Fathers Day

Woohoo. What a ride.  Fathers choice, we took the kids and Husband's sister down Brown's Canyon near Beuna Vista.  These class 3 rapids were quite the step up from the cold float trip on the Colorado last year.  I have rated this stretch of the Arkansas River about a half a dozen times at different river levels.  Peaking two days ago, this was a blast.  Husband ran these rapids as a guide when he was a young pup just settling into Colorado about twenty years ago.  He remarked on how the rock formations he knew had changed over the years.  Our guide and the one in the other rafts was definitely full of tall tales.  The kids believed every word, even the story that the Sevens rapids series was created when there was a double decker train track running through and it toppled in the water creating a stairs step of rapids.  Tall tale or not, these were my favorite.  The kids liked Zum Flum pictured above.  It was also good to have Husbands Sister along for the ride. 

     

Test 7.75

Lately, life has been a series of signs.  When I look up at a digital clock, it is 11:11, 5:55 or 3:33.  In one day, I run across blogs on the same topic as a friend just chatted with me about.  And, I met a stranger in the elevator who was going down, but went up when I called the elevator from the fifth floor.  Then down, and back up when I noticed I forgot my latte on the fifth floor. then down to the second floor where I departed.  We chuckled at the weirdness of the elevator farce and pondered the meaning of its occurrence.  Well, we made each other laugh, we agreed.

    I have yet to determine the breadth and purpose for all the poking to get a clue, listen harder, observe more.  What I do know is I am being tested by some little beings in my life.  Yes, my free-range chicks are nestled in their beds and look like angels.  Okay, well, actually, they talked me into allowing a slumber party of two on the trundles.  It is only ironic they chose to sleep in the same room and giggle themselves asleep when they were fighting and hitting each other all afternoon.

     Earlier today, they went out riding their bikes around.  They came back.  Then out again.  Then returned. And then, packing water bottles they announced they tried friend A and friend B who were busy so they were trying friend C.  Okay, call me when you there.  I change out the washing machine and drier, wipe up lunch, look outside, move things from point A to point B....I am getting a little nervous.  Seems like they should have called by now or returned if friend C wasn't home.  Ring, the call.  Phew.  

      Letting go of your children as they seek independence is bittersweet.  I was glad to see them go so bravely, glad for the silence, the cease fire, and worried whether they would know what to do if a stranger put them in danger all at the same time.  Did I teach them enough?   Were they listening?  My chicks returned home right before dinner so proud of themselves for stretching the apron strings.

     Later, the real test started.  I am not sure exactly why I take the brunt of all intense feelings Son has, I don't even know why he was so mad today.  I think it had something to do with me not making what he wanted for dinner.  (I am not dumb.  I know there is way more to the story then that.). He comes into the kitchen were I am singing and making dinner.  "I am running away. You are the worst mom ever.  No one loves me here."

     "Okay, it is getting dark, you might want to grab a jacket.  Where do you think you might go?  The park has bathrooms and a pond.  You might want to grab a fishing pole.  Love you."

     He stomps towards the door grabbing his hoodie off the rack.   Sister looks at me bemused.  "Just go with it," I whisper.  "Start giving him stuff to bring."

   She smiles, grabs a backpack that had water bottles.  "Here you might want some water.  Oh, and some snacks."  She keeps bringing him things, a Smurf figure dressed like a clown, his favorite near, a jacket, who knows what else.  Each time he trudged towards the exit, she'd say, "uh, you forgot this."

    Well, sure enough he packed it all in his pack and headed off.  I watched for him to pass the back window.  He didn't..  I started getting a sick feeling in my tummy.  What if he gets hit by a car?  What if he gets nabbed by a bad guy.  What ii he doesn't come home?   I turn to the stove top, a good place to hide your face once your eyes begin to well up with tears.  

     Daughter pats me on the back and asks if I am crying.  I tell her about my what-ifs.  I tell her that I try so hard to love him and show him, but I still don't know why he acts like this.  She tells me some very wise words.  She tells me he is still hurt from when I left for ten days last fall for the surgery. She says he is mad about the cancer.  And, that he was so little when it started he doesn't remember me without it.  Then she consoles that he probably went to the "hill."  I text my friends who live over there to tell me if they see him.   Sister pops out to check on Brother.  He has come back.  I am relieved and still crying gator tears in the spaghetti sauce.  Wasn't there a movie about a woman crying her emotions in soup or something?  

