Slogging

Negativity, frustration, sadness, anger, selfishness, insulation, avoidance.

That's where I am. That's what I'm feeling today.

All I want to do is sit in front of the TV and watch hours of nothing. And not answer the phone. And not get dressed.

I remember this. I remember the weeks and months of wondering where I had gone. But when Mom died, I had to get up and go to work every day. This time I have the luxury of closing myself in. Is that good? Somehow I'll find the balance.

At least I'm not surviving on chocolate and french fries. And I'm not crying myself to sleep every night. But I do dream, and awaken with my pillow and cheeks wet with tears. In the morning, I barely remember, but move with a heaviness.

This too will pass. This too will pass. This too will pass.

And then there are glimpses of joy.

A friend is going to help me deliver midnight snacks to the night shift nurses who gave me such great care after my surgery.

The leaves are beginning to change.

I get to go to one more baseball game.

And if I stop for just a minute, I can almost feel the love and prayers that surround me.

I remain sustained.

Grief

I've had a very quiet week at home with Tim gone, but a very busy one. But I'm looking forward to not doing much this coming week before I leave to join him. I'm working on a big house project, and I'd like to make a lot of progress in the next few days. That's hard considering my continued physical restrictions as I heal. But I'm being a good girl. :-)

And I am so tired! I'm crying a lot now, really missing Dad, hurting from it. It comes in waves all day, and I'm trying to not push it down, stuff it, but it is hard. I'd forgotten just how wearing this process is. I think I've said that already this go round. And I'm sure I'll say it again.

I remember now how insular I feel when I'm sad. It turns me from an extrovert into an introvert - wanting to just be alone day after day. I'd forgotten that for months after Mom died I didn't want to see anyone, talk on the phone, do much at all. I'd forgotten how selfish that looks from the outside.

I need to find the balance between loving those around me who love me, and taking good care of myself by giving myself the time alone I really need to process this grief. I'll work on that. I'll start asking God for the strength and desire to be with those who love me. I'll journal and get those feelings about Dad. I'll try to cry when it comes up, allow myself to feel those deep, cutting wounds.

Onward.

Oh my, so fine!

I'm back in the kitchen - my saddle, so to speak. :-)

Yeah! It felt so good to actually cook meals for my hubby two nights in a row.

And last night I made a cake - a glorious, decadent, easy celebration of summer. Wowo - was it delicious. Here's the recipe, courtesy of The New York Times Cook Book. This cookbook was a gift from one of the attorneys for whom I worked from 1994-1998, the last full time job I had. That was an incredibly difficult time in my life - my mom was dying of breast cancer, Tim was in grad school and very absorbed in that task, and (to put it in the mildest of terms) I had some troublesome relationships at my work place that made my life miserable.

When I quit that job, I was surprised and delighted to receive this wonderful gift from Mark. In the front he wrote, "Hope this book will help you to fill your newly found "free time" with joy. Good luck and best wishes." His recognition of my love of cooking, and his participation in my emancipation was such a lovely touch. I have appreciated his gift time and time again as I often reach for it on my cook book shelf.

Thank you, Mark. You have added to my life in a simple but meaningful way.

Peach Upside Down Cake
1/4 lb plus 3 Tbsp butter
2/3 c brown sugar
3 peaches, peeled and halved (and cut in half again if they are giant peaches)
1/2 c granulated sugar
1 egg
about 1 tsp vanilla extract (I seldom measure extracts)
1 1/2 c all purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 generous pinch of salt
1/2 c milk

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

Melt the 3 Tbsp butter in a 9" square baking dish and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Arrange the peach halves on top of the sugared butter.

Cream the remaining butter with the granulated sugar and beat in the egg and vanilla. Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt, and add alternately with the milk.

Spoon the batter carefully over the peaches. Bake for about 35 minutes, or until tests done with a toothpick. Let cake stand 5 minutes or so before inverting onto a serving platter. Serve warm with whipped cream.

Yummy, easy, satisfying, not low fat so don't worry about it. Just enjoy! :-)

More from last night...

