Tag: #hopeful

What the cluck?

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This is Noodle chicken. Pepper is behind her and Daisy is in the back. They are part of the flock of nine hens at our farm. Noodle is wondering why I’m taking pictures of her. Pepper is trying to grow her feathers back. Daisy is annoyed there aren’t more treats. Chickens are funny. They can’t smile but they have a bunch of different cluck noises and expressions. So far, it seems there is a cluck noise when they lay eggs (called the “egg song”), a different cluck when there is danger, a cluck indicating something exciting (like a frog), a cluck when there are treats, a cluck when they see me, a cluck when they are determining “pecking order,” a cluck in the morning and a different one at night. Chicken personalities… who would have thought?

This is Sesame chicken. She is wondering why Noodle was chosen for the first picture. She is usually the last one in the coop at night. She can be kind of sassy and she loves bean plants.

The chickens are pets. I could tell you a story or something specific about each one… even the new ones. They are as unique as you and I.

So why a “fluff piece” on a Tuesday? These ladies were the back drop to my interview for the Wise Wild Woman conference next week. It’s a free virtual conference with several of the authors from our book along with other amazing women. Of course I talk about my chickens a little. You’ll probably be able to see them peeking around – looking for snack.

Women sharing stories of healing and connection creates safety and opportunity for others women to show up and rise. Join us for the call of the wild ones in this virtual conference for women. I’m excited to be a part of the change we are seeking in the world today, I hope you can join us! Come receive, learn, relax, laugh, and connect with us!

https://mavisfrueh–melissacorter.thrivecart.com/wise-wild-woman-virtual-conference/

I also have some books in stock from our book launch! Message me at mavisfrueh@journeyofenough.com to get your copy today.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Hope you will be able to join us in the conference and hear from these amazing wise wild women!

If God can lead you to it…

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I was scrolling through Facebook before bed, too tired to move off the couch. We did a lot of canning on Labor Day. Whatever we don’t sell at the market, we try to use in some way. Today was salsa and jam day. We made 3 more batches of mild, medium and hot salsa, 3 batches of pasta sauce, strawberry jam, blueberry jam, chokecherry jelly & strawberry rhubarb jam. It was more than twelve hours of prepping, cooking & canning. My husband carried a canner full of jars and water up and down our patio steps many times on Monday. He wore gloves & glasses to prep the jalapeños for the hot salsa. Everyone stayed safe, so it was a good day. We do the canning outside on a propane stove. It keeps the heat out of the house and it’s much quicker.

Anyway, I saw this quote from Toby Mac. He’s a Contemporary Christian artist and has lost a son. His words struck a chord with me & I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to write about. We all face struggles of some kind. Most of the time we don’t know what someone else is going through. They may have lost a loved one, struggled to get out of bed, battled depression/loneliness/anxiety, struggled with hidden health issues… the list goes on. After I was done with breast cancer treatment, I had a bit of a panic attack. I wasn’t “actively” doing anything… no more surgery or radiation, no more regular doctor visits… I was just set free to do what? Now what? It’s a strange feeling. Like maybe when you’re not fighting anymore, it will come back?

I met with a counselor at the cancer center and also met with mentor (someone who had been through breast cancer herself). I asked, “Does it ever get easier? Is there a day when you don’t think about it?” Their answer was “kind of.” Eventually it doesn’t consume your every thought… other things fill in. You make plans for the future instead of putting plans on pause, you take some chances you had held off on, you find a new routine. I’m thankful that now I have to do math to remember how long it’s been. This past Memorial weekend was 6 years since my last surgery. This coming December will be 7 years from diagnosis. The thing is, it won’t ever go away. It will always be a part of me, always a part of my story, always a concern for my family.

But I like to think I have helped others who have gone through cancer. I’ve shared tips for them and for their caregivers, I’ve sent care packages to strangers, answered questions when I could and said many prayers for healing and strength. I remember hearing, “If God can lead you to it, God can lead you through it.” FYI, this was not helpful for me. It kind of made me mad. Why did God lead me to breast cancer at 41? Why did God make me give that news to my family & take me on a journey I didn’t ask for? Why did some friends turn away and abandon me? Why was work so challenging while dealing with such an illness? I don’t have the answers. Maybe it is because I was meant to help someone else.