    I feel a little arm reach around the middle of my legs as I am getting broccoli out of the fridge.  I turn, he just looks at my puffy, tear full eyes and gives me a hug.  No words.  He runs back outside.  I guess I passed the test.  I am just not sure who is the grader.

    My children are pushing my limits this summer.  Some are so frustrating I want to spearmint.  Other times make me so proud.   We are working on cutting the apron strings.  I would just like to ask one thing.  can I have apron strings made of bungee cord?  I send them out in the big bad world, knowing they will pop right back.

The Summer Secret

We started a gratitude jar.  Wait let me back up.  We fed the homeless.  Wait, need to back up some more.  I saw the Secret.  Wait, further.  Okay, let's begin with the start of summer break.  As a stay-at-home mom, summer break is like a weekend that won't end.  For two weeks, I have managed to fit in housecleaning, grocery shopping, organizing, weeding, mending, meal making, meal cleaning up, teaching, and a number of other tasks in pockets of time between the pool and  "Mommy, I am bored."  I went into summer naively thinking that this was the summer my angels would learn to do chores without grumbles and reminders.  Well, it turns out my little ones are more like free-range chicken then those in a nesting box.

      Much emotion has erupted in their lives as they transition from the world of structure, friends, fun and, hopefully, interesting new things to be learned.  The catalyst, as in most households, seems to be Mom.  Yes, dear Mom won't let me eat dessert every night.  Dear ol' Mom makes me go to bed when the neighbors are still playing outside.  Dear Mom changed the plans.  It's her fault we can't go to the pool. (Um, yes, it is my fault for driving over something and getting a flat tire, please forgive me.). 

       Though I try to steer the energy of our troop towards the positive, it seemed to be cycling down the tubes.  Where did I screw up?  Why are they so unhappy?  Why is it my fault for every frustration?  And, dang it, why don't they help with the dishes while whistling a little tune like Snow White?  Road block after road block as I desperately try to make our time positive.

        Then it dawns on me.  I am trying.  That is the problem.  Okay, so it didn't come to my in a lightening strike of epiphany.  No, there were the subtle messages, road blocks.  Sometimes, it takes quite a few.  And, if you still aren't getting it, then you might get the privilege of getting hit in the head

        Last night, I turned on my TV.  We now have some sort of gizmo were you have to search for shows.  I haven't quite figured it out and morn the days of just watching whatever was given to me to watch at that moment in time.  Now, I have to make a decision.  But, not last night.  I turned it on and The Secret, the movie, was there.  Just there in the front of the line of suggested shows.  Ding.  Ding.  Watch me tonight.  Get a clue.

        I have read the book, and several others around the same concept, in the past.  The idea is basically around the Law of Attraction.  The movie rotated through a variety of modern thinkers speaking about the history of the concept, the reasoning, and how to put it to practice.  Yes, I know this.  Negative thoughts attracts negative energy.  Positive begets positive.  What you put out is what you receive.

       So, today, I minded my peas and Q's.  Or, was it carrots and my two J's?  I would try to catch myself when we were going down a negative path.  Flip it.  I'd try to flip it to positive.  This is not any easy task.  Baby steps.  One elbow blow at a time.  My wonderful, intelligent, creative beings in my charge, you are so awesome and helpful.  (Play it on repeat)

      There is a lot of work to be done.  But, we will get there.  Tonight, after swimming, I missed our turn.  I pulled into the grocery store parking lot to cut through to the back road and back up onto the road I had missed towards our home.  The kids were tired and grumbling.  In front of us, on the corner, was a family of five.  They had a cardboard sign.  I couldn't read it.  Two girls about my kiddos age, a mom, a dad, and a baby girl.  I pulled past them and suddenly thought, "We need to make them dinner."  After consulting the tired chicks in my backseat, we decided exactly what we would bring them.  We flew in the house, collected our items, made sandwiches, all things that didn't need refrigerating, and loaded in the car.  No arguments.  No tears. Very little talking.  Just doing.

