Write Out of the Blue

Mmmmm....

2012-02-07T09:29:00.002-07:00

Think you don't like oatmeal? Think again!

Have you ever tried steel cut oats? Very different texture and flavor to that yucky, instant stuff in the paper envelope. Go to your local grocery store and buy yourself a package. You just might be surprised by the flavor, texture and deliciousness of this morning treat!

Here are easy instructions...

Melt 2 tsp butter in a pan, add 1 c. oats and cook over fairly high heat until the raw oats are lightly toasted.

Add 3 c boiling water and a light sprinkle of salt to the pan. Stir to combine well, then reduce the heat to a very low simmer. Cook about 25 minutes, stirring once or twice.

When most of the water has been absorbed, stir 1 c milk into the oatmeal. Cook another 10 minutes or until the milk has been mostly absorbed.

Lightly sweeten and add raisins - if you want.

This recipe should make enough for 2 breakfasts. Reheat in the microwave or on the stove.

Delish!

Morning thoughs

2012-02-07T07:10:00.002-07:00

I'm up early this morning, fooling around on Tim's laptop while I keep warm under the covers. Egg is snuggling next to me, wishing I would stop typing and go back to sleep! The sun has made it's way past the horizon, gradually lightening the sky, and another day is upon us. The early morning flow of traffic has just begun, and soon I'll see families walking their kids to the nearby school. A cup of hot tea might soon be calling my name, and I'll stay warm with slippers and a sweater instead of these blankets. :)

I haven't written much lately. Not sure why. Nothing unusual going on, perhaps, and my hours are full. Working occasionally at the library, still editing for the engineering journal, cooking, doing laundry, hanging with friends - the usual stuff. A housewife's life. Tim was gone all last week on a business trip, and I loved my quiet days at home. I got lots of housework done, and finally took down all the Christmas decorations. Whew!

I've been thinking a lot about Dad these days, and am continuing to work through the reality of being an adult orphan. I think it doesn't matter how old you are when you lose your parents - knowing you are now without them has an impact on your psyche. Of course, I don't need much "parenting" these days, but I sure do miss Mom and Dad. I miss their wisdom. I miss Dad's laugh and the great conversations we had over breakfast. I miss what great cheerleaders Mom and Dad were and how they always encouraged me - in so many ways! Dad was my greatest cheerleader over the last 5 or 6 years, and I especially miss that. It is hard to suddenly not have someone consistently saying, "Great job! I love what I see in your life!" I'm having to be my own cheerleader, and it just isn't quite the same.

So just a little shade of blue to the start of this year. I have some friends who are really hurting. Tough stuff going on in their lives. Really tough stuff, and I am very thankful that our most difficult times have not overlapped. They were there for me in my darkest hours, and I hope I can give them the same kind of support. It seems that we have so much choice in our lives - how we handle the challenges that come our way. Will we choose to stay in the valleys, in the darkness, or will we find a way out, becoming stronger because of the struggle? If we choose the latter, if we choose to fight and grow, perhaps we can then be the strong shoulder for someone to lean on when they need it. I hope this is true for me.

Anyway, there's my musing for this morning. As my neighborhood awakens, as Tim begins to stir, as I think about my day and what I need to do - I am thankful for so much. Within the ups and downs of life, I feel a growing sense of comfort with who I am and where I can be of use. And that's a good thing.

Challenged and fed

2012-01-27T11:17:00.005-07:00

"It was just minutes later that the dolphins came. ... I had never seen wild dolphins before, and I laughed out loud as they swept past Iduna. ... they leapt at her bow and dived beneath us ... they would turn their heads on one side and look up, and at the same time I could reach down and touch them. This is what being here is all about, I thought."

These are Ellen MacArthur's words as she left port one morning on her first solo sail of considerable length (around the island of Britain) at the age of 18. Ellen's love for sailing and the sea came early in her life and quickly developed into a consuming passion. She tossed aside her thoughts of becoming a veterinarian, or anything else for that matter, and turned all of her energy toward her goal of accomplishing all she could as a sailor.

Taking on the World is Ellen's personal story of her journeys - both internal and external - as she learns about herself, about sailing, and as she tackles what to me seem unimaginable goals including a solo trip around the globe. She speaks with clarity, not shying from struggles and heartaches, but her joy and love of the sea and sailing come through.

How inspiring, how motivating to read someone's story as they pursue their goals with passion and vigor! What would I like to accomplish in my life? What goals lie hidden inside me? Do I have the energy and stamina to pursue them? Perhaps my goals are of a much smaller ilk, but I nevertheless feel energized thinking about the small steps I can take. I love what books do for my mind! :-)

And the there's Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight - Alexandra Fuller's autobiography of her childhood in Zimbabwe in the 1970s and 80s. I related to so much in this book - being a white child on a continent of brown-skinned people, feeling like a native but knowing I somehow am not fully so, struggling to find my place in my ever-changing world. But unlike mine, her story is filled with heartache at the death of 2 siblings and the toll that took on her family, her mother's struggle with depression, the war and revolution that surrounded her. Yet she tells all these stories with such a light hand - not making light of life's tragedies, but taking them in stride, not allowing them to kill her spirit, finding a way to keep going with joy and perseverance. The book's closing sentence says it all:

This is not a full circle. It's Life carrying on. It's the next breath we all take. It's the choice we make to get on with it.

Once again, a book inspires me to not give up, to not lie down, but to keep going - and perhaps with even more vigor and perseverance than I had yesterday.

Just us

2012-01-16T13:32:00.005-07:00

We said it...

...out loud.

Without God's direct intervention, we will not be parents.

Standing in the bathroom, our arms around each other, tears in our eyes.

After so many years of wanting, hoping, wondering, skirting the issue, looking at it head-on, and everything in between - we said it out loud.

Is my heart overwhelmed or suddenly healed? Neither.

But I do feel a tiny grain of hope that healing will come. I do. I feel the tiniest seed inside me growing, knowing that God will take this loss of motherhood and heal it in my heart.

Will my arms always feel the emptiness of never having held my own child? Will I always see the joy of toddlers with a twinge of bittersweet?

Maybe. I don't know. So much I don't know, really.

I don't know God's purpose in this. I don't know why Tim and I, with our deep love, with our already long history, with our desire to be great parents - why we're the ones without a child to love.

But I do know this...

In our house, the wonder of Christmas will be found in our eyes, and the 4th of July fireworks will amaze us, and we'll be the ones laughing with joy at the new kitten. As we grow up and grow old - the joy that children carry? - we two will keep it alive in our own hearts.

And there is one other thing I do know...

The LORD is my shepherd. I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Bad dreams

2012-01-15T08:15:00.003-07:00

Ever have one of those nights when you toss and turn, and every time you wake up it's from a terrible dream?

Yuck!

Last night was like that for me. It seems there's quite a bit on my emotional plate - maybe more than I thought! I did some heavy journaling yesterday on some issues that have lately come to light, and it was all spinning around in my mind as I slept. Whew! It was interesting what the dreams were about - it seemed like the issues I'd spent the most time writing about weren't the ones most disturbing my subconscious. I'll take note of that.

So today, on this cloudy Sunday, I'd better get myself out of bed and ready to go. Church, hanging out with a friend, maybe games with neighbors tonight. A lovely day after having been sick much of this week. I'm almost all better - still eating a little tentatively and in tiny portions, but when is that bad? :-)

A pretty sweater, comfy cords and warm socks. I'll be all set. Even with the bad night's sleep. If I could just get out of this warm bed...

Sicky

2012-01-12T11:19:00.002-07:00

Who loves it when I'm sick? Who's in heaven when I'm at my worst?

Well, that would be Egg. "Oh, you're coming back to bed? And you're going to stay here all day? Divine!"

He loves it! He thinks I'm doing it just to keep him warm, and the loud purring that greets me each time he snuggles up to me is, to say the least, very comforting.

And then when I'm better and no longer spending all day in bed, he follows me around, crying mournfully, and dashing to the bed every time it seems I might be in even the tiniest way moving in that direction.

Very cute.

Yes, I've had the stomach flu that seems to be making its way through the city. I hope no one else I know gets it. None too pleasant. All that you would expect from the stomach flu plus the delights of a raging headache and fever. Yay!

I'm better today, although that's what I thought a couple days ago. Learned my lesson this time. Won't pronounce myself well for a couple more days.

Meanwhile, more lovely crackers and applesauce...

Another book!

2012-01-10T10:32:00.006-07:00

I just finished reading a wonderful book - The Calligrapher's Daughter. Set in Korea from around 1915 to 1945, this book tells the story of Najin and her family as they ride the waves of the years passing. Najin is headstrong, intelligent, and encouraged by her mother to both honor traditional values, and push the boundaries of those values. Najin struggles, learns, grows, and the tale, too, grows in scope. This is a story about endurance, perseverance, determination, faith, war, suffering, victory and redemption. Beauty, relationships, mothers and daughters, fathers and sons.

Written with authenticity, passion, and great tenderness, you will love the tale of this family as they work to survive the world that is in turmoil all around them.

I loved this book!

My truth

2011-12-25T06:06:00.002-07:00

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel - which means "God with us". Isaiah 7:14

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; ... and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6

And Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52

Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a servant and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross. Philippians 2:6-8

God made you alive with Christ and forgave all the things you had done wrong. He canceled the record of the charges against us with its legal demands and took it away by nailing it to the cross. Colossians 2:13-14

...and if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by confessing with your mouth that you are saved. For the Scripture says, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.” Romans 10:9-11

...and the peace of God which transcends all understanding will protect your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength! Nehemiah 8:10

-----------------------------

This is the truth by which I choose to live my life - from birth to death, before and beyond, I am in the cup of God's hand. The God of the universe, the master of time, the one who spins the stars in the sky, sees the storehouses of snow, orchestrates the dance of waves - this God, he watches over me day and night.

And that is why I celebrate today.

Humbled

2011-12-24T09:30:00.002-07:00

I am deeply and profoundly humbled that a paid fundraiser, a telemarketer with kindness and gentleness in his voice, would be the one to remind me, to prompt my heart to have peace and joy today.

I thank God for him.

Two for you

2011-12-24T06:55:00.006-07:00

The sun is slowly rising, coloring the sky and the neighborhood. The street lights are still on, giving everything a golden glow mixed with the cold light of a new day, and I sit in bed, a kitty sleeping at my feet, getting ready for the whirlwind of the next two days.

In these quiet morning moments before Tim stirs, I'll write a little about 2 books I recently read. Some of you may recall that I took a stab at a book blog, but never really followed-up. Instead of continuing to pursue that, I'll just write about them here. :)

Sidebar: The last 2 books I read I picked-up off the shelf simply because the titles grabbed me. No other reason, and yet I found myself engrossed in books filled with literary references, populated, in fact, by characters engaged in literary pursuits. How about that? It seemed an odd coincidence, considering my background in literature, but it was a delightful surprise and wonderful bonus to well-written books.

The Solace of Leaving Early (Haven Kimmel) is a novel about grief and healing, written with such tenderness that it is not a burden on the heart of the reader. Two little girls are, in one night, in one horrible event, bereft of their parents. They step into the lives of adults who carry their own heavy burdens - a young woman with a broken heart who has walked away from her dreams and left her plans behind her; a pastor who is in a crisis of faith, wondering how he can go on serving the flock; a mother and father doing the very best they can in this difficult world. Despite the troubles of each of these characters, the author draws us in and fleshes them out, making their struggles real and worthwhile, walking us through their days of sorrow and struggle, leading us to a place of renewed joy and hope. Quite a lovely and extraordinary book.

And then there's Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Marisha Pessl). Now wait just a minute ... what was this book doing on the fiction shelves? When I saw the title I just had to pick it up (perhaps influenced by my scientist husband!). This first-time
novel was amazing! The tale centers around a young woman,
Blue van Meer, raised primarily by her widowed father, a dashing scholar at obscure colleges. They move frequently, from town to town, and Blue is forced to find her place in each new environment. Her senior year of high school is a unique one - filled with unusual characters, challenges, mystery, difficult choices, and an exploration of who she is that leads her deeper into herself and frees her from her past. Pessl writes with a unique flair, using literary references cleverly and effectively. I loved this book! It is quite a long tale, but well worth the journey. Funny, fascinating, fully entertaining.

A tiny Merry Christmas gift to all of you who like to read. :-)

Unexpected

2011-12-22T09:45:00.003-07:00

The falling snow has stacked up to about 6 inches, and it is still coming down, although certainly thinning. I have the last of my shopping to do, not including the IOUs I will be giving out this year. :) I'm just not going to be able to get it all done. The kids will have their gifts, of course! :-)

After shoveling, Tim brought in yesterday's mail, damp from the snow that fell all night. In it was a lovely hand-written letter from a very old friend - from Indonesia days - and inside her letter was one my mom sent her 27 years ago. I put Mom's letter down on my desk for just a minute before reading it, just to get my heart ready.

As I read through the letter, I could hear Mom's voice, see her going about her business, all that she described. I could feel the understanding and support, the envelope of love and care in which I grew up. Often, as she was sitting in bed reading or writing letters, I would lie down next to her and we would talk, and she would rub my back or play with my hair. Always tender, always gentle, except when she would hug us hello or goodbye as we traveled back and forth from boarding school. Then her hugs were fierce and strong, and I knew she hated to let me go.

An unexpected gift so close to Christmas - to hear my mother's voice, to receive this letter. I don't know quite what to think, except that my heart must be healing as there were very few tears. And that's just as it should be.

Almost here

2011-12-19T16:03:00.004-07:00

The snow falls, the oven hums, good smells fill the house as I bake a Honey Cake with rose water and walnuts, and Tim smokes a big chunk of pork. The tree sparkles in the living room (presents gathering underneath it), and Egg is snuggled under the covers on the bed. Next door I see our neighbors wrapping presents, and it seems each day packages land on the porch.

Christmas is fast approaching, and my days are full! A Christmas party 4 nights out of 5 - too much! But it is time filled with laughter and love, so how can I say "no"?

So I shop and bake and rest and wrap and sing and bundle and rest some more.

This morning the quiet of the house is all around me as I do my work, and my heart feels a little more settled today. I am thankful.

Husband

2011-12-19T08:06:00.004-07:00

The singer's voice rang out clear as a bell, and he strummed the guitar with joy. He sang of the Colorado Rockies, of seeing "it rainin' fire in the sky" and that "the shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye".

And he sang of a man who "climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below, he saw everything as far as you can see".

And I thought of my husband. My Colorado native who loves these mountains more than anyone I know. Who draws from them joy, encouragement, strength, peace, faith. Who goes into them like he's going into a cathedral - full of wonder, and amazement, and looking for that which is bigger than himself. Who is convinced that the Rock of his salvation is not a boulder, not a towering cliff, not even a mountain 14,000 feet high - but even more unfathomable, even more unmovable, even more solid and unchanging.

I thought of the years we lived so far away, and how he longed for the Colorado blue sky, the clear stars at night, the days of quiet snowfall. How he longed for the smell of pine needles underfoot, and campfires on cold summer nights high in the mountains.

And I held his hand and felt the callouses on his fingers. I saw the glistening in his eyes as he listened to the song. I felt the tenderness in his heart as he heard the man singing, and he felt the song was just for him.

My love.

Filling my heart

2011-12-14T17:33:00.004-07:00

Ave Maria, The Peace Carol, Please Come Home for Christmas, The Prayer...

Lime-glazed cornmeal cookies, gingersnaps, peanut butter with toffee and pretzel cookies, chocolate fudge, peanut butter fudge...

At least 3 snowmen of varying size, 4 tiny trees, a silver sleigh filled with ribbons, pretty boxes everywhere, sparkling lights, 2 santas, and the most beautiful olive wood nativity...

Drives through the neighborhood looking at lights, shopping on-line before dawn for people far away, spending time with family and friends, sitting in my kitchen singing along, snuggling with Egg...

Answered prayers, laughter, changes in my heart, prayer, healing from sorrow, gratefulness for the Christ-child who grew to be a man who gave himself for me...