So I came home from the party so tired, but then I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, I had bad dreams, I couldn't stop thinking about Dad and little tears would squeeze out of my eyes. And then in the middle of the night my *$!) incision site woke me up again! Frustrated!

Last week I developed two very small infections on it. I went to see the doctor right away, and his nurse wasn't worried. She gave me some additional cleaning instructions, told me to put triple antibiotic cream on them, etc. They've been healing nicely.

But then last night, where another stitch has come out or dissolved (not sure which is happening, or is it both?), there is another place that is red and tender. Do I just do what I did with the other two? I think I'll go with that.

Boy howdy, am I ready for this to heal and to not think about it quite so much. To those of you lifting prayers on my behalf, I continue to be very thankful. Don't know what state of mind I'd be in without your love. A mess?!

So, this morning I'm up early. Just couldn't go back to sleep. After getting close to overdoing it Sat, Sun and Mon, I asked Tim last night what I was allowed to do today. His response? "Pretty much nothing." I'll do just that. Pay some bills (from the couch). Watch a movie ("Slumdog Millionaire" which everyone said was so good). Scoop the kitty litter.

I'm hoping to both distract myself from all these thoughts, and work through some of them. Balance, right? It's all about balance.

Mixed bag

I went to bed absolutely exhausted, and quite pleased with myself! :-) The dish I made for last night's Indonesian community's celebration of the end of Ramadan (called Lebaran) was a hit - particularly with two ladies who asked for the recipe. Wow! I felt so flattered that they sought out who made it and then quizzed me on it. I guess that means they liked it. :-)

But there is another side to attending those Indonesian gatherings. It is a reminder of how Indonesian I am not. So much of me feels Indonesian. So much of me that most people don't see. But then when I'm surrounded by the beautiful brown skin, the language flying around, and I'm only catching about half of what's said, and they all know each other so well, I am the obvious outsider. Makes me sad.

And now with Dad's death, and having neither parent, I feel like I've lost my Indonesian root. I can't really explain that, except to say that my parents were two of the champions of the Indonesian within me. They understood better than almost anyone what parts of me were Indonesian, how I grew up longing to look like those around me, and the struggles all that has meant throughout my life.

Another loss, one more thing to process, another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps we all have to deal with some feelings of rootlessness when we loose both our parents, when we become orphans in this world. The oak from which our acorn fell is gone, and we are left tossed in the wind of the world.

Living in this truth, in this place, I am very thankful for my root in God. It defines much of who I am and what I am to do while on this Earth. I am thankful for my sisters and family who can remind me of who I am, where I come from, and the stories we don't want to forget. I am thankful for my friends who love me just as I am - Indonesian, American, or the strange mix that I am. And I am thankful for the Indonesia that is in me. To paraphrase Barbara Kingsolver from "Poisonwood Bible", I will never be able to wash the dirt, the smell, the culture, the love of Indonesia out of my skin.

Because it is a part of me. That is who I am.

Company

Two Indonesian gatherings in three days. Lovely! And both are potlucks, so we'll have lots of delicious food. Going to parties does, however, make me wish that I had company more often. And why don't I?

Well, there are a lot of reasons. But can I overcome them? Hmm...maybe. Ok, probably.

I'm hoping this fall to make my house a little easier to keep tidy - culling out junk and clutter, getting rid of stuff I never or hardly ever use, lots of trips to Goodwill. That will help.

And maybe I can discipline myself to do just a little more housework. A little more each day would make a huge difference.

And then I just have to make the effort to do it. I just have to remember to set aside the time, make the invitations, plan for it. Somehow my life here is busier than it was in Missouri. Haven't figured out why, but I guess that doesn't really matter.

Meanwhile, I'll enjoy the hospitality of my friends. I'll have fun at someone else's party. And I'll keep working on this lifelong task of self-improvement.

Frustrated housewife

I'm bored.

Frustrated, too.

Spending all day, every day in my house is making me acutely aware of all the work this house needs, all the projects I could be accomplishing, but for this stupid body! Can't lift much, can't even do much yet without feeling increased pain the next day.