The same could be said for you. Have you struggled with something and then been able to help someone else? You might not even realize the impact you had. It forms a connection. I picture a spider web in my mind… a small strand connecting us to someone else. When you get enough of those strands, the web can be pretty strong.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Stop and take a moment to reflect on how you’ve helped someone else. You are here for a reason, even if it’s not apparent to you, you’ve no doubt made a difference in someone’s life. Maybe God really did lead us to it.

What if….

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Matthew West has a new song, talking about living life to the fullest. My sister thought it would make a good blog post. She’s right, only I don’t feel like I can give it justice. I’m not doing these things. I’m not going all in or prioritizing right. Yes, I’ve crossed some things off my bucket list. I’ve checked off some of the things I knew I wanted, and added to the list with things I never dreamed of. But I don’t feel like I live every day to the fullest. I feel like I hold back, I underestimate my abilities, I assume infinite tomorrow’s. There’s always a someday or a maybe when… does that mean I’m filled with regrets? I’m honestly not too sure. Yes and no.

The thing with regret is, I usually think it as something in the past that I did, instead of something that I haven’t done yet. I do have some “I wish I would have” moments… things I didn’t do. I’ll let you read his words and see how it resonates with you.

What If – by Matthew West:

[Verse 1]
I’ve heard ’em say before to live just like you’re dying, yeah
Wish I could say that’s how I am but I’d be lying, yeah
Lying in my bed at night one too many times, I’m thinking
What if? (What if?) What if? (What if?)

[Verse 2]
My biggest fear is waking up to find what matters
Is miles away from what I spent my life chasing after
Is my story gonna have the same two words in every chapter?
What if? (What if?) What if? (What if?)

[Pre-Chorus]
But last I checked this heart inside my chest, is still beating
Well I guess it’s not too late

[Chorus]
What if today’s the only day I got?
I don’t wanna waste it if it’s my last shot, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
No regrets, in the end
I wanna know I got no what-ifs
I’m running ’til the road runs out
I’m lighting it up, I’m right here, right now, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
No regrets, in the end
I wanna know I got no what-ifs, yeah

Verse 3]
See I refuse to be a should’a, would’a, could’a been
I can’t go back in time, I don’t have a DeLorean
What I’m tryna say is I don’t wanna say these words again
What if? What if?

[Pre-Chorus]
But last I checked this heart inside my chest, is still beating
Well I guess it’s not too late, no no

[Chorus]
What if today’s the only day I got?
I don’t wanna waste it if it’s my last shot, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
No regrets, in the end
I wanna know I got no what-ifs
I’m running ’til the road runs out
I’m lighting it up, I’m right here, right now, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
No regrets, in the end
I wanna know I got no what-ifs

[Bridge]
I’m gonna dream a little bigger, burn a little brighter
Stand a little taller, closer to Your fire
Dig a little deeper, reach a little further
Love a little harder
I’m gonna dream a little bigger, burn a little brighter
Stand a little taller, closer to Your fire
Dig a little deeper, reach a little further
Love a little harder

There it is. I feel like I take steps forward and steps back. An open book, then a closed up clam shell… ready to take on the world, then not able to move… cleaning like crazy, then unable to put my clothes away. Adulting is hard. Please don’t give up. People need your light. It’s ok to not shine bright each day, just don’t forget about your flame.

I’m wishing you peace on your journey of enough. Peace for your heart, peace for your body, peace for your soul. May you be surrounded in love and light. Maybe the song will spark a “what if” for you too.

Someone must have…

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Last weekend, we moved our son 853 miles west to Montana State University in Bozeman. We packed up 2 (pretty full) vehicles and got there on Friday afternoon. He took care of a few things on campus & we went out for supper. Move in day (Saturday for us) was scheduled in 2 hour time blocks. It went pretty well. Since it’s been 29 years since I moved to college, I wasn’t sure how things would go. We unloaded the vehicles and hauled some of the gear up the 3 flights of stairs, used the laundry carts and other carts into the elevators for the big stuff. Thankful for a cool, breezy day, we didn’t have to start the fans right away. The open window was enough to keep us from sweating.

The room is pretty small and has seen a better day. I’m thankful he is in an actual room and not a temporary arrangement like some students. We set up the loft, put down some carpet & started putting things away. He took care of his clothes and soon realized he probably brought too much. (Fewer $2 laundry loads I guess?!) He happens to be right across from the bathroom. My husband went in there and snapped a pic of the bulletin board. “Please do not wash your bike in the shower.” Not even making that up… it’s a laminated poster…. because someone must have done it before. I will always remember one of the rules from my college handbook I found amazing was “do not loft a water bed”… because someone must have. Can you imagine the mess that must have made??