Waking

2011-12-12T07:39:00.002-07:00

Christmas approaches, and with it a tidal wave of busy-ness. I keep thinking, "Just get through the next 2 weeks." Part of me thinks this isn't how I want to be spending my holidays ... but the truth is - so much of what I'm doing I want to do.

So a mental shift is in order. Since I want to be doing almost all of these activities, I should look forward to each one individually. I should stop looking at my calendar and feeling overwhelmed by seeing everything I've got going on, all spread out over the next 2 weeks, stacked one upon another. I should just take one at a time and enjoy them each for what they are.

There, that already feels a little better!

Early this morning I dreamed that my sisters, their children, Dad and I were all at someone's house. As Dad and I got in the car to drive home, he laughed one of his large laughs, and in the dream, that laugh made me miss Mom so much that I burst into tears. And then I woke myself up crying.

Oh, the seeming impossibility of Christmas without a parent. Yesterday, walking through the grocery store with a friend, I said, "I hate Christmas." Is that really true? No - I don't think it is. I know it's not true. I think what I mean is I hate this feeling of deep-down inside hurting, and the hurt being stirred like sediment in a river - stirred with every pretty house of Christmas lights, every carol, every happy family, every memory that lies under the surface and rises painfully in my sleep.

But I know from losing Mom that each year will be a little easier. I'm also increasingly certain that I'll miss them so much for the rest of my life. But the missing will turn into the dull ache, the melancholy memories - it won't be this stabbing, this burning.

So today I'll bake some cookies, spend time with my friend, do a few dishes. Today I'll think about Christmas presents, maybe decorate just a little, and miss Dad.

What can I say?

2011-11-26T13:59:00.003-07:00

I'm here! I know I haven't written in a long while. I am finding myself filling my days with lots of productive stuff, but poetic words aren't really coming into my head. :( I hate to write boring stuff, but here's a little update.

The days are ever-shortening, and Christmas is now right around the corner. Baking, candy-making, shopping, and the calendar is full. I hope I'll enjoy the season, but I know I will breathe a deep sigh of relief when Dec. 26 rolls around. :)

My garden has gone to sleep for the winter. I was going to try and create a kind of greenhouse for myself, but that didn't happen this fall. Maybe I can get it together next summer. I'm already thinking lots about what I want to plant - lemon cucumbers, green beans, snap peas. Yum!

My headaches are crazy out of control, but I'm coping all right. Ok, I'm feeling pretty worn down physically and mentally, but this too will pass. If a couple things I'm trying this month don't make any difference, I'll be seeking out a specialist in Denver. Docs haven't done me much good in the past (in this area), but I'll try again.

I think that's all my news. Nothing monumental, but I wanted to let you all know I'm still here...

Good value

2011-11-12T11:42:00.003-07:00

I just made a discovery!

I've lived in my house for 5 years, and for 5 years I've been driving past a small collection of businesses very near my house. I did stop in one time to the barber's to get my bangs trimmed, but there is also a screen printing business, and a small clothing boutique.

When I got my little haircut a year or so ago, I noticed that the establishment also hosts an alterations business, so today, I decided to take in a couple items from my closet that need help. Didn't get that errand quite taken care of - the alterations lady is closed on Saturdays, but guess what I found?

The clothing boutique is full of beautiful, unique clothing and jewelry - much of which is made by Sak Saum - a company committed to "restoring hope and dignity to the vulnerable and exploited." Sak Saum is an organization devoted to helping women who have been rescued from human trafficking.

I am so glad to have discovered this little place! Of course, their adorable clothes, purses and accessories will draw me in again, but knowing that the dollars I spend there goes not only to support a truly locally owned, neighborhood business, but supports women who have escaped the worst kind of slavery - well, that's reason enough to spend my shopping dollars there!

If you live in the neighborhood, check it out. The sale basket has several lovely and very good buys in it right now! After all - Christmas is on its way...

Eon Fashion Boutique

834 N. Institute

http://www.saksaum.org ... which is a ministry of ...

ihsionline.org (In His Steps International)

Love

2011-10-31T21:06:00.001-06:00

I'm so thankful for nights of sleep and mornings that bring new days. I woke up with none of last night's heaviness.

But even as I wrote last night's post, my mind was filled with all the kids in my life - and how much I enjoy them. I guess we're all surrounded by kids, but I feel like I have an extra portion in my life. Babies who know my face and smile when they see me. Little blond girls who love tea parties, and boys who want to show me all their tools. Kids who have elaborate stories to tell and practice their jokes on me, learning what's appropriate and what's not. Teens who might walk by with not a word, or greet me with a hug.

I love each of these kids, and not too often does being with them make me sad. For that I'm very thankful, because these are great kids, and I want to enjoy each of them right where they are since that changes every day!

So this morning, no tears. Just a residue of sadness, but I'll tell God all about it and open up my hands to let him take it away.

Loss

2011-10-31T20:45:00.004-06:00

The night is full of laughter and orange lights and cars driving with slow care through our neighborhood.

Halloween.

Tiny fairies, and Batman, and a race car driver, and two bumblebees, and dinosaurs, and a pop star, and a flapper, and a tiny vampire all walk the streets, and the neighborhood feels alive.

But tonight my arms feel empty.

I think it's becoming pretty clear that husband and I will not be parents. We won't adopt, there won't be some late miracle in my body. We won't ever hold a baby and know it's ours. We won't watch that little one take its first steps. We won't help dress anyone for Halloween and walk the neighborhood as Mom and Dad.

Sometimes I'm really ok with all this. Sometimes it feels almost like a relief to know we won't have to walk that hard road. We won't have to do the hard work of discipline and training when we're already so tired we can hardly think. We won't have to listen to the screaming of tantrums when we have company over. We won't have to change dirty diapers until we can hardly stand the sight of little bottoms.

But other times my arms and heart ache with an emptiness that comes with the knowing: I won't be a mother. Other times I can hardly look at a child without envy and sorrow. Sometimes when my nephews turn to me and mistakenly call me "Mommy" my heart bursts in my chest and I can't catch my breath and tears leak into my eyes, but I quietly answer them anyway.

Tonight I'm sad. I'm sad and feel this loss deep in my belly. I'll drink my cup of hot tea, and maybe take something to help me sleep - perchance not to dream. No dreams, please. Not tonight. Just rest and calm and blank thoughts. So that tomorrow I can get up and keep on walking this road toward healing, toward a heart that can rejoice in someone else's gift of a child. Not to deny my sorrow, but to come to a place where it no longer so defines me, controls me, pulls me this way and that.

Because the goal is joy and peace. To grow and let our wounds heal. Insha'allah, someday.

Twenty

2011-10-26T07:36:00.003-06:00

Late yesterday afternoon the brilliant blue sky of Colorado autumn turned to gray, and we were warned by both nature and man that the temperatures were going to drop.

Sure enough, this morning, there is not a hint of anything but cloud - if the dense, low covering can be called that. Snow lies on the ground and it is continuing to snow, albeit not with much determination. "I don't foresee much additional accumulation," the weatherman might say.

I, for one, am glad for the change. Fall has, indeed, been beautiful, but I'm ready for cold days when I can embed in my house, sew or cook, and enjoy the quiet of winter. For those of you who dread the cold, my sympathies are with you. :)

Last night Tim and I went to a screening of Pearl Jam Twenty a documentary by Cameron Crowe (see Jerry Maguire, Almost Famous) who began his career as a music journalist in Seattle. He chronicled the band's beginnings, their rise to the heights of the music industry, and their continued journey as seasoned musicians and mature adults. It was wonderful - moving, informative, entertaining, with great timing and an amazing soundtrack.

On the drive home, Tim expressed that it had transported him back to his early college and grad school days in a much more visceral way than he'd anticipated. He had been absolutely engrossed in the film and was almost giddy with joy and memories. I, on the other hand, felt rather low, even though I'd enjoyed the movie intensely. It was leaving the movie that got me down. And listening to him reminisce. After all, those were golden years for him. But not for me.

I arrived home feeling old. I was reminded of the season in my life when Pearl Jam was at the height of their popularity. Those were hard years - between marriage and death, I thought to myself when Tim said, "...between undergrad and grad school." I didn't have a place where I felt I really belonged, my mom died, I had a terribly difficult work situation. Tough years.

So I told Tim that. I said, "The movie made me feel old." I snuggled my head against his shoulder. "I guess we're not young anymore."

He stroked my hair and gently smiled. "You're still my sweetie."

Aahhh. Those words were like salve on a wound. This man I love, this marriage in which I live, my high school sweetheart who still sees me that way - but with the benefit of 20 years of life shared together, and all that means.

It made me think of the Browning poem that ends, "God's in his heaven - all's right with the world."

Amen.

Blessed

2011-10-24T12:08:00.003-06:00

I feel so blessed! I'm telling you - every hike I took this summer, every time I spent a day working in my garden, every heavy basket of laundry I carry - I think about where I was last year with this tender, awful wound on my belly. And now I'm all better! I know I keep saying it over and over again, but I keep thinking about it. I am so thankful for good doctors, my kind God in whose plan it was that I heal so wonderfully, my friends who served me faithfully, my family who loved me through the whole experience. Whew! I am blessed!

And ... today, as I took my morning walk in the fresh, new sunshine, the trees practically glowed in their fall colors - yellow, magenta, orange, and still a little green. Beautiful and wonderful to behold. Ahhh ... my favorite season is filling my heart and soul with beauty!

And ... I got a lovely massage, which means my neck and shoulders no longer feel like I've got rocks under my skin. That's always a plus, besides which my massage therapist is just such a fun lady. Time with her is always relaxing.

And .... I got some dog love this morning! There is a yard I walk by that has 2 labs in it - a young, black one, and a significantly older, slower moving yellow guy. They used to bark at me, running up to their chain-link fence, but as time passed, and I cooed and talked to them as I walked by, they barked from their corner, not even bothering to get up. Then they began to trot up to the fence to sniff me, that progressed to wagging tails, and now they run up to the fence, their whole behinds wagging, and push their ball under the fence so I can throw it. I think they'd do that all day, but I can only stop for a few minutes before heading home. It is too precious and fills me with joy!

And ... I am poised to harvest beautiful carrots, beets and radishes, and I still have lettuce and some fresh herbs. My mind is filled with plans for next year's vegetable garden. Yum-o!

And ... the fall light, that golden light that only comes this time of the year, floods my house, bathing everything in golden hues, as if Hollywood has lit my house for some royal scene. The trees move in the gentle breeze, the shadows play on my floor, and I dig out my sweaters and warm socks.

Blessed. I am so blessed.

Miracle

2011-10-23T08:47:00.002-06:00

I don't know why I'm not writing more. Life is crazy busy - especially this last week. (But to any of you concerned about me, I'm actually making progress in that arena.) Life is sort of normal these days. Hmmm, I'm not sure why ... but I do have something to write about today.

Thursday evening Tim and I were lounging around watching TV. The phone rang, and Tim picked it up.

"Hello? ... Hi, Jim ..."

In the thinnest margin of time, in the shortest nano-second imaginable, my heart lept out of my chest - Dad is on the phone?! - No, Dad is dead.

There was no slow leaking of tears, no sniffles. There was instant, full on weeping - sobbing really. My body was instantly wracked with violent tears, and all of it caused by synapses in my brain over which I have no control. Instinct at the sound of my dad's name. The longing in my heart to hear his voice, see his face, glean comfort from his presence. It was odd, to say the least. And it left me shaken for a couple hours. And it resulted in very strange dreams for a couple nights.

How much I still miss him! My brain knows it. My body knows it. My soul knows it.

Last night I went to the symphony. It was marvelous! (I've splurged on season tickets this year as they are both a great deal and a wonderful balm to my soul.) The first piece they played was by Jean Sibelius (of whom I'd never heard - I'm kind of a classical music nincompoop) - Violin Concerto in D Minor, Op. 47. It showcased a solo violinist who was out of this world! And the music - it was so sad. It instantly transported me back to Dad's hospital room, to the day he died, planning his funeral. It was like the piece of music was written to express all the phases of losing someone you love. My heart was so moved, and so fed at the same time. Wonderful and so beautiful.

All this is to say that these two things have brought me to reflect on what miracles we are. Our bodies alone are wondrous in the speed with which they respond. The soloist last night played with speed and precision, her fingers making tiny moves along the strings, the bow moving furiously at times. And out of all that frenetic movement, a wondrous sound emerges - precise, beautiful, amazing!

A fingertip touches a hot pan and nearly instantly messages are conveyed that I should draw away, and my body responds. I hear my dad's name in a greeting, and without time to think, my brain leaps around to places I couldn't possibly have planned.

I am in awe of the wonder of our brains and our emotions.

We are made in a marvelous way. We are miracles roaming this earth - the complexity of our bodies, our minds, our souls and how they are intertwined. Fascinating, wonderful, beautiful.

And all this wonder works together as my body and mind work out my grief and healing, as I garden, as I spend time with lovely people, as I play with nephews and hike with friends. I am amazing and so thankful for my good health this fall. Look how I've healed! I am a wonder to behold.

Blessed day

2011-10-08T10:32:00.004-06:00

The first snow of fall is coming down, filling the sky, but not sticking to the ground yet. The flakes are big and fat, like nature's sparkles in the air, and I have a quiet day at home to snuggle in and enjoy the quiet that winter brings. My windows are closed for the first time in months, and so I can't hear the traffic. There are no neighbors mowing. There are no dogs outside barking. The neighborhood has the hush of a winter's night - and it is only October.

Today I was going to go with a good friend into the mountains to see the beautiful fall leaves, but the mountains are expecting 3-6 inches of snow, and I didn't feel like braving the roads. Instead I made waffles for my neighbors and me. :-) It was lovely - them in their pajamas, sleepy-eyed, and me deeply gratified that they feel comfortable enough to slouch on over and eat breakfast on a Saturday morning. Not a small blessing - but one that fills me in the deep places of my heart.

And now my day is empty with nothing I have to do. Sure, I could do laundry (and still might), but I might also just sit and read, or write, or nap. I might take a walk in the cold. I might pick some lettuce in the snow and have a crispy, cold salad with my grilled cheese. I might call a friend. I might write a letter.

I might sit and stare out the window at the golden leaves, the trees that are still fully green, and the white flakes that are falling.

Splinters

2011-10-05T07:35:00.004-06:00

I wake early in the morning from a dream. Dad is gone, so is Mom, and we have to sort out the clues of where they've gone and why. And as I lie in my warm cocoon, Egg pressed against my face as we share my pillow, both of us under the blankets, his paw in my hand, my fuzzy mind sorts out the dream and reality.

Mom and Dad are gone, and it isn't the why they've gone that needs sorting, but the how we go on. My eyes fill with tears. Some days without Dad are beginning to feel normal, and the missing isn't such a deep pain. But still, the painful days are deep in my gut, and despondence flits across my day like a skipping stone - causing ripples across the whole pond.

Like splinters that scatter across the forest floor when a giant tree falls, I have boxes of Mom and Dad's stuff to sort through. What tangible splinter of memory will I keep, and what will I relinquish, trusting that the memory ... without the touchstone of this item, this trinket, this photo, this hat, this bowl ... trusting that the memory will remain intact.

And perhaps the hardest part of letting go is not really the physical, but letting go of the memories themselves as little by little, so many of them slip away, and most of what you're left with is the essence of the person, like strong perfume in a vacated elevator. Of course I have many specific memories of both Mom and Dad, and always will, but some things I thought I'd never forget, like the sound of her voice, are foggy and distant, and the letting go, the not working to hold onto it, the recognizing it is all right to leave it behind is a pain and a grief in itself.

So I start this morning teary and weary from my last hour of sleep. But the sun is rising golden and lovely with that particular glow of fall, I have a day to be quiet at home, and I can salve my heart with hot tea, prayer, and the comfort of knowing that, despite the pain and sorrow, my life is full of good things that daily sustain me.

A tree

2011-10-03T18:11:00.003-06:00

There is a tree in my neighborhood that must be one of the prettiest in the city.

Is it the particular spread and lie of its branches?

Is it the shape and size of its leaves?

Is it the just-so yellow color that it turns?

