Joie de Vivre

Joy of living. My daughter Mary lives a life that illustrates this joie. She has an impulsive nature, generous, outgoing, always ready for fun. She is equally comfortable with the elderly and infants and all ages in between. Children love her. She giggles and plays with them as if she, too, were one of them. With children and adults, she can bring calm out of debate and make sense out of difficult emotional dramas. I admire her and love her. Sometimes her impulsive nature has caused conflict between us. I have stood, sometimes openly, sometimes privately, in judgment of her choices regarding money, travel, friends, social situations. As she has matured and bloomed, I think this judgment masks some envy. Her life is still young and full of wonderful promises. She laughs and plays, not worrying so much about tomorrow and rainy days. Her investments might not be in banks and stocks, but it is in people and places and memories and joie. Isn't this the life we were meant to live?

Thanksgiving

Celebrating Thanksgiving in my family has had many metamorphoses over the years.  My father's sister's house was where we gathered as children, a formal affair with dresses, coats and ties, speeches, toasts and treasure hunts. As time passed, and cousins grew up and married and moved, the celebration transferred to other venues. There are now many to choose from, depending on which coast you prefer and who is going to be where. This year we chose to visit my brother in Delaware, so the event was a whirlwind 1200 mile trek across 2 states through endless rain and truck spray. We ate delicious food, watched movies, caught up on the years events, stayed up late. My parents actually shared the main meal together for the first time in maybe 30 years, as my Dad traveled with us and my mother lives near my brother. I wonder what is the spell of the Thanksgiving meal, that draws families together across the country. There is no keeping it quiet, no matter how much the airlines charge for the Sunday home travel or how hard it rains. We seek each other out, to lean on each other and make sure we are still loved.

24 roses

Today is my birthday. Yes, I remember what I was doing when John Kennedy was shot. I was in school, looking forward to my birthday party the next day. I don't remember being sad right away, because I didn't really understand how awful and scary it was, until later, when we saw the amateur footage of the shooting on the tv. This was long before instant news and blogs and twitter, and cameras with phones and youtube. The footage was grainy and black and white, but mysterious and dreadful. My birthday party was wonderful, as I recall. More poignant because of the grief of our nation's loss in the background. This birthday is like that one. My sister sent me 24 roses, and a vase to put them in. Her card noted that reaching this birthday was especially miraculous and precious. Yes, indeed. Each step into the future is measured in miles already run, looking into the distance to the next mile marker. The measured and treasured stride, gently adding one to another, toward the destination that ends in our life's greatest joy.

Android

I upgraded my phone today, from a 2 year old Blackberry to a Motorola Moto. It has a touchscreen, and a nice camera. I really do like having internet on my phone. It is infinitely fascinating and entertaining. My old phone did not do any of the apps well that I like. The only downside is the cost. Our phone bill today is a little more than half of what our first house payment was way back in 1978. I am lying if I say it is worth it, but the play value is wonderful. Unfortunately, the guy at the store had to "wipe" my old phone, because Richard is going to use it. Goodbye 2 years of notes and calendar entries, mini directions to friends houses and all the other random entries I made to help me remember things. Now the Blackberry is back to the way is was when I first bought it. Scrubbed and ready for a new adventure.  My new phone is also a sort of blank slate, the calendar is empty, there are no photos or memos. It is like a fresh new day, full of potential. As an act of faith, I signed a 2 year agreement for this phone, and I plan to enjoy every minute of it.

Finishing Things part 2

Yesterday I finished my 4th cycle of this current treatment series, and, according to my doctor, I can be finished with it. I am cautious about this because I thought I was finished before, but that was 2 treatment series ago. I guess that is typical of most things in life. I remember when I finished college I thought I would never take another test. I have probably taken hundreds of tests since then, as I wended my way through nursing school, and then certification tests, and a return to college to study spanish. Then, with my children grown and gone I thought I was finished working in children's ministry, but now I am busy every other Sunday with 4Corners Kids. When I was told I had cancer, I thought my life was finished and looked at how unprepared I was to face that end. Three and a half years later, I am still working and playing and living a life that, though different in some ways, still looks remarkably like the one I lived before that difficult day. Finishing things seems to be a way to end a chapter, but not the whole book. What challenges us, calms us, encourages or restores us, we begin again.

