525,600 minutes

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes how do you measure
Measure a year
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life
How about love
How about love
How about love
Measure in love
Seasons of love

525,600 minutes, 525,000 journeys to plan
525,600 minutes how can you measure the life of a woman or man
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died

It's time now to sing out, though the story never ends
Let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love
Seasons of love
Seasons of love
(words and music by Jonathan Larson for the musical Rent)

A little over one year and twelve hours ago from this moment, we were sitting with Dad in the pre-op room giggling about whether or not using a pig replacement valve is Kosher. Little did we know then the way the next year would turn out.

Obviously the words to this song have taken on new meaning. We could certainly measure Dad's past year in times of strife, in times that he cried, or the way that he died, but that is not what he wanted. Dad would want us to remember the laughter, the truths we all learned, a year in the life of friends, and most importantly, remember the love. Add in a good cigar, a good wine, and a good game of dominoes with his wife and the people he loved...that is the perfect way to remember Dad.

Words cannot express our gratitude to all of you for your support, thoughts, prayers, tears, and love this past year. Like we have said before, Dad was the hub of the wheel...but somehow we have kept going. It hasn't been pretty, but we roll.

In my last post on July 9, I shared with everyone Mom and Dad's love story, from it's beginning in high school. The story was published in a book that I received the day after he died. It is published on page 241...February 4, 1991 is their anniversary. I don't think anyone can deny that Dad had the last word on the story.

The book is entitled Cup of Comfort for Couples. It is not officially due out until December 18 (which is, by the way, my grandfather's birthday.) It is a collection of short stories about love. The book is selling for approximately $10. However, I have the opportunity to purchase them for a discounted price in larger quantities. IF you are interested in your own copy of the book, please consider "ordering" through me. You can "pay" me the regular amount but I will donate the difference between what I pay and the regular price to Craig Hospital in Dad's name. It truly is a remarkable place. Perhaps Mom and Dad's love for each other, as retold in a story, can help the love they felt for Craig. If you are interested, send me an e-mail at syoder@mid-prairie.k12.ia.us. I will get the details figured out and be in touch with you soon.Below is a link to Dad's obituary in the Des Moines Register. (You may have to cut and paste into your browser.)

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/desmoinesregister/obituary-search.aspx?daterange=30&lastname=rosenfeld&countryid=1&stateid=15&affiliateid=1740

xxxooo etc.
Suz

So many quotes, so little space

I have been thinking about this final post for a couple weeks now and I am no further in putting my thoughts down than I was when I started. How on Earth is it possible to summarize this journey and post those final thoughts to ponder....bear with me as I try...

First and most important, Dad and Mom are HOME!

When Dad went in for his heart procedure in December, we all assumed everyone would be home within a couple days. Little did anyone know that the journey was just beginning...

"The main ingredient of stardom is the rest of the team."

It is obvious that Dad and Mom are the stars, but we have to thank the team at Craig. Dad and Mom hosted a good-bye party before they left and had a chance to personally thank so many of the staff. But, I now know how those who win academy awards feel...there is no way to name names without leaving someone out. Words cannot express our gratitude to everyone, beginning with Dr. Hsu at the helm and going on and on to the entire staff. Below are just a few pictures...

shirt everyone signed before leaving Denver

Dea (who, by the way, signed the shirt, which Dad will wear, "My heart belongs to Dea!")

Levi, who literally saved Dad's life with his chest compressions

Rex, who taught that "everyone heals in their own way."

Emily (who hopefully gets a ring soon but that is another story!)

Dad, Mark, and Dave the engineer

the night staff snuck Dad's glasses out of his room for a few nights and compiled these awesome posters

As awesome as those pictures are, I must admit that the ones below are even better because they are from home! What better way to celebrate a homecoming than with a 4th of July celebration!

and if anyone ever doubted whether Dad's sense of humor (aka: attitude) has been compromised, let me share the following...I went outside to take the above picture. Needless to say, I coughed and sputtered when I took my first breath. Cass, a gentleman, said, "Oh, we're sorry." Dad cut him off..."Yeah, sorry you came out!"

So, the journey now continues at home...what a wonderful place to be. I don't know the future of this blog...perhaps Dad will take it over or I will do some monthly posts (with pictures, of course!) But, I have to meet my quota of thoughts to ponder. All of these come from the legendary UCLA coach John Wooden.

"Do not let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do."

"It isn't what you do, but how you do it."

"It's what you learn after you know it all that counts."

"Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out."

and, finally, a quote from the just as famous coach Trudi Rosenfeld, illustrated by the staff at Iowa Ortho...