It spreads beautifully with long, graceful branches making it as wide as a house, and the proportions of its width and height are just right. It turns the most beautiful shade of yellow, and is one of the first trees in our neighborhood to fully blossom with fall color, making it stand out even more.

My neighborhood has something else that distinguishes it - a special high school that focuses on reaching kids who are about to permanently fall through the cracks - kids from the worst homes, kids with criminal records, kids to whom no one has payed enough attention. The 125 year old brick building has seen an awful lot of the world pass by its doors, and now it is a confluence of old and new ideas, methodologies, philosophies. It is a place where these special and often downtrodden kids can come and learn in a way they might not have expected, and be respected by adults in a way they may have never before experienced.

The most beautiful tree and this wonderful high school are on the same block. Why should I be surprised that these two things exist together? That tree, a living proof of adaptability, changing season by season, yet somehow the same year after year, is such an example of life itself. It is death and renewal, it is jaw-dropping beauty in the middle of the city, it is learning how to thrive where you're planted.

And the kids have that chance, too. Day after day the block is filled with kids lounging, talking, waiting for rides, buses, girlfriends. Day after day they walk past that tree. Do they see how beautiful it is? Do they believe they can grow and mature and change and adapt and learn to thrive? Do they see the beauty right in front of them, and inside themselves?

I hope so.

Life

2011-09-30T19:48:00.002-06:00

I am struck by the turning of the Earth, of days passing by, of quiet moments, of days filled to the brim, of shared laughter, of shared worries.

One friend, brand new to marriage, struggles to find her place, her rhythm in the new dance. Another friend, worn down by life, learns of a new physical malady that will follow her the rest of her life.

I spent today (and yesterday, and will spend tomorrow) cooking. Cooking mashed potatoes, green bean salad, chicken pot pie, bread pudding and bourbon sauce - all good things to satisfy and bring a smile. My first official catering job in Colorado! I'm excited, full of questions about the future of this venture, and ready to serve it up!

Life's twists and turns are strange, and so often take us by surprise. In my quiet house, on this quiet evening, I contemplate my life, the lives of those I love.

I hope tonight finds you at peace, in a place where you feel loved, filled with joy.

Change of plans

2011-09-26T19:48:00.004-06:00

There is a tiny town in Colorado called Twin Lakes. As its name implies, it lies next to a pair of connected lakes which, I just found out, were originally formed by the morainal damming of Lake Creek by a Pleistocene glacier. The lakes are part of a rather stunning view that includes Mt. Elbert (the highest peak in Colorado). In the fall, this area's aspens are amazing as they turn to gold. Stunning, really. The mountainside looks like a patch-work quilt of yellow and green, and a hike along the southern edge of the lake takes one through a wonderland of beauty, twinkling golden yellow leaves, sparkling blue sky and water. Truly lovely. A sight to see.

For several years I have wanted to go on a fall camping trip to Twin Lakes. Last year was to be the year. Clearly that didn't happen, so that was one of my goals for this year: to camp at Twin Lakes while the leaves were at their peak.

It didn't happen. Long story that I won't bother telling here.

But something wonderful happened instead. Something that felt miraculous, like a gift just for me. My birthday just keeps going on and on! :-)

Friday night Tim said, "Let's use your new fire pit and have a little cookout with Brian and Sarah (our new, wonderful neighbors). So off we went to the store to get our supplies - hot dogs, burgers, stuff for coleslaw, etc. A great evening - friends, fire, yummy food!

And Saturday? Oh, Saturday!

I got to spend the whole day - morning to night - with a wonderful, incredibly busy friend whose life right now is kind of hard and full of challenges. We drove one of my favorite mountain roads (especially in the fall), saw the beginning of the changing leaves, took a wonderful hike in my favorite (so far) state park, made our leisurely way home, cooked dinner together, watched a movie. A day jam-packed with girl time, friend time. We talked of spiritual matters, problem-solved, laughed, told stories, sat in the sun at a beautiful lookout, and just enjoyed one another. It was a miraculous day.

I must say, I am sad not to have slept under the stars, awakened to the chilly, mountain air, taken that hike I love along the lake.

But honesty, Tim and I were worn out by last weekend. It was wonderful to not have to pack up, drive a couple hours, all that stuff. And the day with my friend? Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Weekend update...

2011-09-12T04:33:00.005-06:00

I've been remiss. I haven't been writing much. So much for being a professional blogger. Ha ha! :-)

Let's see ... what's been going on?

I had a lovely birthday - two celebrations! One spontaneous one with friends, and one lovely one with family! They both added to my joy and sparkled up my life. Fried chicken at one and Chinese food at the other. Wonderful!

My fall harvest garden is coming along nicely.

I've already had a salad with my lettuce (didn't wash it, though - a gritty error)
the radishes will be ready to harvest any day
the beets are growing slowly but well
my peas haven't bloomed yet, so I'm skeptical of a harvest there
the kohlrabi is profuse (yum!)
and I'm about to plant spinach

Such fun! :-)

I'm working on catching-up on some of my housework. I really let things go to pot this last year (wonder why?!), and so am trying to get some things back under control. You know, return to some patterns that have worked in the past - things like washing clothes before the pile overtakes the whole bedroom floor, washing dishes before you run out of plates, sweeping before the dust bunnies organize themselves and begin attacking the cat. You know - just the basics. :)

Actually, I could make a kind of boring list of all the little things I'm doing that keep me busy, but I won't bother with that. Those are just the highlights. :-) Hmmm ... a birthday, gardening, and housework? How did that get in the highlight list? There must be something else interesting I've been doing, but at the current hour (won't tell you what time it is or why I am up at this wee hour of the morning), my brain isn't functioning too well.

"So why are you blogging?" you might ask. Good question. Uumm ... yeah ... Egg made me do it?

Tee hee hee ...

Me (giggle...)

2011-09-04T14:32:00.003-06:00

Yesterday morning I awakened to fall. Seemingly we'd overnight turned the corner away from summer. I know we'll have some more hot days, some more days when the sweat drips off as I work in the yard or hike my favorite trail, but once again the end of the dog days are in sight. It's like a little gift just for me.

You see, tomorrow is my birthday. :-)

Last year I don't even really remember the day itself. I was still in la la land, on the slow road of recovery.

This year I'm filled with a silly, bubbling of joy.

I am filled with joy and thankfulness for my parents, whose bodies made me, whose love molded my life, whose lives so deeply influenced mine. I had extraordinary parents. Have I mentioned that? Of course, they had flaws. I don't have some kind of crazy delusion about their perfection, but they were rather wonderful people who strove to parent well. I grew up knowing I was loved and valued.

I am filled with gratitude for my health. I've healed "perfectly" (says my surgeon) from the scalpel's rude intrusion into my body. I am once again symptom-free from the endometriosis. I am getting stronger and stronger as the year goes along and I hike, ride my bike, garden, walk.

I am learning more and more about God and his love for me. It impacts my life not less and less as I grow in understanding, but more and more as my wonder grows along with that understanding. I am so deeply flawed, and I mess up so often, but I hope that I am growing as a person, learning to love better, getting wiser as my body gets stronger.

My life is good.

Yeah, yeah, I have difficulties (don't we all?). Yes, I miss my mom and dad so very much, etc., blah, blah, blah. Why list my troubles here, today?

The primary thought in my head is: My life is good.

And tomorrow is another day for me to say "thank you".

Ahhh...

2011-08-30T22:22:00.003-06:00

Where have I been?

On vacation. Following the USA Pro Cycling Challenge bike race across Colorado. Enjoying the mountains, the quiet, the escape from the daily grind. Swimming, walking, riding bikes, watching movies, sleeping in, eating fun food, cooking lovely meals for me and Tim.

Enjoying all that vacation means.

Our lives feel pretty stressful right now. I could list all the reasons, but I don't want to bother. Needless to say, this was a much-needed break from life. We needed the time away from home. We needed the time together. We needed the restful, quiet days filled with nothing.

It has been lovely. The bike race was incredibly fun to watch (there might be more to come about that). The meals we enjoyed were super tasty. The condo was so comfortable. The weather was perfect.

We head home tomorrow and I'm kind of down about it. I need to remind myself of all the good things that await me there. I need to focus on how much I have that gives me joy. So tonight we'll watch one more movie, have a great night's sleep, and have a beautiful drive home tomorrow.

Deep breath. Dive back in.

Up and down

2011-08-17T08:21:00.003-06:00

I feel really sad today. Deep down sad. But I can't seem to figure out why...

Is my body remembering my surgery a year ago today - and the stress that surrounded it?
Is it the tough decisions I need to make about this one friendship?
Is it the anticipated time with my nephews I won't get this week?

Sure wish I could pinpoint where this feeling is coming from so I can get rid of it. I guess I'll just have my breakfast, get on with my crazy, busy day, and see if I can work it out of my system.

Today is Tim's birthday, and we're having a very small celebration with his parents this evening. Tim isn't excited about his birthday. He feels no need to celebrate getting older. He is, indeed, feeling his age, and isn't enjoying that process much at all. Maybe that's getting me down a little.

I said to him last night, "Well, let's celebrate a year of good health for me."

His face lit up with a smile, he gave me a big hug and said that was something really worth celebrating.

"You know," he said, "I told you last year that you never had to give me another present, and I meant it. Getting you safe and sound last year on my birthday was the only present I'll ever need."

I may be feeling sad this morning, but I'm also feeling incredibly grateful for my good recovery, for no more pain, for my health this year.

I'm thankful that with each passing month, my heart is a tiny bit more healed from losing Dad.

I'm thankful for my husband and all we share.

And I'm thankful for today, his birthday. As I told him last night, "Your birthday isn't about celebrating you being a year older. It's about celebrating you being born - and being here with me."

Happy birthday, my love.

Disaster

2011-08-11T17:11:00.003-06:00

So I have long hair. And it is indeed getting quite long. It is cheap to maintain, my hubby loves it, and it is easy to deal with.

For a long time I had short, blunt bangs. This summer I experimented with letting them grow out some. Yuck. I had to put product in them. They hung in my face. As they got longer I had these weird wings starting on the sides.

I decided to go back to my short bangs.

Went to a discount hair salon this afternoon after doing some grocery shopping.

The lovely young lady asked what I wanted. I told her and showed her a picture I liked. She seemed to understand perfectly. "Do you want them a little thicker?" she asked. "I think blunt bangs like that look better when they are a little thicker."

Well, sure! Let's try that!

Oh dear. I have returned home to short, blunt bangs and what looks like a funny hat on my forehead. The additional bangs this lovely young person added are not falling nicely like my old short bangs. They are kind of puffy and look weird.

Very weird!

Tears? Maybe.

But what do I do now? Grow out just the "thickening"? Keep them as they are? Get all my hair cut so these bangs don't look quite so weird? And get it done by Sunday so I don't show up at church looking like some crazy 4 year old who cut her own hair?

Well, at least hair grows.

That's about the best thing I can say about this.

Meanwhile, I see a ball cap or scarf in my very near future.

Cliche

2011-08-05T13:37:00.003-06:00

There was the thinnest, most delicate frosting of snow Pike's Peak yesterday morning. Summer, it appears, is losing its grip on us, and those dog days of heat are almost certainly nearing their end. We'll have a few more days in the 90s, but not many. The nights are already back in the 50s, and the heat of the day lasts but for a few hours.

All this reminds me of the passage of time, of the days and months of our lives. I am particularly thankful for this summer to be almost over - it means I've done all my firsts without Dad. First birthday, first Christmas, first Father's Day, first anniversary. And I'm quickly passing by all the dates that marked my own illness last year - CT scans, appointments filled with discouraging news, surgery, healing.

And mostly I'm thankful. Thankful that time does pass. That each sunrise and sunset bring a little more healing, a little more closure. That today's problems don't always have to be solved today - sometimes, when evening falls, we can just set aside all those problems, relax for the night, and face them again in the broad light of a new day.

I am thankful for time. I am thankful for my sunny yard filling with flowers. I'm thankful for each little beet growing in my garden. I am thankful for quiet evenings with Tim.

Life goes on. A cliche, but blessedly true.

Late, but better than never

2011-08-02T14:55:00.002-06:00

I must say I am a little excited.

In my quest to continue learning about boundaries, the limitations of my own body and mind, and balance in my life (which has translated this summer to once again paring down my schedule), I have a little more time at home - which feels incredibly good. I'm hoping this extra time in my own nest will facilitate some creative work this fall, namely - sewing. I'd LOVE to whip up a couple pretty fall skirts and insulated curtains for our bedroom. Yay! :-)

So there's progress in one area.

But the thing I'm really excited about today is this ...

... I have the tiniest sprouts of beets, carrots, and yellow summer squash!

"Oh, my," you might think, "isn't it a little late to be starting a vegie garden?"

Well, let me just tell you about that.

In my realization that I can't do everything I want (gasp! am I my father's daughter or what?!), this spring I decided to just let go of my hopes of having a lovely vegetable garden this summer. So sad! I didn't get to do much of that last summer, and so letting go of it for this summer was pretty hard. I decided, however, that my time was just too filled already.

So passed May, June, and most of July. And then I read a magazine article that sparked some thinking about a late summer planted - early fall harvested veg garden. What could I plant this late in our short growing season? What would still bear lovely fruit? I did some research, looked at maturity dates, and - lo and behold - there's actually quite a bit I can still expect to harvest.

So here's what I did. Last week I prepped my raised vegetable garden (and for me that means weeding. I'm a pretty lazy gardener...), bought the seeds I wanted, and staked out my plan.

As of yesterday, I have the teeniest, weeniest little beet greens showing, and today's examination revealed that my two summer squashes are going to pop out of the ground either today or tomorrow (I can just see them pushing past the dirt), and my carrots are beginning to sprout! I'm so excited!

To be honest, the carrots are a dubious late summer crop. I may only get the smallest, baby carrots, but that will be just fine with me. The summer squash may not have much time to produce, either, but it sure will be fun trying.

As to the sugar snap peas, kohlrabi, beets, radishes, lettuce, and mache (another salad green), I expect to have lovely, full crops of these through mid-Oct or at least through the first really hard frost.

And to top it all off, the rhubarb I transplanted from my dad's garden (notoriously hard to transplant I've heard - from an agronomist/gardener friend of mine) appears to not only be surviving, but putting out new leaves. Wonder of wonders, and joy to my heart!

Small pleasures, no?

Of course, I still don't think I can do everything I'd like ... but I'm just a little bit closer. :-)

With and without

2011-07-29T13:03:00.003-06:00

I'm watching an old episode of Project Runway - one where the designers' moms all show up on set to be their muse and model for the next project. They scream, burst into tears, hug, celebrate. The producers of these shows do this every so often - to pull at our heartstrings, to keep us watching, to get us emotionally involved. It works.

I cry, too, watching all these young people and their joy at seeing their mothers, and it is hard to describe the deep feeling in my heart, the immediate welling of tears.

My mom will never surprise me at the airport. I won't get a surprise phone call on my birthday or Christmas day. I won't ever get another precious Valentine's Day card from my dad. I'm having to learn how to do all those things, continue to celebrate all those days without a parent.

I miss my mom and dad. Mom's been gone since '96, but now having lost Dad makes me miss Mom more than I have for several years.

I'm an orphan. Not many people who haven't lost both parents really understand that. "You're an adult," you can see them thinking. "Why would you describe yourself that way?"

I'm not saying I am in terrible pain every day ... but I surely do miss them.

My heart is healing, in small steps, in a thousand small ways. I planted a fall-harvest vegetable garden, and each little seed seems to represent a step in my healing. Last summer and fall, contemplating a new garden seemed impossible, too painful. This summer and fall, that new life feels good, healing.

And as I manage my life, make choices about spending time with people, figure out the balance between serving others and taking care of myself and Tim, I find myself thinking about Mom and what she would have done. She had pretty good boundaries, and seemed to have a wisdom about all this. I'd love to hear her opinion, but I did have some good talks with Dad about it - and that will have to be enough.

After all, in the end the person I want to please is neither my mom nor my dad. It is God. Is he pleased with my life, my choices? Am I growing in the ways he would like? How can I discern that through the chaos and noise of this world?