Somewhere there is a notebook or a list of “things to add to the rule book” because someone must have tried it. It made a mess, created a hazard or resulted in damage. 29 years ago, I started out in a 2 room suite with a shared bathroom at the University of North Dakota. My 2nd year, I had a single room in the freshman/women’s dorm because I was a resident assistant. I thought I’d be an RA for the room and board discount. I also thought I might want to go into counseling field… until I was an RA. That changed my field pretty quickly. I was a Physical Therapy major with a Theater minor, thought of switch to psychology or counseling, ended up with a Mass Communication major and a Sociology minor, working in manufacturing. My point is… not everyone knows what they want to do. Granted, there are some people who just know what they want to do. I was not one of them.

4,000 freshman arrived on campus last weekend. Some flew, others drove… some had u-haul trucks, others had a couple of bags… some are local, others traveled long distances… some had family and friends along, others were alone. One thing will unite these 4,000 young adults – they are now all Bobcat Freshman. Will someone do something silly that will end up as a new rule for future freshman? Maybe. I hope my son is not one of them.

I fully thought I was prepared for him to go, then I wasn’t, then I was. I’m pretty sure everyone thought I’d be a mess and would be sobbing on the way home, but I wasn’t. A few tears shed when I wrote him a letter & put it in a favorite childhood book… a few tears when I hugged him goodbye. We didn’t have a fun “last week together,” or special meals before he left. Several circumstances prevented that. We didn’t acknowledge the last meal we’d share around our dinner table or how empty his room would be. So maybe I’m in denial… or maybe I’m just happy for him and proud of how far he’s come. I will miss our end of the day conversations and even waiting up for him to come home. I know things won’t be the same, but 1 day into this, I don’t know yet what it will look like. As my mentor said, “You’ve spent a year preparing for this, sharing your feelings and surrounding yourself with people who support you. You’ve created more new things aside from your kids. It’s ok to just be happy.”

So, to him and all the freshman, in the advice of my husband, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” Don’t be the someone who must have washed their bike in the shower, or other crazy things. Have lots of fun, learn new things, meet new people & find your independence. Advocate for yourself and also be open to new opportunities. And call your parents every now and then, they probably miss you.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. We got this, we will get through it, and we will learn something about ourselves along the way.

I’d rather be “a little much…”

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Color within the lines… follow the rules… don’t make waves… sit and listen… From the time our children are babies, we can’t wait for them to talk. Then they turn 2 and we wish there was a volume control. They may go through teen years where they rarely speak at all to us,but can talk to their friends non stop. They get ready to go to college and we wish we could talk to them in person.

As we get ready to send our oldest son to MSU Bozeman, I thought it would be fun to have their school colors (blue and gold) as my nail color. “It’s a little much, mom,” he said, after I excitedly asked what my son thought of my new (self done) manicure. It got me thinking about how many times I was a little much in my life… and how often I played it safe. The “little much” stories are lots more fun, although most people would say I tend to play it safe.

This past weekend, our youngest son and his buddy were in a bowling tournament. They started bowling last year, and something just clicked. They were both hooked. Soon they began learning the bowling terminology, talking about different types of bowling balls, shoes and lane oil patterns. They bowled with masks and had to take a break when the bowling alley shut down for a while. They signed up for the hometown/Midwest tournament and practiced a few times a week. Some days their scores would be low because they were trying out new things. 265 bowlers signed up for the tournament. The first day, he didn’t want to wear his new bowling shirt because he didn’t want to “look too professional.” So he wore his lucky bowling shirt, which is a Christmas/Dunder Mifflin shirt. He had a great day and got his highest score. He advanced to the semifinals in 2nd place. First place was the buddy he bowls with!

Day 2 (not planning on this being a multi day event), he decided to wear his new bowling shirt. He stood out, he was a little much. It was awesome. Even the announcers commented on how awesome his shirt was.

They both bowled well, and he ended up in 3rd place. His buddy was first. In bowling tournaments, the kids win scholarship money. Since we are navigating college expenses with his brother, having a head start on scholarships is a wonderful thing! I was proud of them for how well they did, but also how polite they were and how much fun they had. He went up to the organizers, thanked them and said he had a great time. I did not prompt this, he did it on his own.