Before I sign off, I thought I would take this blog full circle. A few months ago, I took some time and officially wrote down Dad and Mom's story...the entire story from the day they met in 1963. And because I felt it was so important for the whole world to know their incredible story, I submitted it to the editors and publishers of the "Cup of Comfort" book series. Apparently, they also felt this amazing story had to be spread and the following will appear in the newest book to be published sometime around the end of the year. As you will see, it was meant to be.

Willow Weep No More

They have seventy-one years of marriage between the two of them, although together they just celebrated eighteen.

Mom says, “He is my third marriage but my first husband.”

My parents, Trudi and Marty, met in 1963, when both were involved in the Midwest region of United Synagogue Youth (USY). Mom lived in St. Louis and Dad lived in Des Moines. Over the next two years they saw each other only six times, but they sent letters daily. When Mom arrived at camp the summer of 1965, she saw Marty holding hands with another girl. She cried for two weeks.

In the fall, she started her senior year of high school. In art class she expressed her feelings through painting with a self-portrait entitled “Willow Weep for Me.”

The next summer, Mom and Marty saw each other at camp again. Although they did trade a glance or two, they did not exchange a single word.

Two more years passed, and no letters passed between them. Eventually, Mom accepted an engagement ring from another. Then, on a Thursday night, she received a phone call.

“Don’t get married,” Marty said. “Come to Des Moines and meet my parents.”

She agreed and went to tell her parents.

Her mother’s reaction was quite simple. “We have two-hundred-fifty Cornish hens ordered for your wedding in two days.”

The trip to Des Moines never happened.

After fourteen years of marriage and three daughters (I am the middle one) my mom’s marriage ended. After some time and consideration, she decided to find Marty. Going about things the old-fashioned way, without the luxury of Google, she talked with friends and went to the library for phone books. She took a chance and called the now “Dr. Rosenfeld” at his office. It was a simple conversation.

“Hi. I’m divorced, and I heard you were, too.”

His reaction was not what she had hoped for.

“I remarried, and we just had a baby,” Marty said.

Again, she hung the self-portrait on the wall … and wept.

As things often do, my younger sister, Tiffany, followed in my mother’s footsteps and joined the same region of USY that Mom had been in almost thirty years earlier. She attended the fall conference in Des Moines. One evening during a large group dinner, a gentleman in a light-blue sport jacket walked on stage and, amid the hundreds of teenagers, took the microphone and simply asked, “Does anyone out there know Trudi Lasky?”

My sister, very shy and quite surprised, raised her hand, stood up, and then said hesitantly, “That is my mom.”

Marty introduced himself to Tiffany and explained how he knew Mom (although I am pretty certain he left out many details.) She snapped a few pictures and accepted his phone number, assuring him that she would pass it along to Mom when the weekend conference was over.

But my sister was a little uncertain. Mom was in the middle of her second divorce, and that marriage, like her first, was far from healthy. Tiffany wondered whether she should develop the pictures and give Mom the phone number now or wait until there some semblance of normal returned to our lives? Then again, what was normal? Why not give this a shot and move ahead with a “new normal.”

Tiffany told Mom about her surprise visitor in Des Moines, and the two decided they should develop the film immediately. After all, Mom had not seen Marty in almost three decades. However, by that time, the new puppy had decided the roll of film was a chew toy, so there were no pictures. But on Tiffany’s urging, Mom called the number, and although she had no picture, she finally heard Marty’s voice again.

During their second phone conversation, he proposed and she accepted. The ring arrived in the mail later that week.

Months went by, and just like teenagers, Mom and Marty talked on the phone every night for hours. We all started to notice that this “new normal” could, and did, involve smiles and happiness. The willow tree was no longer weeping. The only problem: he was in Des Moines and she was in St. Louis.

Fall arrived, and it was time for Mom to take me to college at the University of Iowa—coincidentally, only two hours east of Des Moines. After checking into the hotel, Mom and I had just sat down to relax when the front desk called to say there was something wrong with the credit card Mom had used to make the reservation. She let the desk clerk know she was on her way down to straighten things out.

When the elevator doors opened to the lobby, there stood Marty with two dozen red roses. He quickly explained that there was noting wrong with her credit card; it had all been a ploy to get her to the lobby. I will never forget the image of my mom, happier than I had ever seen her, in the arms of her true love. It was kismet, meant to be.

Many years have passed since my Mom and Dad finally got married. (Although not my biological father, Marty has been “Dad” to me in every sense of the word.) Like all marriages, they have gone through some rough spots, but nothing could have prepared them for what was to come.