So I keep moving onward, keeping planting new things, keep learning about myself and who I should be. All without a mom or dad to help guide me.

I miss my parents - sometimes in a searing, heart-pounding way - but even in the missing I can see the many who surround me, love me deeply, and walk the path with me.

Love is patient

2011-07-20T07:59:00.002-06:00

I woke up this morning - earlier than I'd planned - to the harsh rumble of gas-powered landscaping tools, shovels scraping against one another, the clanging of a pile of tools being unloaded. And I immediately grumbled and became angry. Finally a great night of sleep, and a morning that didn't begin, very first thing, with pain. Finally - but now the world is rudely intruding on my quiet and my peaceful rest.

Who am I angry at?

My neighbors for wanting a beautiful yard?

The landscapers for wanting to get an early start and minimize their hours in the heat of this summer?

I sit down to write a couple e-mails and take care of some neglected tasks and I am drawn to check on the blogs I follow. I see that A Holy Experience was posted just 3 minutes ago. Fresh words - am I the first to read them this morning?

And what words they are - leading me to slow down for another minute, to think about my day, my life, to stop and think about patience.

Wonderful words. I hope they encourage you today.

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2011/07/when-youre-finding-it-hard-to-be-patient/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29

Both sides now

2011-07-19T06:49:00.005-06:00

They're coming thick and fast now, and lasting longer, and more intense, and last night waking me with throbbing pain, leaking into my dreams, and still half asleep I somehow thought someone was dying because of my pain - that weird mixture of waking and sleeping when our dreams bleed into wakefulness, but we can't quite separate the two, and when pain makes everything surreal. I remember crying out before I knew I was still dreaming, before I was fully awake.

I gingerly walk to the bathroom to spill medicine into my palm, wash it down with water. Twice I do this between lights out and sunrise. As the morning comes, my pain is diminished but not gone, and I am worn out from the beating I've taken through the night.

This has been a summer of headaches - almost daily, but until just a couple days ago brief and of low intensity. The barometric shifts? The intensity of the light? Research, reading, food diaries reveal nothing more for me to do than just wait it out ... or go on the preventative drug with all its weird side affects. But a night like last night makes me wonder - is it time? I'd so rather not.

Meanwhile, I'll do what I always do. Cancel what I need to. Keep doing what I can. Enjoy the days I feel good. Try to just rest and not get frustrated the days I have to lie around. There are, in fact, lovely elements of those bed-stay days - Egg's snuggling, fun movies, good books, naps, simple meals.

And I'm having plenty of good days to hike, cook, enjoy summer.

Balance. It's all about balance. I can't control my body - that is a lesson learned many years ago, made more clear each year. So I will keep working to find joy even in the crazy hours, the days I'm awakened predawn with pain but get to see the sunrise, hear the first bird's call.

Because the bottom line for me is ... I've tasted and seen that the Lord is good. The flavor of his goodness stays on my tongue and drives away the bitterness of ugly days. Not pious cliche, but experienced truth. I've said it before and I'll continue to assert it.

Balance. Rest. Beauty. Goodness.

The other side of the coin.

Some things are just so simple

2011-07-12T19:51:00.004-06:00

For someone who likes to cook as much as I do, I must confess that I do not like cooking in the summer. My kitchen has very little air flow, and so using even one burner heats up the room beyond what seems reasonable. And we have a gas grill, but I just am not in the habit of using it, or even remembering to use it. Maybe I should hang a sign over my stove: Go Use the Grill!

For Christmas my lovely sister gave me subscriptions to 2 magazines, one of which is Everyday Foods, a Martha Stewart publication. (No matter what you think about this crazy lady, I think she is amazing. She remains the head of a giant empire that, after years and years, continues to put out good products. I think that's rather remarkable.)

Back to the story...

So Sis' gave me this magazine for Christmas, and I've used it a little, but not tons and tons. Around rolled summer and I began to turn to it more and more as I wanted to be in my kitchen less and less. And this week - a revelation. Two revelations. Actually, three. ;-)

Revelation One: If I have groceries in the house and plans for simple meals, getting dinner ready doesn't take much time (or require much sweating). Is that a revelation? Shouldn't be at 41, but sometimes I forget the basics. We've been low on groceries and food plans since...about last June. Go figure...

Revelation Two: A simple and delicious salad. Try this one - it really is quite yummy and, seriously, took about 10 minutes to put together. I myself am not a lover of canned tuna, but never the less enjoyed this. (Try it with leftover chicken, fish, or steak. Yum!)

Cucumber and Celery Salad with Tuna (serves 2 - easy to double)

1 tsp poppy or sesame seeds

1 1/2 Tbsp rice vinegar (would probably be just as delicious with cider or any other kind of vinegar)

1/2 Tbsp sugar

1 Tbsp olive oil

about 3 c. cucumber, peeled, halved lengthwise and cut into 1/4" half-moons

2 celery stalks, cut into 1/4" pieces (include inner leaves)

about 1/2 c sliced or chopped radishes (optional, but I challenge you to try it!)

1 (5 oz.) can solid white tuna in water, drained and flaked

coarse salt and pepper

In a medium bowl, stir together seeds, vinegar, sugar and oil. Add cucumber, celery, radishes, and tuna. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately. Yum!

Revelation Three: In the freezer section of your grocery store, I bet you can find resealable bags of little dinner rolls (uncooked). Know what you can do with these little babies? (You probably already know this...) You can make individual size pizzas! Another easy, quick, and low-heat treat from your kitchen this summer. Roll these babies out, put them on a cookie sheet lightly sprinkled with cornmeal, preheat the oven to 500' (or use the grill?), and top them with whatever you want. Tonight I sprinkled my dough with a little olive oil, salt and pepper, then minced garlic, shredded mozzarella, chifonnaded basil, thinly sliced roma tomatoes, and last - thin slices of fresh mozzarella. 500' for 10 minutes and ... voila! Delicious!

I guess these things won't revolutionize my life, but they made me smile! :-)

Satisfaction

2011-07-12T15:46:00.005-06:00

She needed the address and phone number of her old landlord. Just having moved here from out of state, and trying to get assistance with her housing, this information was critical, but like so many who come into the downtown public library for help, she didn't have very much pertinent information that could assist me as I tried to help her.

She had his first name. She remembered the city she'd lived in. And I had the idea to search for a realtor near her old address - she had that on her license. Thank goodness she had that piece of information.

We searched a couple different ways ... then all of a sudden, in the list of realtors (narrowed down by proximity to her old address), there was a name she recognized.

"That's it!" she smiled and pointed to the computer screen.

Mission accomplished. First and last name, address, phone number - all located for this woman who was so in need.

What an amazing feeling - to be able to come to work and help people in such a real and tangible way. Yes, we at the library feel like we spend an awful lot of our time finding useless information, helping people with things that seem very insignificant (the MTV top 100 videos of 1985?).

But every once in a while, we get to help someone with something that actually makes a difference in their lives.

I'm thankful for this wonderful opportunity. I'm thankful that my body allows me to work these few hours a month. I'm thankful for my truly excellent co-workers who always welcome me with a smile and treat me just like a regular. I'm thankful for the smiles of the patrons who are thankful in return.

-----------------------

(There are silly times, too. Just now I walked over to a table of friends who were looking at a laptop, laughing, talking animatedly. "Ladies," I said with my most serious face on, "you're clearly having too much fun. I'm going to need you to turn that computer around so I can see what you're having so much fun doing." Our serious faces all broke into smiles and giggles.

"We're looking at dream houses!" they tittered, and proceeded to give me a virtual tour of one they were all oogling. There's silliness here, too, if you let it in. Shh - don't let that secret out.)

----------------------

A series of obscure books he didn't think we had available. A favorite movie from childhood. A map of train routes to Oregon. Information about a new medical diagnosis. A safe driving route across the Rockies in the middle of winter and the forecast of approaching storms. An old landlord's name and phone number so she can get help with housing here in our fair city.

How many jobs give you the chance to smile at so many people in one day, and sometimes, just every once in a while, make a real difference in someone's life?

Buzzing

2011-07-11T10:07:00.003-06:00

There are these trees blooming in my neighborhood that are covered with flowers - clusters of light yellow, delicate flowers that smell divine. Walking around the neighborhood this morning, strolling down the sidewalk, I heard a pretty loud buzzing. Bees. The tree was filled with busy bees going about their business, making their living, collecting pollen from all those lovely flowers.

It was amazing to stand beneath that tree and listen to the sound - one that is usually pretty malignant, that makes us cringe and look around to see where the buzzer might be. The stinger, really - that's what we're looking for.

But I just stood there, looking up, watching them contentedly gathering. They took no notice of me.

It felt like a metaphor for my summer. (Maybe this will be a stretch...)

Things are just buzzing along. My days are pretty busy - in fact, my schedule is more filled than I'd like. I haven't done but one tiny stitch of gardening (mixed metaphor), haven't been cooking very much, and am only getting in a hike every other week or so. (I keep thinking to myself, "Well, I can't do everything.")

My old complaint - that my schedule feels out of control. "What else is new?" those you who know me are thinking. Seems like I have to do this paring every 6 months or so...at least. :-) Something about me, my life, the way I live. So I'll once again try to pare things down and make room for other things - the gardening and hiking and family and cooking.

But it is, after all, summer. Summer seems to be busy for just about everyone. Kind of crazy, isn't it? The kids are out of school, we're all taking vacations, the days are long and hot - yet we run around like crazy people. It will be good to slow down a little.

Bliss

2011-06-27T21:52:00.004-06:00

I'm not writing much. And I'm not taking any pictures. I guess I just haven't had that much to say. Just ordinary summer days passing by.

But every once in a while something snaps into focus in my head.

A year ago today I was scrambling furiously to finish the slide show we wanted to use at Dad's funeral. I was sitting in that big church listening to people who had loved Dad for decades share their stories. I was wrapping up a week of hell and ready for what I was going to call my "blank day". I was about to collapse.

This will be quite a different week...and I am in quite a different place.

I don't feel tormented, exhausted, over-burdened, or overwhelmed.

I feel at peace, thankful for my father, thankful that I am not in emotional agony.

I am watching each of my flowers grow and my strawberries spread. I am figuring out how to organize my summer days, and wanting to get more time with my nephews. I am sort of coordinating a 4th of July camping trip, and figuring out what food I'll plan to make. I am trying to balance hiking and lovely yard work with boring house work. :-)

Tonight it is cool and quiet, and I can hear the train passing by downtown, a couple miles away. I spent the afternoon and evening with friends, cooked delicious fried rice for dinner, and am watching a little TV before bed. I read my sister's awesome blog and was reminded of that which is most important to me.

All in all, and especially compared to last June 27, today was just ... plain ... bliss.

One year

2011-06-22T16:04:00.005-06:00

I know these things are true...

My dad loved me as much as a father could.

Dad knew how much I loved him, too. We spoke tender words and affirmed our love before he died.

God blessed my dad with a second family, who he loved just as much as his first. Janice, Matt and Melissa were precious to Dad and are precious to me.

God used my dad in mighty ways through his whole life. A whole book could be written about this.

Dad was passionate, quick-tempered, and had a hearty laugh. He also had a chuckle that was soft and infectious.

When my mom died, I thought I would die in my grief. I don't feel that way this time around. It's not that I don't miss him, because I certainly do, but I am so much more at peace. It falls on me like a soft, gentle rain. I am thankful.

I miss Dad - and I am deeply saddened to have to live so much of my life without either parent.

God loves me and will carry me through each and every one of those years.

I love you, Dad.

Almost here

2011-06-21T21:57:00.003-06:00

I'm kind of floating through this week in a strange awareness of what took place on each date last year, but somehow it isn't getting me very down. It feels kind of weird. Missing Dad terribly isn't translating as much to pain and sorrow. It is just a missing...

I anticipated Father's Day, expecting a day filled with pain and sadness. Instead, I had a quiet day mostly to myself that was filled with thankfulness and peace for who Dad was to me, the life he lived, what he meant in my life.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of his death, and who knows what that will bring. I might wake up feeling really sad. I might wake up with this same feeling of peace I've had all week.

I do feel a little strange. I am kind of out of it, not thinking too clearly, a little fuzzy in my head. I'm clearly not quite myself ... but at the same time, I'm not feeling incredibly down or overwhelmed by sadness.

Does it feel like it's been a year? Yes. It feels like it's been several years. Is it because of everything that happened in my own body so soon after Dad's death - that I feel this weird sense of so much time passing?

Who knows. All I know is that I am thankful to not have the gut-wrenching, almost unbearable days of sadness I had surrounding the first anniversary of my mom's death. I am so thankful to be able to spend more time and emotional energy on the good stuff - appreciating who Dad was, how loved I was, and how much I loved Dad.

I miss him. I miss his voice, his touch, his support. I miss so much about him.

And I'm thankful for him. So thankful...

Just thoughts

2011-06-18T08:19:00.004-06:00

The past week has just flown by!

I went on several lovely hikes with fun friends.

Tim and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary by spending a day wandering around in the mountains, hiking, exploring...and changing a tire in the middle of nowhere! :-)

I worked a couple shifts at the library - always fun to catch-up with old co-workers.

But I also felt this building awareness of the passing of anniversaries - Dad coming home, Dad going into the hospital, Dad's diagnosis....

Last night I sat down and read a bunch of my blogs from last summer. I started the summer much like I started this one - planning to hike and garden, walk with a friend every week, shop at the farmers' markets. And then things just disintegrated.

Last night I once again felt my losses and remembered the weight of everything that happened - starting in May with Tim's bike accident and shoulder injury, all the way to the recovery from my surgery in the fall.

I am trying to not feel panicked about this summer. I am trying to not feel like I have to squeeze in everything I possibly can before the summer disappears into difficulty. I am trying to just live day by day, in peace, not expecting bad things to happen.

And tomorrow is Father's Day. Now I have two days a year that I'll want to hide from the world.

I miss Dad.

I know I'll be all right, and I'm certainly not feeling this way all the time, but for today and tomorrow - yuck.

A friday morning's ramble

2011-06-12T09:18:00.005-06:00

The most incredible things happen to me.

One friend tells me I'm like my mother, another speaks words of care and empathy. And as I drove in one morning's misty rain, God poured into my heart a song with just the words I needed to hear.

This seems to be for me a season of affirmation and love. I am surrounded by love, filled by it, buoyed by it. What else will this summer bring? What is this building-up of my self leading to? Is there something new on my horizon?

Each new day, brought in by birdsong and the sparkling sunshine, feels like a gift.

May it be a summer of wonder. Incredible.

Sarah

2011-06-10T06:06:00.010-06:00

I sleep with my windows open now, and at times the air is scented with the sweetness of the Russian Olive trees' lemon-colored blossoms. The trees are sage-green, thorny things that grow well in our semi-arid climate, and I would say they are not a favorite of most people. I love them, though. I love the juxtaposition of their light green leaves and their reddish-brown bark. I love the delicacy of their leaves and and the lacy pattern they create against fences. I love how rugged yet fancy they look.

I've heard they make a mess, though. They drop olives all over the yard that have to be raked up, and their 2-inch thorns make them a daunting foe. So they're beautiful, but kind of a nuisance.

I love this time of year, when the air is full of their scent. It is sweet without being cloying, and floats on the breeze, coming in at the most unexpected moments. I step out of my car at the grocery store, and there it is. I lie down at night to read before going to sleep, and it floats in. I walk to a friend's house, and it follows me there.

That's just like beauty though, isn't it? Unexpected, showing up at the strangest moments, but almost always to be found if looked for. Do you walk around with your eyes wide open? Do you expect to see you beauty, or are you so busy, so harried, so frustrated that you miss what is right in front of you? I sometimes am...

What if you had a whole extra day each week just to see. Would you? Or would you fill it up, too?

What if you had one extra hour every evening around sunset just to find the most beautiful ray of light? Would you? Or would dinner and the kids and the hours of the day overwhelm you?

I have a friend who sees beauty all around her, every day, everywhere she goes. And she stops to take pictures. She talks about it. She tells the stories.... "Today I was walking to the corner store and look - the sun was shining in such an amazing way! Look at these leaves! Don't they look like glass...or jewels?"