      At the parking lot, we parked and got out.  Daughter takes the sack of food, Son follows, and I say, "Here is some dinner."  The family beams.  Without looking what we had given them, the father says thank you.  I choke on my tears.  There was just this weird and awesome feeling inside all of us.  I can't explain it.  I have given change to other folks sitting on the corner with a cardboard sign.  But, this time was different.

     Driving away, Daughter bemuses, "I put a piece of paper and a colored pencil in there because I thought the girls would like that." We came home.  While I was cooking dinner, our neighbor mowed the remainder of our lawn. I had tried to mow for Husband while he was away on business.  I was only able to make a Mohawk in the middle as I made two passes around the edge before the thing ceased and would not start up again.  ( actually, should I admit I had the young man across the street get it started in the first place.  Ergo, I was too embarrassed to go ask for help again so I quit.)

      The kids were so excited.  "We gave the family food tonight and our neighbor mowed our lawn.  See it works.  You get what you give."  And, no, I had not talked to them about the Secret, they came up with that on their own.  Or maybe it is from years of listening to messages.

      Tonight, before I sent them to Lalalamd, I showed them the gratitude jar.  Anytime they want, and at least every night before bed, they are to write one thing that makes them feel good.  Neither of them hesitated a second before scribbling out a thought, folding the paper and placing it in the jar.  I couldn't resist, after writing mine, I peaked at theirs.  Both said they were thankful they could give the dinner to the family.

       So we move into summer learning a new way of living.  How do you teach your young ones to become great adults?  A concrete anthology is yet to be written.  For me, I will continue my journey of acceptance.  I accept my children use me and each other as personal emotional punching bags because in us, they are safe. My children are wonderful beings.  And, I will attract their positive energy with mine.  I will have strength and endurance to live freely and mindfully while modeling my knowledge in practice for my free-range chicks who are always watching. The chores will get done joyfully.

PS. The first step of the Law of Attraction is to change your sentences to what you want to happen, to the positive.  I will live well to my eights.  Yep.

Da Plane, Da Plane

Okay folks, I know you want the whole story, so let me be brief and you can read the full version in my book that will be published...um...like a year after I start it.  so Scott and I were to return to Denver at 6 am Sunday morning.  we all got on the plane and heard there might be a small delay as the techs look at an issue on the wing.  A bird flew into the wing during Sunday morning in bound from Denver to CR.  Later, when de boarded, I saw the dent.  Though we were all hopefully the first hour and after being un boarded and fed lunch, they determined not safe to fly.  I am okay with that.  So they were going to try to get us on American, but it is booked.  We are talking 150 passengers.  They only fly one plane down on Saturday nights.  So they flew in a new plane Sunday.  Mean while, after arriving at 3:30 am, waiting for news, and being served two meals (one really gross) we were sent to claim our bags, stuff ourselves in shuttle vans, and go to the Best Western with a voucher at Denny's. Oh yum.  thankfully I have such an awesome husband who is good at handling these situations and we got on the first bus, first group to get rooms, and went ahead to eat dinner on the early bird side of things before 18 hungry teens and at least a dozen young, tired children flooded the place.  Went to bed early! Watched Jack Reacher on computer and set the alarm for 3am, again.  3:30, first in line of 150, new flight number, same time, same flight plan, same crew, same passengers and same captain.  That is when the de ja vu started.  The captain was so cool.  There was an issue with the passes of ten teen volunteers.  Apparently, they were at the end of the line and got checked in after the country standard time period of two hours prior by a few minutes.  I am guessing this was the fault of the check in staff, as they weren't ready when we got there to check back in.  So anyway, immigration wanted to pull the teens off the plane without their adult chaperone, rebook them, and so on.  Which would mean we all would have to get off the plane, claim baggage, recheck in a third time, and so on so the kids could get their bags.  Never mind they would be unattended minors in a foreign country.  The pilot said no one was getting off his plane, especially those teens.  They had the authorities come down to the airport, he did whatever diplomacy he had to do, two more hours. We were taken off the airplane, but allowed to leave all our stuff as we ALL getting back on that plane and going home. i think this was about nine.  We had a little yoga with the yogis returning from
retreat, the kids played freeze tag and the teens, well, not sure what they were up to exactly.  We were fed another meal.  Just as Scott and I got in line for a sack of whatever they could find upstairs on the
terminal cafes, we got on the busses to the mew plane with a wolf on its tail.  We left San Jose, Costa Rica. We did land in Denver about five so happy to see the kids when we got up to Longmont.  I don't know if things could have gone smoother on the part of Frontier.  I know there were several agitated folks.  But, in the end, I think we all understood that they were doing what they could.  Sure they could have communicated there was no hope of using the first plane sooner.  AndI am pretty sure most of the food gave people stomach aches.  However, I do know the flight attendance were awesome, we did get two vouchers, three meals, movies on the plane, chips, snack bars, all the drinks we wanted, and a bit of humor in part of the pilot.  Sure wish I remembered his name.  Oh, and the folks of flight 87, I mean 2087, no make that 987, was it 2088 in the end? Yes, so the passengers I spent 30 some odd hours with we're great.  Through all the grumbling, there was always laughter.  I met some very interesting people from all over Colorado. Also, l "like" the fan page of the farm of the Tica, what Costa Ricans call themselves, sitting next to me of Facebook.  Oh, and who else,
besides the twenty or so men, women, and children who joined us, can say they did a flash mob yoga with total strangers they just spent two days with in an international airport waiting room offering our practice to our flight home.  A prayer that was answered just thirty minutes after savasanna.      Namaste.