I know. Take it easy. Relax. Give myself lots of time.

Bo-ring!

It seems strange to be such an emotional yo-yo. One day I'm crying, so relieved to not have cancer. A few days later I'm just frustrated that I'm not healing faster. And within those two days, there's no predicting when I'm going to feel a wave of missing Dad and burst into tears.

Such is my fall, though. Up, down, spin me round. All this will pass as I heal emotionally and physically. Meanwhile, I'll just keep riding those waves.

High tide

I don't have cancer.

Standing in my kitchen this afternoon, washing a few dishes, listening to some favorite songs, it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks, in a flood of tears and crying.

I don't have cancer.

On this beautiful, early fall day, with the cool breeze and the golden sunshine, the day waning into evening, instead of looking at chemo, radiation, prognoses, I am healing from a simple surgery.

I don't have cancer.

With assurance, I can say that. With joy and an incredible sense of relief that has not really hit home until today. With a welling of unstoppable tears, and a crying out in thankfulness to God. With a sigh of relief for my sisters, husband, and family. With a tenderness in my heart I can say I don't have cancer.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.


Praise Him all creatures here below.


Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.


Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Comfort

There's this adorable bundle of love who gives me such comfort!


That's my Egg Fu Yung. My snuggler. My hanger-on. My daily companion.


I think I can pretty safely say I like just about everything about this little guy. I especially like the way he starts asking me to go to bed around 8:30 every night.

He sits in the living room, near the hallway to the bedroom, staring at me. Every time I make a move to get a drink or adjust my pillow, he meows plaintively, "Come to bed." The time varies as the length of days change, but just about an hour after dark, there he is waiting for me. And the longer I take, the later I'm up, the more forlorn he sounds. It's too cute.


And does he love to snuggle! He shares my pillow every night, and the warmth of his little body, and the rumble of his purr lull me to sleep. It is my favorite lullaby leftover from a childhood filled with pets. It is a blessing and a joy. It touches something deep down inside me.


And on chilly mornings, as we snuggle in bed, dozing, enjoying the mutual warmth, this is the face I look at. It always makes me smile.

And during hard times and on hard days, his unconditional love, his tender snuggling, his enjoyment of our time together lifts my spirit. Yes, a small thing in the perspective of human lives, but a significant one. I'm thankful for my pet, my little cat, whose warmth and softness bring a deep comfort to my heart.

Late summer gift

I have managed to grow the most beautiful tomatoes! And I can hardly take any credit for them. All I did was plunk them in the ground in June, stake them as they grew, and give them enough water. Amazing!


Despite this being a summer of stress, illness, worry - definitely not a summer of gardening and tenderly nurturing my plants - look what God has gifted me with! Perhaps this is his special gift to me because of the tough summer. Whatever the case, I am very thankful.


Succulent, beautiful in color, full of the flavor of summer, these beauties are ripening almost every day.


Marinated in an herb-filled vinaigrette, eaten like an apple, sliced with just a touch of oak-smoked salt - no matter how we eat them, they are divine!


And the colors! Yellow and red - just perfect in my eyes. I am thankful beyond words for this late-summer gift. What a joy for early September!

Another day

I'm doing what I'm supposed to...mostly. Ok, so I might be doing a little too much, but it's all right. I started working off the vicodin yesterday, and I think that's going to go just fine. Ibuprofen every 6 hours, like clockwork, to keep inflammation and pain down. Should be fine. If I need the vicodin, I'll take it, but I'd rather not.

And today looks to be absolutely beautiful! And I have no visitors, which is is an unexpected relief. I have enjoyed every person who has come by, but I think the quiet will be lovely. And instead of spending my energy on people (which is how I prefer to spend it!), I'll give a little energy to the house. I might even marinate some tomatoes from my garden.

So very slowly, little by little, I'm getting better. I'm ready to hop on my bike, take a vigorous walk, go for a hike, but then my brain gets one step farther than the smell of fresh air, the wind in my face, and I think about this belly and how slowly it's healing.

Nope.

Instead, I'll maybe stroll around the block. :-)