I want to make that choice - to see. To live each day with my eyes wide open. To miss nothing. To never be too busy to stop for just one second and see what is all around me - beauty. In one perfect bloom. In the sun's glint off a piece of broken glass. In the footprint of a dog. In the deep green of the unmown grass. In the beautiful colors of my chopped vegetables. In the print of my favorite sundress. In the stained glass of the leaves outside my window. In the birdsong in the early morning. In the hazy heat of a July afternoon. In the song on the radio. In the smile of that child.

See...

Thanks, Sarah, for your eyes...and your pictures. Fall, 2010, Shooks Run, Colorado Springs, my corner. :-)

Sarah and I were sitting on my porch talking and she noticed this beautiful, late afternoon light. She asked for my camera, ran to the corner and took these pictures. Sarah sees.

Follow me

2011-06-10T05:51:00.002-06:00

For those of you who would like to receive automatic e-mails whenever I write a new post, I've added a "follow me" gadget to my blog. Scroll down past the blog archive and sign-up there. Easy as pie!

Honored

2011-06-08T18:19:00.004-06:00

I was working in his mother's kitchen, and he offered his knives to me. An actual Johnson and Wales graduate, a bona fide chef, a craftsman gave me permission to use his tools.

And he liked my food. He liked my food.

Wow.

His compliments touched me deep down inside - way beyond simple ego. Me - a totally untrained, home cook, who has dared to begin teaching cooking classes, and is toying with the idea of catering - made food that he truly enjoyed. Wow .... wow.

I wish I could express this better. I wish I could somehow convey the swell in my heart that wasn't just my pride, but who I am. The me who shows people love by feeding them, who expresses creativity by cooking, who has worked hard to learn and improve my skills.

Thanks for the compliments. Thanks for the affirmation. Thanks for enjoying this part of who I am.

Love

2011-06-07T10:07:00.012-06:00

I am overwhelmed with emotions.

I am exhausted from hard work.

I am filled up to the brim with love.

I got home last night from North Carolina where I attended the wedding of my very good friend Sarah. What can I say? I have too much to say, too many thoughts and feelings swirling around inside my brain and heart... It was a whirlwind of work, 3 days of fun and accomplishing much together, meeting new people and feeling like I'd known them for years, serving one another whether in the lovely air conditioning or outside in the sticky NC heat.

Whew! Just stopping long enough to think about what to say brings tears to my eyes. When I came home last night, I told Tim I was pretty overwhelmed emotionally. Why? Why wasn't this just another wedding?

... because hanging out with a bunch of MKs (missionary kids) brings up memories, feelings and so much of my history and heart ...

... because watching Sarah and her two sisters interact with their dad made me miss my own dad very much ...

... because I was lavished with love for days on end ...

... because I got to spend a couple days in a kitchen cooking up pots of love for wonderful people.

And Sarah, the bride? She is amazing. In the midst of her incredible to-do list, her vision for this beautiful day, and the pressure that always lies on a bride, she was gracious, kind and sensitive to others. She seemed to find time and energy each day to affirm her love for me, to give me a hug, to thank me.

Was the trip, the work, the money spent worthwhile?

To be honest, it may be one of the most significant events in my adult life. I made new friends, I learned about myself, I was given opportunity after opportunity to lavish love on others and love was lavished on me.

Most of all, two amazing people who I love beyond words said their vows of marriage in front of God, their family and friends, and allowed me to be a part of that.

I am overwhelmed with emotions.

I am exhausted from hard work.

I am filled up to the brim with love.

My thanks to Veanez for the amazing pictures!!! You have a gift. xo

Faith and friendship

2011-05-26T16:31:00.003-06:00

She carefully peels and dices the eggplant, then places it all into the colander, gently tossing it with a generous amount of salt. "Just let it sit for a while," she says, "and the salt will draw out that bitter liquid."

Is this what faith does for us? Helping to draw out of us the bitter, the bile that can build up in our very flesh, causing our hearts to turn to stone?

This seems to be true of friendship, too.

In fact, faith and friendship seem to share several qualities...

...both require action on the part of all parties involved

...both add fullness and joy, peace to life

...neither is totally under our own control

...they can both be as comforting as they are challenging - sometimes easing life; sometimes asking for tough choices, and requiring the examination of anything but easy answers

One of my oldest and dearest friends visited me this past weekend. We talked and talked. We cried a little. We hiked. We laughed and ate. We shared as much as we could in 3 days time.

How is it that we are so close, but only lived in the same town for about a year, and that at the very beginning of our friendship. How has this thing grown and matured over a decade and more?

Work.

Faithfulness.

A gift from God.

I miss her already. She helped draw out some of my bitterness and I feel better than I did before her visit.

She helps my faith grow.

She points me to God.

She loves me, and I love her.

Miss you, friend...

Stuck like glue

2011-05-09T09:07:00.003-06:00

Today is our 25th anniversary ... of our first date.

This date marks the beginning of our love. From this date twenty-five years ago, we haven't spent a day apart in our hearts. All through the end of high school, all through college we never did the break-up/get back together thing. We were always together.

Twenty-five years. A quarter of a century.

We were so young! And all we knew was that we really like each other. But that liking soon, so soon, matured into love, and much too soon for my parents' comfort, it was declared real love, life-long love.

How could our young hearts have known what we wanted for our future? I've never had a very good answer to that.

But it has stuck.

Not perfectly and without conflict. Not without perennial issues that every time they raise their heads we think, "This again?" Not without long-term, nagging struggles that seem foolishly unresolved. Not without struggles, pain, and some heartbreaking stuff.

But with love.

With joy.

With tons of fun.

And I am so thankful.

I'm still in love. And so is he.

Choice

2011-05-07T06:40:00.004-06:00

I want to write a post that is filled with joy and fun! I want a day that is marvelous with no sadness. I want to not miss Dad every day.

But I don't want to be fake.

It's not like I'm sitting around constantly fighting back tears. And I certainly am still enjoying plenty of things - laughing out loud, even! And I'm even planning fun - one of my very best friends is visiting me, and I've got tickets in hand for two Rockies games.

But this grief thing just drags on and on. I know this is perfectly natural. I know I will work through it on my own time, and that I don't have too much control over how long that takes. After all, it hasn't even been a year yet.

This Sunday I hope to get away to the mountains by myself with a good book, my journal, some music, and maybe The Good Book. I want to read some Psalms, spend some time journaling, telling God what's going on in my heart, give Him all that's on my heart and allow Him to work it out like pulling taffy. Not disappear the sadness like a good fairy with a magic wand, but rather take this bone-deep sorrow, these tears, and heal them, transform them into something that will make me stronger, more tender, more filled with grace toward others, more reliant on Him, and more easily turned toward joy.

I love this God who loves me. I love His heart for me. I love that He wants to fill my life with joy. And I reach out my hands and say, "Yes! Lay it on me!"

I'll take that portion of joy, eat it up, and allow it to balance the sadness of missing Dad.

I can choose how I live my life. I will endeavor to choose joy.

The big sort

2011-05-04T18:24:00.004-06:00

Today Becky and I tackled cleaning out a bunch of Dad's stuff. Yuck. What a horrible job. We did it, though! And we gave each other a high five at the end of our day. And ate Indian food. Comforting. :-)

Dad's office...what can I say? We found several things that made us shake our heads. "Oh, Dad, what were you thinking?"

And we found other things that made us laugh out loud. Like the piles and piles of paper.

Yep. Paper.

Notebooks. Looseleaf. 3x5 cards. Printing paper. Manilla folders. Hanging files. Fancy resume paper. Christmas stationary. Hotel notepads. Sticky notes.

If there had been some sort of disaster (like Y2K) - he'd have been all stocked up.

And we cleaned out the last of his clothes. Oh, those seersucker shirts that he loved! And as we folded and sorted, it became rather obvious that his favorite kind of shirt was plaid. Blue, green, yellow, red. Didn't seem to matter.

Dad.

Becky said sometimes it feels like he's just on another trip.

I wish I sometimes felt that way. Like he'll be coming back in another month.

My dad. Sure did love him. Sure do.

Cotton

2011-05-01T10:54:00.006-06:00

In the whipping Texas wind, I stoop to pull balls of cotton from last year's old stalks. The fields are red in the spring sun, and are littered with loose cotton that wasn't scooped up at harvest. The soft clumps have blown and gathered into piles along the side of the fields, ready to be plowed back into the soil in the spring.

My mind goes to a story I once read of slaves picking cotton, the rough boles tearing their skin, the pace forced by the overseers not allowing for care or caution. I think about this as I fill my little bag. In my life, most choices are mine to make - about almost everything. To live as a slave? I can't begin to imagine it.

This cotton plant is such a picture of life. As I sit to write today, my mind is filled with so many different stories from the last two weeks that could spill onto the page - my sister's beautiful wedding, Tim and my fun trip down through New Mexico and across west Texas, the joy of coming home, the wonderful time with sisters ... but the fun week ending with news of the death of an amazing woman, a long-time family friend whose suffering had gone on for 50 years.

Good and bad, soft and iron-hard, the tender and the tearing. Life's journey. I cling to the knowledge that life has as much joy as it does sorrow, even though the sorrow sometimes seems to surround us like a fog. If I will keep my eyes raised up, if I will look to the sky, the sunshine will pierce through those clouds and illuminate my days. I don't walk in darkness.

Last week Melissa walked down the aisle in the fading light of a spring evening, aglow in her beautiful dress, she and Matt holding hands before he gave her into Jason's care. Their flower girls? Two of the cutest little twins ever seen in their tulle dresses banded with yellow ribbon, wandering through the crowd like ladybugs in a garden, flitting here and there.

And Marly? She was given a hard life to live, fraught with illness and pain. But she lived that life striving to smile, to speak of God's provision and love, to be brave and weak at the same time. Now her suffering is over, and in my mind's eye I see her with my mom and dad, with Tim's grandma, my friend Kittie - all these people I've loved now in the bright light of heaven, free and filled with rejoicing.

A bole of cotton, tough and hard, able to tear and wound, but filled with something so soft and lovely.

Choices

2011-04-17T17:51:00.004-06:00

Summer is coming, and with it all the tough anniversaries I've got to face for the first time.

the e-mail from Indonesia telling us Dad was sick
Dad came home
went into the hospital
got his diagnosis
the day he died
I got sick
I was told I might have cancer
my surgery

To a large extent, I have a choice in how I handle each of these. But I don't have total control. Part of the healthy process is to feel the pain, look the memory in the eye and feel what I need to. Otherwise, there's no processing and no healing. And I can't control how much it's going to hurt if choose to look right at it.

But I will choose not to dwell. I will not wallow. I want to make good, healthy choices and allow myself to heal, keep moving forward.

So I'll do that - I'll do my best to look my grief in the face, cry the tears I need to, then turn around and look back to the future. And all the while I'll keep asking God for help, for wisdom, for strength, assurance of His love, His tender care.

I'll tend my garden, go on hikes, watch baseball with Tim. I'll journal, cry, listen to beautiful music. And I'll look outside my windows at the beautiful, blue Colorado sky and thank God for each day of my life that I got to spend with my dad, each conversation we had or breakfast, and that I have a life so filled with good things.

I'll come through this season, this summer of tough memories, a little bruised, but not battered.

It's part of the simple beauty of the healing that time can bring.

Through the storm

2011-04-12T08:03:00.004-06:00

Today is Dad's birthday.

The sun is shining, my head is filled with beautiful music, and I have a busy day ahead of me. Those are all good things.

It is a great relief to know that this isn't the first of Dad's birthdays on which I haven't been able to call him or give him a gift - because of all his travel over the years. What a deep sorrow it must be for the first birthday to come of someone you love deeply when you've always been in the same city, or on the same continent as them.

For this small blessing, I am very thankful! It helps me miss him just that tiny bit less.

But I do miss him.

The band Casting Crowns has a song called Praise You in This Storm. The chorus speaks so directly to where God was throughout the last year of my life - all the turmoil, the pain, the worry, the heartache, the burden. I knew at the time, and looking back I remain absolutely certain, that God was with me, that he never left my side, and that every tear I've shed is in His care. He holds my heart tenderly, loving me, and giving me all I need through every moment of my life.

So, happy birthday, Dad! Now you know no pain. Now you have no fear or worry. You live in complete joy. You are understood and known completely. You are in the presence of the God you loved and served, and all your questions are answered.

And, Dad, we'll keep praising God - even in the storm.

I will praise you in this storm,

and I will lift my hands for You are who You are, no matter where I am.

And every tear I've cried You hold in your hand.

You never left my side,

and though my heart is torn I will praise you in this storm.

Bittersweet

2011-04-07T15:48:00.003-06:00

I sat at my friend's house and we both laughed, listening to the sound of her daughter playing in her room, her sing-song voice telling a story that only she could understand...

...and as I drove home I saw three children running with all their might, their mouths wide open in laughter, going who knows where.

Remember what it felt like to be young, to be filled with energy and excitement?

Remember how long you would play, and that Mom had to tell you over and over that it was time to get out of the pool?

And how far would you walk to get to the river, or how long would you ride your bike or hike or climb or build?

I cried some tears last night, thinking of Dad. His 74th birthday would have been next week, and what a youthful 74 he would have been.

When Mom died, I determined in my mind that it would be I who cared for Dad in his old age. Then he married again, and it took me a good number of years to accept without pain the truth that, being a good bit younger than him, his new wife would take on that role - she would care for him.

Turns out - neither of us got to do that. Dad left too quickly - but that's how he would have wanted it. No fussing, no lingering. Come on! Let's move on to the next great thing!

So I see these kids - hear their voices, watch them at play - and it is bittersweet. Time passes with harsh tugs on our hearts, our energies are poured into new things, we leave childhood behind.

And my youth is now behind me, middle age clearly in front of me. For some, I know the burden of caring for their parents is a heavy one. And understandably so.

For me, today at least, I mourn the loss of that yoke.

Another sign of the passing of time.

Discoveries...

2011-04-03T16:17:00.002-06:00

...Tai Pei brand frozen Orange Chicken is actually quite delicious!

...the cream cheese that oozed out of my bacon wrapped, cream-cheese stuffed jalapenos is amazing! I must find a way to produce that flavor for other uses.

...the Ikea cabbage light we inherited from a couple good friends looks quite wonderful in my "new" dining room. (Naomi, I owe you pictures!)

...I am appreciated by a lovely friend. Her words touched me deeply.

Nothing amazing today - just little things that have made me smile over the past week. :-)

When we were very young

2011-03-26T12:14:00.004-06:00

I was watching Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras play an exhibition match. They're both 40 now, just about the same age as me, and seeing all those old clips, remembering the passion of their rivalry, and the passion with which Tim and I cheered them on, brings back a flood of memories from the early days of Tim and my marriage.

This summer we'll celebrate the 25th anniversary of our first date, and our 20th wedding anniversary. Those are pretty giant milestones. I'm so thankful, beyond words thankful, indescribably thankful, for my amazing husband, our marriage, our relationship. Don't get me wrong - we have bad days, fights, large and small disagreements, just like every other couple. We have no magic potion, no miracle cures, no secret to a good marriage, but after all this time we still love each other. We still have fun together. We still want to be married to each other.

It hasn't been a particularly easy road, but is anyone's road easy?

We started out with grad school days for Tim - late nights and long hours for 6 years, but I have great memories of the camaraderie among Tim and his classmates, listening to his stories, explanations of his projects, squeezing in the few hours we could get together - a few dinners a week, those precious weekend days when he didn't have a project or a test due. The joy of watching him in his element, at his very best, not just succeeding, but soaring!

I remember the giant swell of pride as Tim received his M.S. and Ph.D. Is that what a proud parent feels like? I could have burst!

There were years when we struggled over the decision of whether or not to buy a $100.00 futon for our living room to replace the horrible couch our landlord had given us permission to discard. Could we afford that new pair of shoes? Should we spend the money on an anniversary date? We saved our pennies to make it through each month - and make it we did.

