lifestyle – Roadkill Crossing

Helping Others, Even on Her Birthday

The quilt we gave our grandson for his high school graduation. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Today is my wife’s birthday. How is she celebrating? By doing what she does every day: helping others.

Whether it’s her birthday or not, she spends the better part of nearly every Tuesday volunteering at a local thrift store. She runs the cash register, sorts clothing and knick-knacks, and answers customers’ queries about the store, the city, and the Shenandoah Valley, where we live.

As we both approach 80, we strive to be proactive with our bodies, minds, and spirits. Assisting others helps us in all three areas. At the store, Neva engages with new folks, which she greatly enjoys. For the local elementary school, she helps pack nonperishable food for families in need.

She uses her skills to make comforters for people she will never meet. A church organization sends them around the world to those who have little to nothing.

Neva also demonstrates her altruistic talents for the family. Last night, she delivered a quilt that she had pieced and had quilted for our grandson’s high school graduation. She helped him pick the fabric and arrange the pattern. Neva even stitched in music notes on the quilt’s backside for our musically talented grandson.

After that presentation, we sat around a campfire with our daughter’s family covered in quilts and blankets for no other reason than to enjoy one another’s company on an unusually chilly evening. Mere presence is another gift of giving.

Neva connects with a friend who has several children. With the ding of a text, Neva can be off providing rides from school to doctor’s offices and back. Now and then, she prepares a meal for them. Neva seems to run on opportunity, and when opportunity beckons, she responds more often than not.

Neva sends birthday, get-well, sympathy cards, and ‘thinking of you’ notes to those who need to be remembered. She often receives a return note or text of appreciation.

Yesterday, our freezer gave out. We hustled the thawing food over to our neighbor across the street, who graciously allowed us to temporarily store it in her freezer until our new one arrives.

In recognition of Neva’s birthday, that same neighbor brought a salad basket for Neva. She had picked the lettuce from her garden and included all the fixings for a delicious salad.

Neva’s salad birthday gift.

So, tonight, she and I will quietly celebrate her birthday with that salad and a few other food items that were too thawed to refreeze. It will be a satisfying end to another day of opportunities to serve.

No doubt, Neva is a trooper. She is determined not to let age deter her from doing what needs to be done to improve the lives of others, even on her birthday.

Almost Home

Old Order Mennonite buggy, Virginia, Shenandoah Valley — Almost Home.

Out for an early evening drive, my wife and I came upon this Old Order Mennonite buggy near the summit of Mole Hill Rd., west of Harrisonburg, Virginia. Having lived in Holmes County, the heart of Ohio’s Amish country, for most of our adult lives, we were used to following buggies up and down the rolling hills and winding roads.

Now that we live in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, we occasionally have the same experience since we live near Dayton, the center of life for the thriving Old Order Mennonite community. Like the Amish, they, too, stay rooted to the land by using the horse and buggy as their chief means of local transportation and by their rural, agrarian lifestyles. Also, like the Amish, they hire drivers to take them on longer trips.

Shortly after I snapped this photo, the buggy turned left, hurried up a long lane to home. The short scene was a happy reminder of the life we lived in Holmes Co., Ohio, and an affirmation of the new life we have begun in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

“Almost Home” is my Photo of the Week.

Changing diets to live

Bruce Stambaugh

Nearly five years ago, I was forced to change diets. That’s right. Forced.

During my annual physical exam at the doctor’s office, I happened to mention that I had recently had a couple of dizzy spells. With a family history of strokes and heart issues, the doctor ordered some tests, including a MRI.

On the return visit, I was told that I had cerebral arteriosclerosis, or hardening of the arteries of the brain. If I continued my regular lifestyle, including my normal, unrestricted diet, I would run a high risk of a stroke.

The doctor of course prescribed medication, encouraged me to increase my exercise routine, and to drastically change my diet. The “don’ts” of the new diet far out numbered the “dos.”

The orders were no beef or pork, no processed food, no fried food, and only no-fat dairy products. Instead, my choices were grilled, roasted, baked or broiled fish, chicken or turkey. In addition, I needed to eat at least five to six servings of fruits and vegetables a day. Basically, I could eat anything with two legs or no legs.

My head was spinning. The doctor must have sensed my tension because he did something rather unusual. He pulled up his own medical chart on his laptop and showed me his blood work scores. He, too, had the same disease, and had been on the same diet for more than a year.

“You can do it,” he said.

My doctor was right. I could do it because I did. I have been eating that way every since and enjoying it greatly. In fact within a month of going meatless and eating lots of fruits and veggies, I felt much better.

Of course I had increased my exercise, walking for 30 minutes at least three times per week. I rode the exercise bicycle if the weather was bad.

My wife, the chief cook in our empty nest home, was diligent about preparing food that I could eat. Together we followed the same diet.

My change in diet came right when our heirloom tomatoes came ripe. That was both good and bad. The tomatoes were great to eat fresh off the vine or in a salad or salsa or soup, but I missed one of my favorite foods, bacon, tomato and lettuce sandwiches. Having the latter two without the bacon hardly qualified as a sandwich.

At my three-month checkup, I told the doctor about my BLT cravings. He said that it was all right to eat some meat once a month or so. I looked forward to my BLTs the next year, but kept to my no meat diet as best I could.

Fried tilapia by Bruce Stambaugh — Fried tilapia and rice served to me in a home in Honduras.

If I was served meat as a guest in someone’s home, I politely ate it, but only a small portion. While working in Honduras on a mission project with a group from our church, we were sometimes served beef or fried fish. Not wanting to be insulting, I ate what was prepared for me or furtively shared with another person.

A year after first going on my new diet I received the best news possible. My homocysteine levels, the important blood work scores, were below the danger threshold. The diet, exercise and medication were working.

My doctor was as pleased as I was. I told him that to celebrate I was going out to eat and have a steak. I didn’t of course. By then, the desire for meat had long faded. In fact, the greasy smell exhausted by restaurants makes me nauseous.

Even though the dizziness about which I had originally complained was unrelated to my disease, I was ever thankful that I had mentioned it. I feel better, less lethargic, and more vibrant. I have lost a few pounds, and enjoy my regular walks, which have the added bonus of communing with God and nature as I stroll along our rural roads.

Best of all, I am able to maintain my regular routines and enjoy not only the food I eat, but the life that God has given me one day at a time.