The moral of this story is things happen, find a silver lining, do unexpected yoga in public (dancing also works), and drink your lemonade.  Breath.  Oh, yah, and Sara can't make it short.  (Shrug)

I promise to write about the good stuff of  our trip with you later.  Wait until you see the hummingbird pictures!

Ticktok

A sister survivor died yesterday.  Her mets were to her chest.  It all happened pretty quickly over a month.  Her family was ready.  They were prepared and slightly relieved her time in hospice was short without a long period of pain.

It is no wonder that this news is hard for me to  deal with.  It is comforting to hear the words of her daughter, my former high school art student.  It is comforting to know that when I go, it will be like that.  Lots and lots of love.

I know ypu think about it.  You ask all the time.  Maybe it is not directly, but you do.  And, I.  I don't have the words.  Dying.  How do you deal. With dying?  It is what it is and no more.  What hurts the worst is when a newscaster announces "so and so" is dying of stage four cancer.  Yep, it hurts. I must have been dying for four years.  I never think of myself as dying though I know I will not be around as long as I want to be.  So when it is claimed someone is dying, I just want to yell...BUT NOT TODAY!

There are times I think, jeesh, this is it.  I feel like crud.  I think I must have a met in my lungs, what is this lump in my throat, oh man, my head hurts, crap, my words are slurring, I just don't feel good.  Is this it?  I acknowledge and try to forget.  Too much living and giving to be had.

It is the spring time sh*t storm.  Husbands are leaving, mothers are dying, neighbors are trying to learn to be long time skin cancer survivors with little to no support, children are sick, and others are being uprooted from their small places of adopted comforted in a foreign country to settle in a new missionary location with their young children.  There are challenges crawling all over the walls.  And how do we deal with our mixed feelings?  That is exactly the answer deal with them.  Acknowledge it as it is what it is.  Make no judgement.  And let it go.  Never say it is out of your control.  Because it isn't.  Never say it is in your control, as it isn't.  It just is.  You can't change what happened nor people. So focus your energy on what makes you rock the world and allow.  Allow the ocean of grace to wash back to you.

My analogy/meditation story is as follows.  Take the challenge, see it, study it, understand it or not, for just a few moments.  Know it is there and change will happen though you don't know what it will be.  Find excitement in the mystery.  Then ball it all up.  Literally.  Take your hands, pack it in a ball like foil, create heat, and place it into a duffle bag.  Then throw it out to sea.  Make it a good through. Say good bye while knowing it will come back to you.  When it does, un zip the bag and look inside. You never know what you will find.  The future is a mystery. As you stand on the beach looking at the sunrise or set, your choice,  decide one thing, just one, positive incredible, amazing, tiny thing you can add to the world.  Push it into the sea.  And let it be.

Tomorrow, hold the door open for everyone who walks with you through all the doors you pass.  Evy single one.  There are a lot.


Hugs and love.  Sara

PS Kate, I think your mom was with me today during therapy.  She was cold.  She took some of my energy to give to you.  Hope you felt it.