Then we got hit with those years of my mom's illness, and those years when I was laid down with bronchitis time and time again. And then the migraines came, and we both tried to figure out what to do, how to handle this new thing. But again, we made it, helped each other through, did what we needed to so we could keep laughing, keep some semblance of perspective.

I could go on and on. And on and on, describing the ups and downs of 25 years. My mind is full of memories - like the proverbial slide show of our lives. Ordinary days, holidays, time with friends, time alone, trips, vacations, sweet moments, bitter arguments, tough decisions, disappointments, floundering our way through, and flying high. Life.

And this wave of almost melancholy sweeps over me. Is it middle age? Is it the passing of time? A poem I wrote in the spring of 2005 comes to my mind...

Seasons

Here comes spring

slowly, slowly,

creeping toward my garden.

I'll wait 'til she steps foot in my yard,

then draw upon her warmth for inspiration.

This new plant, that spreading vine

bring to mind

the passage of the years

and the things that change in time.

Middle-aged am I?

What is thirty-five?

Time passes quietly, without a whisper.

The paving stones of our lives.

Time does indeed pass quietly, leaving a wake of memories and moments, captured in our minds like a spider in ancient amber. We can pick it up and look at it, the memory made more beautiful over time, set it down and look at another. Then turn our gaze to the present, the future, and get back to that basket of laundry, those bills that need paid, that man who needs dinner. And smile.

I don't know that my life so far has been any easier or more difficult than anyone else's. All I know is my own personal experience. I am thankful to be able to say, once again, that I have a good life. I am so often reminded of this by love shown to me, amazing things that happen, a good laugh with a friend, a fun time with a nephew.

Life is hard. That's just about guaranteed.

So you'd better get the most out of it - laugh as much as you can, enjoy each sunny day just for the quality of the light itself, rejoice in the sound of those raindrops, and the sound of your kids, and the voice of your beloved. Because, at least it seems to me, the good sure does outweigh the bad.

Thursday

2011-03-24T20:05:00.003-06:00

This morning I went over to a wonderful friend's house and we talked, laughed, cried a little, and prayed a lot. Lunch was chicken and waffles - just like at Rosco's! What a fun and silly morning, laughing and having a tea party with her four year old.

Early in the afternoon I had a chat with my wonderful sister, laughing about her boys, commiserating about our struggles, talking about wishes and plans.

Tonight I went out to dinner with two friends - one I've had for a while now, and one I just met. More talking, laughing, joking, stories.

As I left the restaurant, the sun having disappeared behind the mountains, the sky was the deepest blue, a few stars shining out. The mountains were in stark relief, black against the dark blue sky, and the tall office buildings sparkled with the lights left on.

The air was cooling down, as it has been all day, and the crisp breeze felt like a portent of our summer to come - warm days, cool nights brought in each evening by the breeze.

At home, I grilled a roast beef and cheese sandwich for Tim, made a grocery shopping list, and found out a wonderful, old friend is coming to visit me in May.

All in all, a pretty darn good day.

What if...

2011-03-23T10:54:00.003-06:00

Last Saturday I was watching a marathon of "Sex and the City" (gasps heard all around the world that Cindy was watching such a scandalous show!). Come on - I couldn't resist! They were doing a marathon of all the Mr. Big episodes...which of course, are the best. And it's cleaned up for cable - much less sex in the non-HBO city. :-)

Ok, refocus...

One of the characters said to her best friends...

"What if I had never met you?"

I stopped to think about that.

My goodness, how many amazing people, friends, co-workers I would never have known. I could write about people whose descriptions would fill this blog for a year.

"What if I had never met you?"

I could sit here and make a tremendous list of names, but I'd get the order wrong, I'd leave someone important off the list, I'd hurt someone's feelings.

But amazing fun times, heart-wrenching hours, trips, jaunts, quiet afternoons together, hours spent on my deck, in my yard, in the car, on the phone, at one another's houses - they are all flooding my mind, filling me with thoughts of love, warmth, and an amazing sense of gratitude for the people who have walked my life's journey with me.

I, unfortunately, tend to fall into the out of sight, out of mind category of friends. I think this comes from having moved so many times in my life. I quickly figured out that in order for me to emotionally survive and thrive, I needed to dig in, make friends where I lived. Again, unfortunately, this tends to leave a trail of friendships that have dwindled and faded as I've become involved in my new city, my new life - I just can't keep up with everyone. I wish I could. I wish I was made up that way. I've tried to change, but have failed again and again. So this is who I am.

But the friends I've left behind aren't forgotten. They are in my heart. Their significance in my heart isn't diminished.

"What if I had never met you?"

There are so many times I'd have felt all alone.

I'd have had to walk those tough days without your support.

I'd have missed out on the love you lavished on me.

I wouldn't have learned nearly as much.

I wouldn't have laughed nearly as often.

"What if I had never met you?"

I wouldn't be who I am today.

St. Patty's Day

2011-03-17T21:58:00.002-06:00

Well, St. Patrick's Day has once again passed me by with neither pomp nor circumstance. Instead I did housework, then worked my way through a pretty terrible migraine. Whew! I'm worn out!

But in honor of the day, and just for a few laughs, check this out...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU

Big day

2011-03-15T21:38:00.004-06:00

Today was my mom's birthday. She would have been 74. For me, today was a day of mixed blessings.

I spent hours with a good friend going to her various doctors' appointments. It was actually pretty fun, laughing, spending time with her, but I'm terribly sad that she's going through something pretty awful.

Today I began my duties as co-president of a women's organization of which I'm a part. It is humbling to have the trust of my chapter placed in my hands, and I am SO GRATEFUL to be sharing president duties with a great friend who I trust.

A day of ups and downs.

A small argument with Tim; a successful meeting that I chaired. Realizing I've gained some weight; recognizing the relative unimportance of that in the scheme of life. Being excited about hosting a youth event; then quickly realized I can't do that right now.

Ups and downs. Life.

And now to bed, snuggling with Egg, reading my book, waiting for morning, thoughts of Mom floating around. She was a remarkable woman - a simple statement that carries great weight in the minds of all who knew her. She would have been proud of the way I spent my day.

I'm content with that.

Normal

2011-03-14T08:19:00.004-06:00

Clearly I'm not feeling too inspired to write these days. I think that's because life is back to a somewhat normal routine. I feel almost normal inside, too. I still miss Dad so much. In giant waves that wash over me with little predictability. Sometimes at odd and inconvenient times. I recognize this. It happened with Mom, and still does ocassionally, but not as much.

It's amazing to know that the heart does heal. When Mom died, I thought I would die. I know that won't happen this time. I know that in a few years I won't miss Dad quite as much, memories won't stab like they do, and I'll be able to think about him without this pain.

So life is really getting back to some kind of normal with a full calendar, lots to do, working on projects, spending time with people. Actually, my life is kind of a whirlwind right now, but that's all right.

So I'm off to do what I do - starting with toast and hot tea. Sure wish I had something profound or funny to share, but it's just another day over here. Laundry, family, house, friends. Just ordinary life. :-)

Dilemma

2011-03-08T11:20:00.002-07:00

If you've already had to downsize your living space ...

and your house has wool moths that you just can't get rid of

and you already have more unfinished projects than you'd like

and you have several hobbies you really enjoy

... is now the time to get rid of that stack of felted wool that you were saving for beautiful projects?

Ahhh! I think I know the answer, but hate to get rid of things that have the potential to be beautiful. Today's very serious problem. :-)

A little sermon

2011-03-07T08:50:00.004-07:00

Doesn't it sometimes seem like too much is piling up on your plate and you just can't make any progress? And that, in addition to just the everyday stuff that feels like too much, life's disappointments keep piling up, too, and weighing on you?

I know sometimes I feel like that. I feel like I just can't get out from under things. My to-do list grows rather than shrinks, my body doesn't cooperate with all I want to accomplish, and I'm reminded of the losses in my life.

This morning I'm reminded of a verse from the Bible that has sustained me and given me great comfort since I discovered it in junior high - Jeremiah 29:11. Listen to this promise...

"I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you a future and a hope."

And then this morning, I read Psalms 12:6...

The promises of the Lord are promises that are pure, silver refined in a furnace...

What can I count on in this life? Hard times, struggles, sadness. But I can also count on joy, the sunshine that follows storms, seasons that change in waves of beauty.

And I can count on the promises of God. I know these things are true, because He has fulfilled these promises time and time again. Even this morning, when I'm feeling a little down, I can close my eyes and rest on those two promises, knowing that it will all work out in the end.

A cliche? Maybe. But still true.

A few random thoughts

2011-03-02T08:33:00.003-07:00

I'm getting excited!

My step-sister is getting married in just two months and the anticipation is building. Sure wish I could be there to help with plans, run errands, go flower shopping. She just lives too far away in west Texas. But we'll all go down for the wedding...and my sister Lisa is even coming from the Middle East! Yee haw!

I've been dress shopping and should be getting my lovely options this week. I'll try on 3 different dresses, and choose one - 2 of which were on sale! I think I'll look pretty. :-)

Life is going on here. We're having a snow-less winter, which doesn't make me too happy, but the spate of warm weather is getting me itchy to start gardening. We have literally months before it is safe to plant outside, though, so I need to just be patient. Patient!

And hiking! Last summer was going to be my summer of being outdoors, but clearly that didn't happen. I'll try again this year. Keep your fingers crossed.

Days and weeks fly by. I cook, do laundry, hang with lovely people, live my life. The light in the house changes as the weeks go by, and the Earth's tilt shifts toward the sun. God does big and little things in my heart, I catch-up with old friends, prayers are answered.

And life feels pretty good, pretty peaceful right now. I'm learning some new things about myself, and about how to live in peace. And that is just lovely.

Amazed

2011-02-21T09:51:00.003-07:00

I am reminded this morning, with my kitty asleep in the bed, sparkling sunshine easing through my windows, and my steaming cup of hot, sweet tea that I have quite a life. Yesterday at church I felt so surrounded by love - God's presence and love, my friends, my amazing husband. Tears welled up and spilled over.

This is a week of ordinary things - housework, Bible study, time with friends, errands - but things that regularly bring blessing to my life.

This morning I'm just writing to say how thankful I am, how amazed I am. I sometimes sit back and think about the last half of last year - the pain, sorrow, loss, struggle. How on earth did I get through that?

God.

And my family and friends.

But mostly God. And his love that just goes on and on and on...

Father's day

2011-02-06T08:45:00.004-07:00

Remember, remember?

Mom clipping coupons on Sunday evenings while we all watched football in the basement?

Dad teaching us, play by play, this game we didn't understand?

Every Saturday, those Air Force Academy games - in the cold and snow?

The football talk every fall - is this the year they'd go all the way? My optimism, his skepticism.

And last year's Superbowl, the whole gang having our own little party at Dad and Janice's house - but Dad sick in bed all day long, me going up and down the stairs, "Is he feeling any better yet?"

Remember all those fun Sundays watching football together? Remember, remember?

And today, once again, it's Superbowl Sunday. To me it kind of feels like Father's Day - I'm missing him so much. He loved football, and I've successfully avoided watching it all season. It just made me sad. So today I feel all jumbled up. Football is everywhere, meaning there's reminders of Dad everywhere, and today will be another weird day of grieving and having fun at the same time. Probably exactly what Dad would want - for me to be able to look my sadness in the eye in a healthy way, and not dwell on it, to enjoy a fun day with friends.

But until the fun begins, all I feel like saying is, "I miss you, Dad!"

Just to make you smile

2011-02-05T15:59:00.002-07:00

I sit here typing a few e-mails and Egg jumps up onto my desk, staring at me with those lovely eyes, mewing quietly and forlornly.

I type, every once in a while reaching over to scratch his head, under his chin, behind his ears. He does that eye-smile that cats do, and rubs against my hand.

"Meeoo," is what his voice sounds like. High-pitched and kittenish despite his 10 years (or so).

"Are you hungry?" I ask. "What is it you want?" He stares. He meeoos. I get up to give him just a little snack, but he doesn't follow me into the kitchen.

I walk back toward my desk and he's off - dashing toward the bedroom, leaping onto the bed like a flying cat, immediately flopping down on his side. A crazy eruption of energy, followed by tremendous purring. "Come pet me!" his body says. "Come have just a little winter-time snuggle!"

Isn't it nice to feel so... ok, I'll say it - adored. This little guys - he adores me! :-) Ahh - pet love...

Cozy Saturday afternoon

2011-02-05T13:25:00.004-07:00

It's snowing again here and the gray skies seem like the perfect backdrop for my life. I don't mean that in a negative way, but I do live a very domesticated kind of life, and gray skies with falling snow just seem like nature's blanket to my indoors, house-wifey life. Those gray skies feel comforting and cozy.

But don't we all sometimes want an adventure? What would mine be? Where would I go, and with whom? I can think of all kinds of things...

...going off into the wilderness to just "be" for a few days

...driving all over America, writing and taking pictures

...moving to someplace brand new and starting all over again...

But doesn't it also seem like life is in itself enough of an adventure - never knowing what's really around the bend? And to tell the truth, I like it when nothing of note is happening in my life. Again, not to be terribly negative, but it seems like an awful lot of the events in life that get the adrenaline going are tough things. And I've had enough of those for now.

So I think my adventures will remain in books and in my dreams - at least for now. Am I giving up a little? Giving in to age, fear, feeling worn out? Maybe a little. But maybe I'm just saying that I'm content with my own life. And that feels just fine to me.

Gotta keep laughing

2011-02-03T17:47:00.002-07:00

So I was lying on my couch with another headache today (7 out of the last 11 days or something like that) and a little giggle escaped my lips. Am I losing my mind or is my sense of humor at the absurdity of my own situation still intact? Hopefully the latter. ;-D

Despite the uncooperative state of my own head, I did actually get quite a bit accomplished this week, and that sure feels good. I'm thinking of buying one of those giant notepads (you know - the kind that people use on an easel at meetings) and keep a list each week of what I've done. Might be good for me to see that written down somewhere. In big letters.

And thank goodness, I've had enough leftovers and ready-made food (like canned chili) so I haven't had to cook much at all. One day that I actually felt good I made scones in the morning, so I've had a lovely snack some days. Tim's pretty much been fending for himself. Good man.

And, as usual, despite the discomfort and nagging pain of migraine after migraine, there have been lovely things, too. Snuggles with Egg, good time with two friends and my sister. Chinese take-out. Wonderful, cold days.

I certainly hope to feel better soon (and I'm sure I will). Meanwhile, I'll catch-up on movies, get some extra sleep, and watch Tim as he tip-toes around the house.

Miscellaneous

2011-01-31T07:50:00.003-07:00

Sometimes, early in the morning, I lie in bed and thoughts of Dad fill my mind, swirling around. I can't get back to sleep, it's too early to want to get up, but I do anyway just to escape my thoughts.

Did I spend enough time with him? Did he know how much I loved him? He died not knowing the amazing things God did while I was on my trip last spring. Why, of almost all my friends, am I left an orphan? I have so many years to live without either parent. I miss our breakfasts together.

Up days and down days. Clearly today is a down day. But I've got a lot to do to fill my hours - good, practical housework that will keep me occupied. And I'll sit and journal some, too, and try to get some of these feelings down on paper. Just when I think I'm not missing him as much, my heart is filled with tears.

Day by day I walk my life's path, picking the beautiful flowers all along the way, treading lightly through thorny patches, picking myself up when I fall. I'm glad I don't walk alone. Husband, family, friends, God. Today I'll surround myself with practical chores and the good feelings that come from completing those irritating tasks - done! I'll listen to beautiful music. I'll miss Dad.

Tomorrow is supposed to be bitterly cold, and I think I'll plan to work on some project, drink hot cider, and watch favorite movies. Two good days in a row to be a salve to my hurting heart.

"Oops"

2011-01-17T07:47:00.003-07:00

I'm sitting in bed catching up on e-mails. It seems I'm starting off an awful lot of them with apologies - for taking so long to reply, for not returning a phone call, for just forgetting.

Obviously, my brain isn't quite up to speed. I remember this from when Mom died. It seemed like it was about a year before I really felt like myself in terms of mental functioning. And back then I had a full time job. Man oh, was it a strain! I just had to try my very best. And sometimes that best wasn't very good.