In December 2009, Dad was involved in an incident that left him a quadriplegic. He was on a ventilator in an intensive care unit for six weeks. Mom rarely left his side. She became his advocate, his voice, his calming presence, his angel. They have since left the hospital and for the last three months (and counting) have been at a remarkable rehabilitation facility.

When Mom feels angry, hopeless, exhausted, helpless, frustrated, or any negative emotion, I simply ask her, “Do you still love him.”

She answers me without hesitating. “I did not think I could love him more than I have my entire life, but I do.”

In Hebrew, the letters of the alphabet also have a numerical value. The Hebrew word for life, chai, has the numerical value of eighteen. In February, at the remarkable rehabilitation facility, my parents celebrated their eighteenth anniversary. For them, life has started again.

Although my mother’s self-portrait is now hanging in my living room, I know the willow is not weeping. It is a constant reminder to me that the power of love can go beyond the past as well as the present to create a beautiful future—such as this “new normal” that has returned my mom to the arms of her true love, her first true husband.

Finally, words cannot express our gratitude to all of you who have sent thoughts, prayers, cards, messages, and especially, love to Dad (and the whole family) throughout this journey. Homecoming marks just one checkpoint met...we have so much further to go. Your love has been amazing!

xxxooo etc.

Suz

Change of Address

Take a look...i changed the mailing address for Dad and Mom on the side of this blog. Chances are, if you mail something to Craig Hospital today, it will arrive in Denver after the Rosenfeld's have left...it is best to start using the home mailing address again. Yippee!

Last Friday, Julie Igram and I worked at the house to get things ready for Dad and Mom's homecoming. We unpacked many suitcases and boxes, rearranged some closet space, and put pictures back on the walls. The construction crew has done an amazing job, even down to the little details of a red door and a black toilet seat. Although they still have some paint and trim to finish, things are "done enough" for them to come home.

The representative from the home health care company came out on Friday to deliver some supplies. He asked me about the "big day." I assumed he meant the homecoming but, no, he was wondering about Mom's c-section. Somehow the word spread around his office that Dad had remarried a significantly younger woman before his accident and they were expecting...Um, NO! We had a good time laughing at this blunder but it is really funny how random rumors can get quickly started.

We will keep y'all in the loop about when Dad is up for visitors. It is a 12 hour drive home from Denver (Mark is driving) and I am guessing it will take a few days to get things at home organized and comfortable. In the meantime, keep Dad and Mom in your thoughts. And, remember, as Dad figured out just last week while looking at the word "Craig" on his sweatshirt...if the letters are rearranged, he had a cigar with him the whole time!

Below are a couple new pics...Jake showing off his new tie-dyed shirt (a tradition at Craig) and a new picture of the puppies...

love to all!

suz

p.s. Many of you have asked to be part of the e-mail group i notify when the blog is updated. I am having problems with my e-mail and i am not able to access my addresses which is why i was not able to send a message out to you about this post. I will work to discover the problem but, in the meantime, just check back frequently. Thanks!

The Imelda Marcos of...

The Yoder family drove for 14 hours on Sunday and made it to Denver in time for dinner. Mom asked the night before when we were leaving...our response..."the butt crack of dawn!"

We did stop by Village Court on our way to take some pics of the house.

This is the new door out to the porch.

...looking up from basement in the elevator shaft

We were showing some of the pictures to Maria, one of the respiratory therapists. She came across the following picture that I took just for fun...Dad's cologne cabinet.

Maria loved the picture and dubbed Dad the Imelda Marcos of cologne....as i thought about it, the picture below does look reminiscent of Dad's cabinet...

Their new bed was delivered and Mom and I went to Dad's favorite store, "Blood Bath and Beyond" yesterday to get linens that will fit. We will drop these off on our way home so the bed can be all ready to snuggle up in. The lift for the garage and to transfer Dad have both arrived and although the house won't be 100% finished, it will be ready enough.

The other day, Dad was talking with Candi Boyd, the chaplain here at Craig. They were discussing Dad's heart stoppage from the other week. He asked Candi if she had a theological answer for why he did not have an out of body experience or or see any bright light. Candi shared this conversation with Emily Scott from family services. While the two did not have a philosophical answer, they did come up with a solution for the light. The next day, the two brought Dad a signed light bulb, instructing him not to turn it on and leave well enough alone. The bulb will be proudly displayed in a frame at home as soon as they return.

I will post again soon...

lots of love,

suz

P.S. Elaine, the prayer shawl you brought to Mom is so greatly appreciated. This certainly has been a journey....

Things have calmed down...