Now Alive

My son, now seven, and I where sitting in the hall clipping his toe nails.  I was explaining how the middle toenail has wrapped around the tip of his toe and he had to careful to cut it off before it became and ingrown nail.  I showed him how to clip his own nails be careful not to clip to short.  I added a simple detail that we were clipping them on Sunday evening in the hall because I was about to vacuum.  You know, teaching him some easy housekeeping tips while we are at it.  If you do that, you remember to once a week and don't have nails all over the house, easy.

He looked up at me with those deep chocolate puppy eyes.  "Why are you telling me all this."

I might not always be around to help you care for yourself.  It is my job to teach you these things.

"Why do I have to learn it now?"

You are old enough to do these things and I may not be here sooner then we'd like.  My time here with you is coming to an end faster then we like.  And, I may not be able to teach you these things next year.

"So, don't you have to get all old and grey first?"

Yes, that is what is supposed to happen but my body got sick.  I have cancer, you know we have talked about this.  It keeps trying to take me away from you.  We don't know when this will happen so I want to teach you all I know now.

Son touches my hair, sits up, really inspects it.  "May that is why your hair turned grey this time.  It,,Mom, I think it looks a little brownish underneath.  Maybe it will come in brown soon then you won't be old."

On the day someone tells you that options are running out, it could be a year, or next month, you are left with a huge whole in your sole.  I know, because I have done it three times.  I have sat across my oncologist as he nervously shifts in on his stool trying not to look down at the floor and says, "Sara, I have to be honest with you.  There are so many people right now on your side fighting this.  But, we maybe getting towards the end of what we can do."  I suppose it makes it harder when you have become good friends.  I just wanted to ask how his vacation went and change the subject.  But, this time, there is a reality that lay heavy in the room like never before.

The cloud left with when my mom and exited the exam room.  I went to the bathroom to collect myself.  I decided to shake it off for the day.  What else is there to do?  I wasn't dead today.  I am not dying tomorrow.  The thing I wanted to do most was laugh.  So I trot down to the nurses in the infusion room smiling.  Of course, they are no idiots knowing this office visit was not a planned one. It was my regular routine to come in between infusions that occur every three weeks.  One of the nurses hugs me and asks, "So what does he say?"

I explain a few details using code as to now upset other patients.  They hug me and rock me a minute.  I stifle the tears the best I can.  After gaining my composure, I ask them if they seen the article yet.  I rush around looking for the Cure Today.  They are excited.  I was interviewed about exercising during treatment and recovery after treatment.  The interview was two months ago, about six months after full brain radiation and my third treatment for my bitch cancer.  The last quote says:

A little more than six months after whole-brain radiation, Brown is back to running. “Cancer tried to take away my physical body three times, but I kicked it in the behind and kept moving,” she says.

The evening after the appointment was hard.  I felt torn between crawling in a little ball and giving up, start throwing away everything I owned I didn't want people to have to deal with when I am gone, and buying a ticket for the south of France.  What I really wanted to do was just make dinner.  I petted my stinky kid's hair, kissed it, sniffled, choked back my tears and showed Daughter how to use dice to figure out her multiplication tables.  Son busled around me while I was in the kitchen having notyet learned how to self-entertain himself.  He's frustrated about something.  He may explode here in a minute.  Oh, he doesn't like the food I am making.  Okay, then don't it it, your choice.  This is my life.

Husband comes home all pimped in a suit.  Four days in a new corporate job.  Huge life change.  My heart sinks.  He knows what is going gist of the situation, not the details.  I will tell him later.  Actually, I will have my mom just e-mail the notes.  She is good at that.  Right now, this moment it is dinner time.  we laugh, whine, complain about the food, laugh some more, review spelling, and share our days.  Well, not all of my day other then I started a painting.

We, six doctors, my parents, my husband, my sister and her husband, my brother-in-law who is nurse to one of the doctors, everyone, are sorting it all out.  Some tests need to be done this week to see if my body is clear of disease; if this is the only site of issue.  Then we move forward.  The area in my brain that was originally cyber-knife radiated and then whole brain radiated last year is swelling.  It sits like an ice cream on top of a cone on my brain stem.  So you can imagine this could cause some more issues.  one option, of course, is to do nothing as it is in such a sensitive area. we can maintain it, but it will continue to do its thing.  It maybe a course of a year as my body slowly stops functioning properly.  I already feel a bit weak at times and loose my balance so I can imagine this would be a horrific fate. 