What a state of grace I live in right now - to not have to be working full time, to have so many really fulfilling weekly commitments, for my life to be filled with so many great friends!

And there's more good news.

I'm beginning to really be able to enjoy stuff again. There isn't that layer of bittersweet about everything. Is it because the dreaded first Christmas is past? Is it just a function of time passing?

Whatever it is, I'm very grateful for it. I taught a cooking class this weekend, and it was pure joy. Tim and I had dinner with friends, then went to their house and played a game with them and their kids. Wonderful fun! I've got my spring schedule pretty much figured out and it feels really good. I'm even getting some long-overdue housework done, and it doesn't feel like an overwhelming, unachievable task!

All these things are adding up in the "good" column and adding to my joy. I still have hours, days even, where I miss Dad terribly, and the sum of everything that happened this past summer and fall feels overwhelming, but those are fewer and farther between than even a month ago. I have so much to be thankful for, and my heart is more and more able to focus on those things.

Is life returning to normal - whatever that means? It's beginning to, and it feels good.

Sarah

2011-01-13T14:51:00.003-07:00

I miss her.

I miss her laugh.

I miss her hugs.

I miss the way she plays with her hair.

I miss feeding her.

I miss listening to her voice.

I miss having her in my living room.

I miss seeing her out of the corner of my eye at church.

I miss her phone calls.

I miss making plans with her.

June is so far away.

Begin again

2011-01-01T09:55:00.002-07:00

A new year. And a beautiful new day, too! The sun is shining and the high will be somewhere around 20' F. I'm loving it, though. It means that the few inches of snow we got on Thursday will be lasting a couple days longer.

So a new year. I'm praying this year will bring some stability to our lives - a job for Tim, some income, good health.

But in that prayer are embedded words of trust and praise, because no matter what happens, no matter what this new year brings, I know that God will sustain me, carry me through, and work it all out. Evidence of that? This past year. It could have been tougher - even I will grant that. There could have been more difficult things that piled on. But through it all, every day, in every hour, I knew God was holding me close to his bosom, taking good care of me. I've emerged from last year with my trust in him affirmed and strengthened.

Yes, my heart continues to hurt - missing Dad, adjusting to life without him. That will take a while to heal. But in my place of sadness - my days when I seem to hourly leak tears, the times when my sadness translates into anger, when all I want is to crawl back into bed - God is with me.

A new year. A beautiful new day. My warm house. My cozy husband. Sunshine streaming into our windows. Kitty asleep on my bed. My heart at peace.

A good start.

Bittersweet

2010-12-25T08:24:00.003-07:00

His prickly chin and scruffy morning's laugh

bring Christmas to life,

animating the tree's lights with just his smile.

Torn paper and tangled ribbon

grow in piles of color

scattered by the cats.

We're foolish in our joy,

all together, happy here.

His robe is wrapped tightly, tied around the waist,

and just a hint of plaid flannel peeks

out from under the sleeves.

Father holds the key to Christmas and unlocks it with his love -

felt from a thousand miles away or from across the room.

The three wise men?

I have but one, and he holds me close

strong arms holding tight the bond.

Written Christmas morning, 2004

I awaken and it feels like Christmas, and I am amazed. An e-mail from my sister reminds me that I am well in my soul, in the places where the constants in my life live. I am well in body, thanks to the miracles of medicine. I am well in mind even when I am in this place of inconstancy. I am well in spirit because of my relationship with God. That will not change no matter what happens in life. Because I trust Him. That decision, for me, is made.

So good morning and Merry Christmas! A new day, a new reminder of my hope. I think I can find ways to miss Dad and be sad, but celebrate his memory too. So once again, I find myself in a place of gratitude.

A good place to be on Christmas morning.

Good night

2010-12-24T22:27:00.004-07:00

Candles flickering, carols in the air, surrounded by friends in the half-light of Christmas Eve. "I am in the bosom of my family," I thought tonight as I worshiped the Newborn King, the Savior King, the Risen King, warm tears running down my cheeks.

Tough hours. I'm missing Dad so much thinking of our many wonderful Christmases. Stories we would tell around our family table. Memories we shared.

But tonight was calm and peaceful. Tim and I enjoyed it in our own special way, and were able to spread some love to a good friend who was in need of it.

I am going to bed feeling so loved by so many. It is an incredible gift that I hope I will never take for granted. Christmas Eve after an incredibly difficult year. And the year is almost over. A relief, to say the least.

I go to bed sad, but at peace, warm down to my toes, filled with love and a kind of deep, abiding joy.

Back to the yoyo

2010-12-24T07:58:00.004-07:00

Was it just yesterday that I wrote I was feeling better than expected? That only lasted about 1/2 the day. I guess that's better than none, though. The afternoon and evening were pretty tough.

I won't detail the yucky stuff here. Suffice it to say I am not working to process my feelings. I need to do a little more of that and try to keep my sadness from turning to ugliness inside me - anger, irritability, etc. I also need to cut myself some slack and just get through this. Things will look a little better on the other side.

Not because anything will have fundamentally changed in me, but because the high expectations, the hoopla, and the demands of the holiday will be over. January will be quiet.

I am missing Dad terribly. Everywhere I go I see something that would make a perfect present for him, or I see parents and their children. Or I think of something I'd like to tell him.

And now having no parents makes me miss Mom again in a more poignant way. This parentlessness is a strange thing. Can't really explain it, but I feel unmoored, without an anchor, somehow floating.

So today I'm going to focus on doing the tasks that need done. Wrapping presents. Cooking for tomorrow. Making a few phone calls. I'll listen to music, watch a little TV, maybe journal some. Drink hot tea. A quiet day. Hopefully a restful day. Then tomorrow with my family. Sunday with Tim's family.

And I'll try to keep in the forefront of my mind why we're doing this, and how I can give back to those I love in ways other than their small gifts.

Better than I thought

2010-12-23T08:55:00.003-07:00

December 23. Whew! Just 3 more days and my holiday season is past. It will be a relief.

I must say, though, that I am feeling less outright pain than I thought would be the case. Instead of the constant throbbing it was after Mom died, this pain comes and goes. Granted, in heavy waves that toss my little boat, but at least it's intermittent.

This loss of Dad feels so very different than losing Mom did. My age, his age, the duration of his illness, the stability of my marriage. I suppose all those things have combined to make this seem just a little bit easier.

And I am surrounded by the most incredible friends. I can't emphasize this enough. Don't get me wrong. My family is wonderful and I value them incredibly. But having this many friends who deeply care about me, nurture me, look out for me, listen to me, help me laugh, allow me to talk - I cannot adequately express my heartfelt thankfulness for them. As I told someone recently, "They are like a hammock in which I lie."

So today I'll finish up odds and ends, then there's a mad rush for 3 days, then it all settles back down, like a cloud of dust on a dirt road after the roaring pickup truck drives by.

So thankful for the Gift that is the motivation for all this hoopla. So thankful that I can express my gratitude all year long. Thankful for many things...

Almost there

2010-12-19T21:04:00.002-07:00

Ladies' fondue Christmas party attended

Care package sent to my bro at Colorado State

Fudge and cookies made for friends and neighbors

Invitations to the church's interactive nativity handed out in the neighborhood

Shopping list made

Tree decorated

.......................................................................................

The trappings of Christmas surround me, and I find myself feeling just a tiny bit less sad then I thought I would. After all, I am surrounded by people who love me and are giving me unbelievable support. I am loved beyond words by my amazing husband. And the truth of Christmas, the reason for all this celebration is undiminished by losing Dad. That is wonderful and beautiful.

And all those things - the parties, shopping, baking, friends, the beautiful tree - they remind my heart of Dad's love.

I miss him. He loved Christmas. He gave all my Christmases a special touch.

But I can still find joy, and that in itself is a wonderful and beautiful thing.

Back home

2010-12-13T15:22:00.002-07:00

Where have I been? Is it already December 13th? I have nothing profoud to say, but I'll write a little update anyway...

My week in Breckenridge ended with a bang as the car I had borrowed pooped out on me. Long story short - it all worked out, I didn't end up stranded somewhere on a mountain pass, and a ride home materialized in an amazing way! Other than the car operating perfectly, it couldn't have been any smoother, really.

I arrived home and dove back into life...perhaps a little deeper than was wise. Last week was crazy busy, but I'm going to try to scale back a little more, and not just for the next couple weeks. I'm still carrying a heavy emotional burden, and until that lifts, I need to create and maintain a little more space for feeling, writing, thinking, crying, etc.

Christmas is fast approaching, and I just wish the whole thing could be ignored this year, but there's not much chance of that. So instead of digging as deep into a hole as I can, I'm going to try to focus on the many good and wonderful things in my life. That way, while facing life, even with the hard stuff in plain view, I'll also have a clear view of all the good.

After all, I continue to contend that I live a blessed life with innumerable amazing and wonderful gifts. I'll try to keep that my focus.

Glich

2010-12-02T16:07:00.003-07:00

I woke up this morning feeling much better -more myself. I was having a great morning when I suddenly felt like going home. The sky was blue and clear, tomorrow more snow is expected, and my inner old lady popped up and said, "Go home today and then you can just enjoy the drive instead of fighting snow." Sounded good to me! :-)

And I was surprised at myself. At the beginning of this retreat, I'd wondered if I'd ever want to go home. I guess one can get enough of solitude and reflection - wouldn't make a very good nun, huh? :-) I decided to pack up, have a leisurely lunch, then head on home.

I did, however, need to take my friend's car (which I borrowed for this trip) to a mechanic to get it topped up on coolant before heading back over the mountains. You see, a couple days ago I discovered a puddle of antifreeze under the car. Bad news.

I took the car to a mechanic who said they could fill me up before heading home. But there was worse news. The car has a cracked radiator.

Good news? I didn't discover this halfway over Hoosier Pass or in the middle of South Park. And, I still had one day on my condo, so I just checked back in. And I've already got a ride home from a friend who has been in Glenwood Springs visiting friends.

So, I got a few things out of the car (including pjs, dinner and breakfast stuff), the mechanic gave me a ride back to my condo, and here I am chilling for one more night.

I guess it wasn't time for me to go home, after all. And, actually, I'm thankful for one more night of solitude. The weird feeling is gone, my soul feels satisfied, and my weary heart is finally feeling rested after the crazy months since Dad came home and all that followed.

All good. (Except for my friend's car.)

Finishing up

2010-12-01T21:17:00.003-07:00

I feel weird. I think it might be spending 6 days alone. I am, after all, an extrovert.

It might also be because I thought this would be a really emotional week and it hasn't been.

And it could be that I have worked on the tasks I assigned myself for this week, but I don't actually feel any different. Was I supposed to? I'm not really sure what I expected, since I've never done this before. I've sure enjoyed the time, but did I get out of it all I could have? I'm just not sure.

Anyway, I'm wrapping up my second to last day, and just thought I'd throw all that out there.

I did take the most beautiful walk today. Little, tiny snow flakes fell all day and it was absolutely gorgeous. I couldn't even see the top of the slopes, and I can only imagine that it was a pretty slow day for the lift operators.

The Blue River runs right through Breckenridge, and there's a lovely path that follows it through town. I had just heated up my lunch when I looked out my window and saw that the tiny flakes had turned to fat, feathery ones. "I have to be out there!" I said to myself, threw on my snow boots, etc. and practically ran out the door.

As I walked along the river, enjoying the falling snow, I listed things for which I'm thankful...

my parents
dog prints in the snow
good food and fun restaurants
a warm coat...

It was a pretty long list. And it was a lovely walk. I think I'll do it again tomorrow.

So I'm off to bed, feeling this weirdness. Not sure what it's about, but I hope it just means it's time to go home.

Three days left

2010-11-30T08:38:00.004-07:00

I'm having a great week - incredibly relaxing and meaningful to my soul. I'm trying to stay focused on the tasks I've set for myself, but yesterday didn't do as much work as I'd planned. Just couldn't get there. I did some journaling about Dad and finished C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed. As with the first time I read it years ago - I took copious notes.

Today I'm going to hit the books again - journal and reading, that is. I'm going to go for a walk in the cold, sunshiney day. And I'm going to try to do some writing - not just journaling. We'll see how it goes.

I wrote last night in my journal that I had a suspicion I wasn't going to want to go home. So I asked myself "why?" I'm giving that some thought, and am going to try to get myself in a place where I want to go home on Friday - be in a place where I can enjoy what I have at home. Because what I have, the life I have, is a blessed one. And that's something I need to always remember.

Yes, this time alone has been remarkable and incredibly refreshing. But I can take these lessons of time reading, journaling, praying, and put them to good use at home too. It is just a matter of not boxing myself into a corner with busy-ness.

I can do that if I choose to.

Still life

2010-11-27T11:02:00.002-07:00

I didn't bring my camera with me ... too bad.

Because the wooden basket on the dining table is now filled with the most beautiful apples, mangoes, lemons and clementines.

Pretty to look at and deeply satisfying to my heart. Could it be because of Dad's love for fresh fruits and veg? That's probably it ...

I'm on a week-long personal retreat in the beautiful Colorado mountains. I've never done this before, but it is something I really need. I'm here to journal and think, pray, reflect, read, and have a little quiet time for my soul. Do some grieving for Dad - crying, remembering, writing, grieving about not being a mom - more crying and writing, work on some personal issues, and rest. Spend time with God. That actually is not only primary but essential.

This is something I really need, and am so looking forward to.

My groceries are bought, my books and journals are laid out, my iPod is ready to go. I have some of my favorite movies, a nice bottle of wine for the evenings, and my comfiest slippers and pjs.

What more could I need?

Will I get lonely? Maybe, but I doubt it. I do already miss Egg - thought about bringing him. So lonely in the bed without his fuzzy little body. But sunshine and God are here with me, and all the love and prayers of my friends and family who said to me, "Go! Do this for yourself!"

Still life on my table, still life in my heart in a week of quiet and reflection.

Thanksgiving Day

2010-11-25T08:31:00.003-07:00

My cat has a cold. An actual sniffles, sneezing, congestion, wheezing cold.

Or maybe its a sinus infection. I'm not sure which.

How many cats get colds? In all my years...

When he sneezes, yes, I wipe his nose with a tissue. I give him extra snuggling (not much of a burden), and I comfort him when he feels crummy. Too bad I can't give him hot tea to drink. :-)

Sometimes, when life seems extra hard, its the littlest things that bring us that extra touch of joy. My poor kittie has a cold, but his little face, his warm body, his purring (even with a stuffy nose) do that for me.

Today is Thanksgiving, and there is much for which I am thankful. Here's just a sampling...

my kittie, of course

being able to make a rockin' good pie (crust included)

beautiful yarn

hot tea in the mornings

my amazing husband

sisters with whom I have wonderful relationships

my God who sustains me and holds me in the cup of his hand

May your day be filled with family, love and delicious food!

The holidays begin

2010-11-24T08:21:00.005-07:00

We're slogging through the holidays over here. Thanksgiving with my family was accomplished yesterday with some pains. That's about the best I can say about it.

I'm leaving Friday for a week long personal retreat. I can't wait for these days alone in the mountains. I have some tough work to do on my insides, though, so it won't be all fun and games. I really need to process through some of my toughest issues - forgiveness, grief, resentment. I hope to do lots of reading, journaling, crying, praying. I hope to have hours and hours of quiet. And I'm thinking of taking my sewing machine and spending some hours making something pretty.

Today will be a quiet day. Tomorrow Thanksgiving with Tim's parents. Friday I leave.

And then December I'll try to control the whirlwind of holiday activities - practice saying "no" even though I'm not very good at it.

The best news? I've received the all-clear from my surgeon, a gyn and my primary physician. I'm good to go, with just a little bit of healing left to do. I'm getting my energy back, and that feels tremendous. So thankful to have come through all this with only one scar - granted, an 8" scar.

At the table yesterday some of said in quite voices what we were thankful for. Tim said, "I'm thankful for my wife who makes each day better than it would have been without her."

I said, "I'm thankful I don't have cancer."

Tough days ahead as I continue mourning Dad and work on some boundaries in my life that have needed some attention for quite some time. But I will work through it. And come through to a better place, a better me.