Before I left Denver on Sunday, I asked Dad what he wanted me to put on the blog. His reply was quite simple..."No pulse and no blood pressure means dead. But, tell everyone G-d wasn't ready for me yet." He said he didn't see any white light or a tunnel but Mom did see her life flash before her eyes. She said she was yelling in his ear too loud for him to go too far.

His little "bump," as I called it, turned out to be bigger than we originally thought but ultimately, it didn't win. On Wednesday morning, Dad's heart did stop, although his pacemaker did maintain electrical activity. CPR was performed and he was given 12-14 chest compressions. He was given medication and then transferred to Swedish Hospital. Thankfully, everything turned out and we were able to get him back to Craig on Thursday around 3:30. He is still on antibiotics for pneumonia but he is feeling a lot better than when I got there.

The Jones' arrived on Thursday and on Saturday night we all tried our first Cricket burgers. Dad felt good enough to come to Mom's apartment for dinner and some NCIS. He was very excited for the NCIS marathon today (Monday) and I think more excited that Mark would be there to watch with him (Mom just doesn't get that into it.)

So, bottom line....things were a pretty awful for awhile but everyone made Dad promise he wouldn't do it again. We don't think this will greatly impact his progress and he still should be home at the end of June.

Below are some recent pics...

Dea and me after his shave...

a couple pics from the park...

pet therapy with the Newfoundlands...

Andrew, Jeremy, and Dad working on the COW (computer on wheels)...Dad is working with some really cool voice recognition/word processing equipment. They also have his phone up and running so give him a call.

the babies...

We all need to take a deep breath and hang on tight...."as you ramble through life, whatever your goal, keep your eye on the donut, and not on the hole!"

love and blessing to y'all...

suz

A bump in the road...

Around 5:30 Wednesday morning, Mom was called to Dad’s room. When she got there, his room was filled with at least 20 people. Dad had coded and they were not able to get a pulse. Although his pacemaker was keeping his heart beating, there was not enough profusion. They did need to perform about 12-14 chest compressions but because he was being monitored so closely, the staff was able to get things under control very quickly. He was given some epinephrine and Dopamine to get his blood pressure back up and, because of this, he had to be transferred to ICU at Swedish Hospital (next door to Craig and connected by a tunnel.)

Once at Swedish, they performed a bronchoscope and were able to suction out a lot of fluid. They did determine that he has pneumonia (that darn lower left lobe of his lung is causing trouble again) and he is being treated with antibiotics.

My panic mode set in and I hopped a plane to Denver and arrived late last night. Dad was still pretty sedated and sleepy so we convinced Mom to head back to her apartment to get a little rest. We got back to Dad’s room around 7:30 this morning (after Mom’s 4 phone calls over here last night) and he is much better! He is off all extra blood pressure medication and is more alert, talking, and getting ready to eat some lunch.

So, what caused all of this? Although we are not certain, most agree that it was caused by a blockage in his airway (called a mucus plug) from his lungs that was not draining properly. The moral of the story….he will most likely need the ventilator at night for the rest of forever.

Our goal now is to get him “home” to Craig. As things are now stable and he is off the continuous infusion of blood pressure medication, the entire staff of 3W are working to get him back. Kate, his respiratory nurse practitioner who has worked with him since day 1 at Craig, is working with the doctors here at Swedish as well as Dr. Hsu. They all agree that everything they are doing/monitoring now at Swedish can be done at Craig.

We can’t say it enough, but the staff at Craig has been wonderful. In fact, many came over to Swedish yesterday not only to check on Dad, but on Mom as well. It was also perfect timing that Morgan was in Denver for conferences and was able to spend some time with Mom yesterday during all the unknowns.

Yeah! Dr. Hsu just left and they are set to take Dad back to Craig at 3! Good news! Dad says the food is better there anyway…..a man with my priorities!

The best day...a beautiful day...a post from Mom

The following excerpts came from Mom's journal...

May 20, 2010

...the best day...at 2:00 P.M. we went outside for occupational therapy/life skills, so Marty could learn to drive his power chair on the sidewalks, grass, etc. As soon as Marty hit the sunshine, he felt truly warm for the first time since his injury in December. He didn't think he would ever feel warm again. He knows now that there is more "warm" waiting for him. G-d bless this exceptionally special man....he is my true HERO!


May 21, 2010

...a beautiful day...went on an outing with recreational therapy to Wash Park. We "walked" and the enjoyed a picnic that the department provided. We realized that this was our first picnic in l9 years. We have been missing so much...there will be more picnics, hopefully many more...see, another blessing . I have my boyfriend back and I love him so much!