, Terry, squad leader of his unit, and his unit were ambushed.  As Terry tried to radio for help, the Viet Cong, picking him out as the leader, shot him and he was killed.  (This experience is harrowingly recounted in the story of Terry’s life online).

Terry in Vietnam.

   My cousin Jerry had seen him a few days before he was killed.  It was a tragedy for many in our home area and state, with Terry being one of the first killed in Nam from our area.  His funeral was held at Concordia High, attended by hundreds.  Terry was posthumously promoted to Corporal and awarded the Bronze Star and Purple Heart for Valor in Action. 

  My story with Terry does not end there.  While in Taos, New Mexico in 1998, I made the 50-mile journey on the Enchanted Circle.  I discovered a Viet Nam Memorial, honoring vets who been killed, and there was a page devoted to Terry in his running days and in Nam.

     Years later, I also discovered that Terry had been named for a cousin-in-law in my family!  The connections!  I was finally able to visit his grave in Pleasant Hill Cemetery near the grandparents who raised him, marked by flowers even after all these years, and neatly kept.   

   I often ponder who and what Terry would have become if he had lived beyond Viet Nam and returned home.  Even after all these years, he touches lives, and I believe he watches over us!  

Blessings on this Memorial Day,

Carolyn 

To read more about Terry, check out the book written about him, The House Rules by Chris Ryland, et al. Available in paperback on Amazon.