The work God gives us to do

My husband has a new job that is quite different from his previous job. The biggest difference is the amount of extra hours he has to work, long into the evening and weekends sometimes, without compensation. Now he is grateful to be working, as most of this year he was living under the cloud of pending, then actual, unemployment. But the job that we consider a gift of God has come with a cost greater than what was expected at the beginning. The temptation is to look for something else, but if we have learned nothing else in the past 3 years we have learned to bear it. The work that God gives us to do, which can be physical labor, prayer, encouraging others, maintaining family relationships, even chemotherapy, serves more than a single purpose. While we are about the work, He is about using the work to shape and form us, grow us, discipline and teach us. We find ourselves at a loss, often, of energy, ideas, courage, kindness, patience. He is there to show those things to us. The work that God gives us to do is service ultimately to Him, for Him. We do the work He gives us to do, and we do it to the best of our ability, because it is His gift to us, and ours to Him.

Myra's Dionysus

Tonight I had supper with my dear friend Elizabeth at Myra's.  I have mentioned Elizabeth before in this blog, because spending time with her is definitely ice cream, no matter where we have supper. She is full of energy and bubbles over with her passion for people. She works for the Restavek Foundation, which is an organization that focuses on the problem of children in domestic slavery in Haiti. Several weeks ago, she was working on an exhibit for a weekend event that featured simulations of a day in the life of a restavek. I made her 500 or so buttons to give away to the people who participated in the experience. It was great to hear about the positive response to her hard work, and to know that over 800 people now know something about the plight of thousands of children forced to live in terrible situations. I am glad to know people who choose to do something valuable to assist others in this messy world. Elizabeth, my daughters and many of their friends have stepped into roles that inspire and encourage others, mentoring adults and children to look with new eyes at the world around them. It is wonderful to join with them, this next generation, those who are not afraid to reach out to those who need them.

RATsfest

I have mentioned the RATs before, but since they are such a great group of friends it makes sense that they would be responsible for a considerable amount of ice cream. This was our annual weekend getaway, to Brown County Indiana. 10 of us rented a beautiful log cabin and made it home for almost 48 hours. My personal favorite event was relaxing in the hot tub, since I absolutely adore hot tubs. Each one of us brought our real selves to the event, and were able to offer up some of our life's wounds for the group to bind and heal. There was the gift of laughter and comfort, patience and encouragement. We have all known each other for a long time, and respect and trust each other. Sometimes better than family. This is a weekend that slips by altogether too quickly, as we fall back into our weekly routines. Except I now have a green t-shirt that says: "What happens with the girlfriends stays with the girlfriends."
That is a safe place indeed.

A warm room

The days after chemo are always challenging, kind of like having a touch of the flu. Feeling draggy, sad and a little queasy, but unwilling to just sit down and give in to it. This is usually how it goes. So when there is an opportunity to gather with friends, the first thought is "no, I don't feel well", then "why not, it will be fun". The gathering was at a small restaurant, the food was delicious and the room was cozy warm. Lots of chatter and laughter. These are friends from church, an "Appetizers and Talk" Lifegroup that meets intermittently. Our church thrives on these types of get togethers, where we can get to know one another as friends instead of just someone you sit next to at church. It is an important part of our church, an extension of the Sunday service, one that connects and builds up and strengthen us both individually and corporately. So something like chemo bleh cannot interfere with this. A warm room, kind words and the Spirit of God, building something wonderful deep in our souls.

Arms and Legs

My sister called me yesterday to tell me about a patient she was going to see today. This teenage girl had had a terrible episode of a raging blood infection, that caused irreversible damage to the circulation in her arms and legs. To save her life, the doctors have had to systematically remove both her legs and both her arms. Her kidneys have also failed so she is on dialysis. I was feeling a little droopy yesterday, but after hearing this nightmarish story I put on my big girl shoes and got some work done. I have thought about this girl all day today. What will happen to her? How will she cope with this new life, a life of dependency on others to meet her simplest needs? Will she find the strength to continue her life's journey? Will her family? I am so glad that my sister will be a part of the team that will help her find that strength. I have determined that I have never been so useful to God, in any of the missions activities I have been involved in, than I am now. There is not a day that goes by that I do not feel His presence, hear His words coming out of my mouth, share His love with others. I have arms and legs, and can still go and do, and so I will.

