valentine

Here’s the one Valentine decoration that’s up this year. For a gal who loves hearts, I’m reminded with today’s mail delivery that sometimes we only need one—to give, to receive, to see.

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My Sweet Aunt Dale made this & sent it my way. As penned ten years ago about her, one might think she’s a ‘have not’ given her mental age stunted from a loss of oxygen at birth. Really, though, she’s a HAVEs given her capacity to love, to see, to feel, to breathe into so many lives what matters.

Her less being more is our heart swelling gain.

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levees, lymphoma, and love

“Ring the bells that still can ring. 
Forget your perfect offering. 
There is a crack in everything. 
That’s how the light gets in. ”

— Anthem :: Leonard Cohen

Led Zepplin’s been serenading me about When the Levee Breaks for a while now. And then it happened yesterday morning—the dam that’s been holding strong between forces shook a good bit. 

In the last few days, and month for that matter, I’ve heard people speak of the wait regarding results from a test or biopsy. That makes a hella lotta sense to me. Maybe because every week of January was such a dance in the unknown. …and then still not known. 

I mean, how could I not add this purchase to my Hamilton intermission during our Chicago family tour last month? I was waiting in a line 20+ deep to hit the loo, and I had to laugh at the on point capture of what our family was doing—just waiting for it—during our family Christmas gift of a weekend with one another. We were putting on hold what would be coming no matter while we basked in a city and songs loved. 

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When the doctor came by post surgery last Friday to tell me that the initial sample was positive for lymphoma, I gave him a thumbs up. I’m wondering if that was a first for him. I know it was for me. But it was a “thank you, thank you, thank you” moment of prayers answered, a moment of finally having an answer to things after a month of procedures. While we’d still have to wait on the Hodgkins confirmation at that point, we at least could confirm cancer. 

“And here we go,” as one of my rally gals offered at one point. 

Yesterday, though, was my George Bailey morning to sit with the other in all of this—the immeasurable love, support, and kindness from so many. 

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It’s a Wonderful Life is one of my all time favorite movies. I remember one Christmas at my cousins’ house when the volume was down on the television set, and still my sisters and I could recite each and every line. “Buffalo gals wontcha come out tonight, come out tonight…!”

One might watch that movie with a great knowing of such desperation, of longing to aid another, of wondering what it must feel like near the end of Clarence’s guiding tour when that flood of faces pours through the door bearing not only what George needs, but what they want to share—their love for him. Me thinks a Coscto trip for kleenex will be in order before I watch that scene next season given how yesterday morning went.

I read through cards, I opened care packages, I caught up on emails… each opening, another tear or twenty falling. It was utterly overwhelming. You think you want such a knowing in life, but what can bring it is rarely a tour desired. 

As I took to bed last night with prayers and text connects with some besties, it dawned on me that yesterday was February 2nd—a month since that first “Hmmmm…. let’s take a closer look, let’s get you down the hall for a scan.” No wonder I felt a surrender to all that’s built up these last four weeks. 

As another mug that keeps me company reminds: “Trust the process.”

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That’s been easier said than done at times with procedure after procedure, which is why my emotional resolve had to double down and steel itself so that I could show up for yet another biopsy, so I could be a steady Momma for my two loves, so that I could soldier on alongside my knight of a husband who’s been so strong. I knew the tears would come when it was time, when I could tuck into the comforts of home and of sentiments received. All part of the process, indeed. 

As posted today on a another thread: 

“. . . For there is a force of LOVE moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.”

— Saint Julian of Norwich

That force has sustained me throughout this past month, and I know that LOVE force will continue to buoy throughout the days, weeks, and months ahead. 

We got this, alright.
Let’s go lasso the moon. 

angels

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ANGELS

“You might see an angel anytime

and anywhere. Of course you have

to open your eyes to a kind of

second level, but it’s not really

hard. The whole business of

what’s reality and what isn’t has

never been solved and probably

never will be. So I don’t care to

be too definite about anything.

I have a lot of edges called Perhaps

and almost nothing you can call

Certainty. For myself, but not

for other people. That’s a place

you just can’t get into, not

entirely anyway, other people’s

heads.

I’ll just leave you with this.

I don’t care how many angels can

dance on the head of a pin. It’s

enough to know that for some people

they exist, and that they dance.”

—Mary Oliver

strength and shield

This practice is one my Dad gifted to his girls. Someone needing an extra prayer? Math test day? Super grateful for whatever felt answered? Light it up, lift it up!

There’s something, too, in the handing off, I think. A ‘here, let me hold this for a while so you can go do and be. Don’t worry, it’s not forgotten—it just needs to simmer & shimmer for a bit.’

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Today is Saint Francis de Sales feast day. I really like a lot of what he has to say, especially this one that’s always proven to be a solid go to. ...like my Dad. ...like candles. ...like prayer.

“Do not look forward

to what may happen tomorrow.

The same Eternal Father who cares for you today

will take good care of you tomorrow

and

every day

of your life.

Either he will shield you from suffering or He will give you the unfailing strength to bear it.

Be at peace then and put aside all useless thoughts,

vain dreads,

and anxious imaginations.”

—Saint Francis de Sales

coach K

On our road trip to a city loved, the boy child watched “Earn Everything” on ESPN about Duke’s basketball program. As I stopped to snap a shot of something this weekend he said, “I’m gonna start calling you Coach K, Mom.”
“What do you mean?”
“He likes pictures—they remind him of favorite moments.”

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Curious, I just watched the first episode to hear Krzyzewski say, “I like things around me, especially pictures. I’m a big picture guy... pictures remind me of experiences.”

“C’mon, Krzyzewski,” he hollered as I stopped for this sun puddle today. Still, though, he always waits for me to catch up after I snap what I see for keeping.

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As @erob77 so beautifully posted the other day, “When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.” —G.K. Chesterton

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