Now and forever more

2010-11-12T08:52:00.003-07:00

The song fills my house...

I will lift up mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help,

my help cometh from the Lord,

the Lord which made heaven and earth.

He said He would not suffer thy foot, thy foot to be moved;

the Lord which keepth thee - He will not slumber nor sleep.

Oh, the Lord is thy keeper, the Lord is thy shade

upon thy right hand.

No, the sun shall not smite Thee by day, nor the moon by night.

He shall preserve thy soul even forever more.

My help, all of my help, cometh from the Lord.

I miss Dad so much. I think a lot about those days in the hospital, the quiet hours passing, our conversations, the precious moments. I see Dad lying there in the dim light, knowing the truth of these words - that our Lord was right there. And now, still, He is right here with me.

I think about Dad's journey - the one he had to walk alone - and what must have been going on in his mind, and how often we spoke of God and His plan, the appointment of our days. I think about God being my keeper, my shade - right there beside me, beside Dad as we sat there hour after hour. The words of the song ring true - Lord is thy keeper, the Lord is thy shade

upon thy right hand.

How can I adequately express the truth that I have not been abandoned by God - to the contrary. The Almighty, the One, the I Am who held us close to his bosom through the dark hours, the saddest days, is still holding me, is still my shade, stands at my right hand ready to lend me aid.

And my father, my daddy, now sits by His side and he shall no longer feel the heat of the sun or the cold of the moon. His soul is preserved forever more. The help he called on is the God he now praises forever.

And that is the same God I love.

I lift up mine eyes unto the hills.

All of my help cometh from the Lord.

I lift up my eyes, overflowing with tears, and I am sad, thankful, in awe all at once.

All of my help cometh from the Lord.

Fall into winter

2010-11-09T16:52:00.006-07:00

When winter days come, and the sunshine is muffled by clouds, and socks stick to my wool sweaters as I fold laundry, I snuggle down into my life and breath a sigh of relief.

It is as if the hustle and bustle of summer is over. The extra hours of daylight, the extra hours of work in the garden have once more passed into snowy afternoons and evenings of firelight and board games.

Soup will simmer on the stove, my knitting basket will always be within reach, and we'll snuggle deeper into our blankets.

I breath a sigh of relief as I see the clouds coming over the mountains, darkening the day and hastening evening. My hands smell like dryer sheets, Egg sleeps contentedly on my coat thrown onto a dining room chair, and I can see Tim out in the garage, bundled in an old fleece jacket.

My favorite time of year.

And although this year, fall changing into winter brings with it more pain and more healing as we progress along the road of missing Dad and learning to live without his warmth, his smile, his presence in our lives, I can still choose to treasure each day, each leaf that crunches under my feet, each morning I awaken with Egg snuggled in my arms and Tim getting dressed in the cold bedroom.

"Pain is not bad." I've said it a hundred times. And it remains true. If I face my pain, if I allow the thoughts of missing and sadness to fill my eyes with tears, it brings with it healing. If I push it to the side, ignore it, and try to just "get on with it", I will suffer, as if dragging a growing boulder behind me.

So I'll face it, and I'll choose to be encouraged and uplifted as I see Earth turning and revolving through space, shifting her face away from the Sun and once again journeying to the colder side of our year.

Nasty business

2010-11-04T16:01:00.003-06:00

I've put it off for way too long, because I just couldn't face it. It seemed too painful, too complicated. Just too hard.

That dreaded stack of insurance statements and bills from our summer of hell.

Seems like it shouldn't be such a big deal - just a task, an accounting job. But it has somehow become tied up with all the emotions and struggles of the summer - losing Dad, the stress of getting sick right after his death, the physical trauma I've undergone, the stress of Tim being unable to work for almost 10 weeks, and on top of all that, the financial strain that has come along with all of this.

But the task, for today at least, is accomplished. Every bill that isn't being contested is paid. I have all my little piles organized. I'm just waiting on word from the insurance company on some details.

What a huge relief.

And I only cried once. And it does feel incredibly good to have it done (almost). And it didn't feel like going back under the knife or freshly burying Dad.

But it did somehow feel like I was doing a reckoning of the losses of the past 5 months. It did almost feel like I was counting the cost of missing Dad, of not spending the summer hiking or gardening, of not seeing the golden aspens this fall, or having the energy or strength to wrestle with my nephews.

Because I'm not very good at compartmentalizing. I'm not like a box of crayons where every piece of my life is clearly labeled and easily discerned one from the other. I'm like a crazy pointillist painting where the whole that you see from a distance is made up of many tiny pieces. I think we're all like that. And sometimes the colors blur, and sometimes this bleeds into that. Beautiful, complex, sometimes hard to understand, with all our emotions bleeding into each other, affecting how we feel from seemingly unrelated points of influence.

But that's one more step taken toward healing and a whole heart. One more step toward peace and away from worry and burden. One more step taken with my hand being securely held by my Father Above.

Big sigh.

Layers

2010-10-31T09:56:00.004-06:00

I measure out the flour, silky and white on my hands, leveling the cups with a shiny knife.

And the night's dreams, filled with screaming and anger, flicker through my mind like a movie. Glad to be awake and safe, warm in my kitchen; glad the dream isn't an accurate reflection of those relationships.

Next into the bowl are sprinkles of salt, a little sugar, some cinnamon. I mix it all together with my pastry blender, enjoying the tactile pleasure of working with flour.

I hear an actor's voice talking about his father, the years he's enjoyed with him, the pleasure of watching him through the phases of both their lives. And tears salt my flour as I wish for my father, gone from me, and I'm only 41. How I long for his voice, his affirmation, his love, his laugh. The twinkle in his eyes, the wrinkles around his smile, those rough hands that held mine with such tenderness and almost unbearable love.

The shortening is pure white and curls prettily under the spatula and into the measuring cup. I cut it into the flour mixture, working to make crumbs and readying it for the buttermilk. This is something I do know how to do - make a tender biscuit, a tender crust - with just enough salt to tingle on the tongue, and just enough fat to make it melt in your mouth. I cut it in without having to think, the movements of my hands effortless.

Music plays and tugs on my heart, drawing out more tears. Thoughts from the morning flicker across my mind's eye. Baseball season is over, but I'm already anxious to hear that sound of ball on bat and cheer for my boys. The nights are cold now, too cold to leave any windows open and I miss that fresh air on my face. And I'm unpacking my sweaters, so happy to see each one, old friends that hug me in warmth and softness winter after winter. And how glad I am to be well enough to be back in my kitchen, cooking, enjoying, creating.

I gently stir in the buttermilk, soured with just a little extra vinegar so my biscuits will have a tang to contrast with the jam and honey. The dough forms, purposely uneven, and I carefully incorporate the loose bits in the bowl, unwilling to get it all in there as too much effort will toughen my pastry. The lightly floured board waits and I hand-press the biscuits, cutting them with a knife.

They'll come out of the oven twice as high, hot, layered, and flaky.

This is my life. This is where I live. This is who I am. And today it feels good to feel, to let the tears fall, to cook what my heart wants on a chilly, fall morning, and to not push away memories. Not really enough words, or perhaps no adequate words, to describe where my mind is, where my emotions lie today as they are conflicted and convoluted.

Today I'll just be content knowing that both the comforting and the painful can rest in my heart, bed-fellows of my dreams and my days.

Bright lights

2010-10-29T20:14:00.005-06:00

I drive down the street through a modern-day Babylon. The brightly lit buildings lure me with their plush clothes, and even the broad street's twinkling river of lights seems a reflection of the river that flowed through the middle of that great city.

I am both thrilled and repelled by those lights, those temptations.

What makes this place a Babylon? The excess, the variety, the endless choice? Not necessarily bad things, but they do tend to draw my heart away from what is real, what is important, what gives my life meaning and significance.

I keep driving - home to Tim, home to a cuddly kitty, home to our simple life, filled with (yes, things I love), but also filled with relationships, tasks, and patterns that fill my heart and draw me into peace and joy.

This day

2010-10-28T11:10:00.005-06:00

Quiet house, music playing, the shush-shush of the dishwasher...

Golden autumn sunshine streaming in my windows, fresh laundry lying folded on the couch, and a fat kitty asleep on the bed...

A hot breakfast in my belly, the day begun in quiet and love, I suddenly feel ready to tackle the grief inside me. Finally after months and months of staggering, I feel strong enough to take care of my home and my heart. Perhaps it is the newly-given permission to take better care of myself. I feel released, somehow allowed now, to have a quiet fall, with lots of days for me to cook, pray, sew, journal, spend time alone, time with God, with friends, family.

My time is my own, and I choose to give this piece and that piece away. But it is right, it is healthy, it is good for me to save a quantity just for me, so that I will be able to give away what I choose with a glad heart and a healthy spirit.

Not new thoughts, but certainly newly reclaimed and taken into my heart and mind with an urgency and truthfulness.

Thanks, friends, for reminding me of these truths and walking this path with me. You are loved. I am loved.

Tender mercies

2010-10-20T16:13:00.004-06:00

Thank God for small mercies!

I went to visit Janice today, dreading walking down that hallway I paced for 7 days while Dad was there.

Would she be in the room at the end of the hall I disappeared into to make phone calls? Would it be the room where the friendly man laid? Would it be the room that had the most inviting sunlight in the early afternoons? Would it be at the end of the hallway where I felt God's presence in a way I never have before (my "butter-dipped roll" story that only a few of you know)?

I almost lost it in the elevator, fidgeting, trying to not lose it.

We walked out of the elevator and checked the sign for her room number. Wonder of wonders! She is on a different wing!

I didn't even have to walk down the same hallway! My heart leapt! My tears disappeared, and I felt a wave of relief that almost knocked me over.

God is good all the time - I assert that, believe that, cling to that. But sometimes that goodness takes me by surprise in how committed He is to kindness and loving care. Yes, He would have enabled me to do what I needed to...but He is gracious and made my job just that much easier.

I love Him. I am thankful. I am encouraged.

Pain

2010-10-19T11:27:00.004-06:00

Janice had knee surgery this morning. At the same hospital where Dad was. In the same building.

I didn't expect to be riding that elevator again quite so soon.

I couldn't stop the quickened breaths and fat, hot tears. The panic and welling pain in my deepest heart.

Will Janice be on the same floor? Will she possibly be in the same room?

I'm barely holding it together today.

Can I walk down that same hallway? Past that same nurses' station? To the same coffee machine that was my best friend for 5 days?

It feels unreal. Am I really here? Do I have to be here? And why am I here alone?

Not alone. God is with me. But my heart is breaking none the less.

Wonder

2010-10-17T20:12:00.003-06:00

My dear next door neighbor Jill got married today. An amazing and wonderful celebration! A fun afternoon and evening. A beautiful party. She looked so beautiful and happy. He looked overwhelmed and relieved - at least by the the reception. :-) They danced, they roamed the room, they enjoyed their friends, they drank lots of wine.

And we all joined them, participated in those wedding rituals. We stood in her honor as she walked down the aisle, radiant on this day just for her and Jack. We lifted our glasses in toasts to them and their future. We ate a lovely meal, and watched them cut the cake - hoping that their lives will reflect the prosperity symbolized by the celebration.

I am so happy for her, to see that her heart is filled with love for this man. She has had some hard years, and I want the absolute best for her. I want her to have as happy a marriage as I have. I want her to find bliss with her husband, and find that path that leads through all the hard stuff, but the path on which you walk hand in hand, figuring it out together.

Marriage isn't all daisies and butterflies. We all know that. But, oh my, what a wonder it can be! What a blanket of warmth and comfort, an afternoon of laughter and sunshine, a quiet evening of soup and fresh-baked cornbread.

I love weddings. I love hearing the recitation of vows and saying them quietly in my head. And sometimes, if I look over at Tim, I can see his lips moving.

Ain't love grand?

America

2010-10-16T14:05:00.001-06:00

My thoughts on arriving home from our road trip, written Oct. 10...

That ribbon of highway before and behind me, stretching, weaving its pattern on the map, criss-crossing our country. Sometimes straight and sometimes winding, paved in black and gray, even pink, made of concrete and asphalt. We zoom along, seeing things for just a moment, and then they're gone.

The White House, glimpsed through rush hour traffic.

Two deer, their eyes bright in the shine of our headlights as we drive through the Maryland night.

A fawn deep in the woods on Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia.

The winding road through those famed hills of West Virginia, that song rolling through my head, and the lyrics ring true as we make our own way home, wishing we were already there ...

The radio reminds me of my home far away And driving down the road I get the feeling that I should have been home yesterday, yesterday... Country roads, take me home to the place I belong...

Miles and miles of crops through Ohio, Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas, whether pan-flat or beautifully hilly, clouds of dust rising from the combines working. The bread basket of the world.

That little boy I saw in a convenience store, his father angry and harsh, for whom I've prayed every day since I saw his pain and felt fear for his future.

The sunrise behind me as we make our twisting way through Topeka.

The Golden Arches ... a perfect to-go cup of iced tea.

The steeples of distant churches all across Kansas, beautiful in the distance.

Beautiful and plain, touching and harsh, prosaic and extraordinary. Not just a drive - a winding journey home.

In the back

2010-10-14T20:20:00.004-06:00

I ate out today at a prosaic, run-of-the-mill Chinese buffet. Nothing exciting, nothing to blow your socks off.

Ironically, I was reading a book written by a chef. Seemed a strange dichotomy.

It did, however, make me think about all the people behind the scenes who make our lives easier, those unseen folks who do all the things we don't want to, who work unthanked, unappreciated.

Think of all the people in the kitchen of your favorite restaurant, chopping vegetables, making the same sauce day after day, browning pound after pound of onions. Thank you to them!

And on our trip we stayed in a couple hotels. I didn't give a thought to the maids who would change my sheets, vacuum those floors, bring in fresh towels, replace the shampoo and soap that I stashed in my suitcase. Thank you!

All those gas station attendants, convenience store workers, road construction crews, tire changers, fast food slaves, and National Park rangers who every day get out of bed in order to serve behind the scenes - anonymous, living from one paycheck to the next.

Tonight I say thank you, and I'll do so the next time I run into any of them.

Thank you!

Witness

2010-10-11T07:31:00.006-06:00

You are my witnesses. Isaiah 43:10

Those words inscribed on a wall of black granite - that's the first thing you see when you walk into the U.S. National Holocaust Memorial Museum. A humbling beginning.

We spent two full afternoons at the Holocaust Memorial. There is much to disturb the mind and heart within those walls, iconic photos and stories all around, Hitler's voice booming out, artifacts that shake you - a pile of thousands of shoes confiscated from prisoners arriving in Majdanek, a section of the train tracks that led into Treblinka. A thousand more.

Two things stood out to me - the row of tall, inward curving fence posts from Auschwitz itself, and the pile of square stones quarried from Mauthausen forced labor camp. The prisoners were known to say that each stone quarried there cost the life of one man. And there those stones lie - 193 stones, 193 lives. And those fence posts. How many lives were lost because of them? They were a dividing line between life and death.

On the ground floor of the Museum is a beautiful Hall of Remembrance. It is a solemn, simple space designed for reflection and memorial - a large, circular room lit only by a rose window in the high ceiling and tall, narrow windows, at the same time imposing and inviting. Directly across from the entrance is a rectangular altar of black stone inside in which lies dirt from 38 concentration camps and a cemetery in Europe where American soldiers are buried. The dirt was brought to America in urns and deposited inside the granite block by Jewish survivors of the Holocaust.

Above the altar a large candle burns, and this inscription from Deuteronomy 4:9 is inscribed into the stone wall:

"Only guard yourself and guard your soul carefully, lest you forget the things your eyes saw, and lest these things depart your heart all the days of your life. And you shall make them known to your children and to your children's children."

On either side of the room in small alcoves are banks of tiny candles. I lit a candle in memory of Tim's Uncle Eugene who fought in Germany, and almost gave his life in a POW camp; in memory of our family's trip to Dachau in Germany and the impact that had on my young life; and in memory of those who suffered and died at the hands of both evil and complacent men.

Evil and complacent men.

www.ushmm.org