Hoarders

What does Hoarders have to do with ice cream? Actually quite a lot. I discovered this show by accident, during one of my meanderings through the internet. I am fascinated by the episodes I watched online. I wondered if I was a hoarder before I watched it, and think now that I would have been if not for my neat as a pin husband. My sewing room is my one hoard room. I totally understand saving things "in case you need them someday" and not getting around to fixing things that are broken. It is a difficult task to throw things away that I really am not ever going to use. It is only slightly better to give them away. I think everyone should watch at least one bit of the show, just to understand mental illness a little better. The dirty cluttered house is a window into the soul of the broken person that lives there. Instead of judging, the show tries to understand what has happened to the person that blinds them to the filth of the place they call home. Maybe we could all learn to be so compassionate that we can provide the comfort to others that they crave from the possessions they cannot let go of. Give something away today that you have been "saving", and feel the freedom to invest in something more valuable...like a friend.

Anniversary

34 years ago yesterday, Rich and I got married. We were on the young side (23 and 21 respectively), unemployed, in debt and almost clueless about what we wanted to do or be or accomplish. We also had our vices, like drinking, smoking, ignoring God, and a myriad of other dysfunctions, both known and unknown. As the years have unfolded, we have been able to help each other over our emotional and physical hurdles. We have faced unemployment, disease, disappointment, death, and minor poverty together. We have celebrated life, redemption, joy, success, wonder and gratitude together. We have 2 amazing daughters, a beautiful granddaughter, fabulous son in law and boyfriend in law. Our journey has led us through living in a trailer park to a home with a big yard, back to a little condo; from New Jersey to Arkansas to Ohio. The scrapbooks I make are filled with smiles and rich memories of travels across the globe: Africa, Israel, Central and South America, Europe, the Caribbean. This life together is a testimony to faithfulness, to commitment, keeping promises, believing in the value of each other. We did not do this alone. We have a great crowd of witnesses, cheering us on. Thank you.

Heaven

I am glad there is Heaven. I can't imagine living in this world thinking that there is no God, no grace, no redemption, no forgiveness, no hope, no Heaven. My friend Tara went there last night. She is the fourth woman that I knew who has died of a gynecological cancer this year. I feel the weight of this ruthless disease that seeks to crush our spirit and destroy our faith. But Heaven is impossible to destroy. Where Heaven is, is peace and joy and freedom from pain. Everything is made right, we see clearly those things that were hazy. We connect with the Trinity of God, and the multitude of others that have arrived before us, and come alive in a real and lasting way. The bible talks about Heaven a lot, in both old and new testaments. God wants us to know that this life is a vapor, dust, a flower that blooms then fades. Heaven is eternal, beautiful, full of light and life, singing and eating at a banquet table. Heaven resides in our hearts always, a prayer, a song, a future and a hope. Sing your song, Tara. Have some ice cream. Save me a place by you.

PET Scan

Not that anyone needs all the complicated medical information that is so redundant in my life, but today I got the results of the PET scan I had done on Monday to see what is going on with the tumor that is living in the right side of my pelvis. The test showed that the tumor is half the size it was 3 months ago, and about 2/3 less active. Now this is good news to me. I have learned to take such information as it is presented, and not read into it. It is a snapshot in time, on a certain day, in a certain machine, and interpreted by a certain radiologist. It is not prophecy. It cannot predict the future. I see the words on the paper and hear my doctor translate it into: one more cycle of chemo, then monthly treatments with one of the drugs. We are in uncharted waters. Not many women with advanced ovarian cancer get to this place, where the promise of many months spreads out before me. The treatment plans being made are forged in a scientific faith, with no hard data to go by. Yet, I feel like I have been given one more season to relish the life and lives that have been entrusted to me, and for that I am grateful.

Reverie

My sister visited me this past weekend. She is 13 months older than I am, and lives in California. We didn't do too much...sat in my living room and knit, mostly. And talked. It was wonderful. It hasn't always been this way. Years ago, we didn't always connect in positive ways. Sometimes we would say things that hurt each others' feelings. We would bring up dusty and worthless memories of our childhood that could still sting. We don't do that anymore. We both lead very busy lives, yet, this past weekend, we mutually decided to put everything aside and relax. She cooked yummy leek soup and we ate pumpkin pie and whipped cream. I helped her finish a sweater she started a year ago, and oohed and aahed over how beautiful it was. We bought each other Christmas gifts at Pottery Barn. We even visited the farm and walked through the crisp fallen red leaves of the sugar maples. We have found a comfortable friendship. Another gift of years, the chance to savor the days we have, a sweet reverie of our best selves.