So the hope is this is the only area of disease and the specialists will carve a whole in my brain and dig it out.  Sounds. perfect, right?  Just get it out whether it is malignant or just dead brain cells.  Remember the area of concern is on my brain stem.  I could very likely not come home.  That is heavy.  Even if I survived the surgery, how would I be changed?  Would I ever paint again.

So yes, what do you do when you are taking all this in and waiting to know when you are going to die, you just live.  Friday, the day after the appointment, I went for a short run, ran errands, picked up the house, and painted most of the afternoon as the kids were at school.  I kept looking at the clock to make sure I didn't get too involved and forget the kids like usual.  But, the clock had slowed down.  time slowed down.  Paint, yoga, clean the house, make dinner, read books, cuddle.  What do you do on the day you realize you may not be here next year or even Christmas?  Well, you live.

Loving Life

I capital L, capital O, capitol V, capitol E, LOVE where I live.  A sweet September day sat at my feet this morning as I roused the kiddos. It is a bit chilly, grab a sweater.  Take off sweater as the temp climbs from 44 to 67.  Look, kids, it is nearly seventy.  The wind is gentle.  They scoot and I walk.  Running now as they ramble on ahead.  Sun.  Happy morning.  School.  Bell rings.  Scoot. Scoot scoot.  Kiss in hand for youngest Chester (if you have kids, you know the book reference here.). Dash off across lawn to eldest to remind her of her homework folder she has forgotten for two days.  She pretends to not hear then spins around, "I've got it Mom.". A bit sassy, don't you think?  Skulks over for a hug.  A quick chat with the Playground Moms and it is off for a run.  New path west of the school.  Running towards the Peaks.  She is majestic, Long's Peak.  She is mother.  Her children play under her ultramarine skirt.  They shimmer in spots of gold.  The aspens.  The air is thick.  A fire in Wyomning.  Geese overhead.  They smell it too.  It is coming early this year.  My bones know.  New path and new tunes in my ears.  Round the loop.  Not long enough.  Loop around, have to walk a bit.  Neck hurting.  I fell off my bike three days ago; face plant, minimal damage, slight whip lash, purple shins. I am alright, just walk now,take earbuds out.  Grasshopers, they are everywhere.  The sound.  The sound smells of autumn.  Sweet...oh, one crashed into my leg.  Ouch that sort of stung.  Bunny, red wing black bird, hear a chickadee, squirrel, he's mad, wave hi to kid in stroller, junior high PE class learning flag football, teacher yelling, tiny girl day dreaming off on the side praying the teacher won't call her in, that was me.  Old path.  Mud swallows.  Grasshoppers everywhere.  Around towards home.  Breeze at back, trees in site.  Leaves changing. Home.
      As I sit on the porch, drinking water, planning my day, I hear the children play.  They are in the school yard not so far away.  Screams of utter joy.  Tag, you are it, I imagine.  Yes, today, I will work on my porch under the shade of the purple ash.  Dim.  The clouds roll in.  Bright, they roll out. Geese.  More geese.  An airplane.  High, it is slowing, jumpers at the airport.  The wind picks up; I'm chilled.  Yes, it is coming.  From the north, I think.
    Before long, too short of a moment, I will trot out to get the kids.  A half mile at most.  We will all go there.  Some on bikes.  Some on feet.  Three with strollers, two waiting for their preschooler, and
one on her son's scooter.  We will fly like the geese to gather our goslings.  Home.  But, not without a chat.  Did you understand yesterday's homework?  How are you feeling today?  Will you help me out on Thursday?  Coffee Friday?   Yah, sounds good.  Great.  See ya.  Okay okay.  I am coming.  Go on ahead, I need another moment.  More geese.  A plane.  Flying high.  Slowing.  Jumpers.  One, two, six.  Hot now.  Breeze picks up.  They promised an Alaskan front.  I can smell it.  Was that a rain drop?  Oh, the change.  Breath it in.  Exhale until empty.  Fill up with loving life.