The awesome thing about his shirt and my nails is that we each love them. It didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. It was fun and made us happy. Win/win. Sometimes you’ll find JOY outside of the lines. We will be packing and driving almost 900 miles one way. At least it will be below 70 instead of 95!

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. I hope you’ll take a chance and do something you wouldn’t normally do.

Spending time…

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“Time is money…” “Spending time…” “Wasting time.” Somewhere along the way, we began to equate time and money. Maybe it’s because we’re paid by the hour? Or maybe we realize how valuable time really is?

“Days of Our Lives” is still a soap opera and it must have enough followers to continue to produce shows. Although I haven’t watched it in many years, I’m sure some of the same characters are still there. I could probably pick it up and be able to follow along despite a 20 year break. “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.” Who would have known a TV show opening lines would have so much meaning? Time slipping away like grains of sand in the hourglass. I can picture the grains as events… moments… good or bad, happy or sad, all slowly moving to the other side. We don’t know how many we have. Each person’s is different.

Only God knows how many days we have. Some hourglasses are small and some are large. For many years, I couldn’t picture myself growing old. It worried me. “Did this mean I would die young?” I wondered if it was a premonition. It bothered me that I couldn’t envision a 95 year old me. That was probably around the same time I thought 47 seemed super old though. I’m not sure. Now I find it fun to think about the what if’s. Twenty five years ago, I didn’t imagine my life today. Marriage (grain of sand), two sons (grains of sand), 3 main jobs (grains of sand), 4 different houses (grains of sand), published author, cottage food baker… it wasn’t all on my list. How have I spent my time? Did I wisely use my grains of sand? Either way, I don’t get them back.

Tonight I spent some time with our youngest son, who is learning to drive. I spent time with him at the bowling alley. I spent some time with the cat. I spent some time talking to our oldest son, as he prepares to move to Montana next week. I spent some time making supper and dessert (spent time=saved money). Spending time seems like it has a positive spin. We also waste time too. Sometimes the wasted time adds grains of regret or guilt. These too, we cannot get back.

The passage of time has been on my heart a lot lately. Not only because of our son moving away, but seeing my great nieces and nephews change, seeing my parents age, seeing my grey hairs become more plentiful… all reminders of the passage of time. It can seem so fast and so slow all at once. I know there are some moms who will be missing their kids and others who can’t wait for summer break to be over. It’s ok. It’s ok to not have the answers. It’s ok to feel “all the feels.” It’s ok to spend your time however you want. Your journey is yours. Embrace it.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. (And if you want to spend some of your time reading a good book, I still have some for sale! )

The village changes…

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Shopping at Target, I walked by the cute little newborn onesies & mini dinosaur socks on my way to the dorm room supplies. Instead of sippy cups, I’m looking for water filter pitchers. The mental list is a long one, so I try to write random notes when I think about it… extra forks & spoons, ibuprofen, scissors, Kleenex etc. There is a Target in Bozeman. I’m not sending him out into the wilderness alone. He is fully capable of getting anything he needs. This isn’t an episode of Survivor.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. I think your village must shift around this stage of life. The village changes to support the moms. I cannot speak for the dads, I feel like many of them don’t talk about this stuff. I’ve seen my village shift over the last 8 months. From supporting me while I looked through senior pics, to helping get ready for graduation open house, and now as I navigate the “last 16 days”””… it’s my friends and family who have picked me up. My village is changing.

  • A friend reminding me to journal out my feelings and (safely) burn the paper…
  • My sister sending an encouraging card…
  • A friend helping me navigate trying to get residency for a new state …
  • A friend listening to me wonder out loud about financial aid and logistics…
  • My sister sending a text to let me know she’s thinking of me…
  • Encouraging words from a friend who has been there…
  • A hug…
  • My husband’s patience as I order another “must have” from Amazon or Target, based on the Bobcat parent group or the ‘Grown and Flown’ group…

I feel like I’m prepared for this some days and other days I read an article about time flying and my eyes get misty. It’s so confusing to feel excited for him, nervous, sad, guilty and happy all at once. It’s strange because we didn’t have a senior year of “lasts” since he was enrolled at the tech school at the same time. It seems like the summer has flown and now I’m starting to use my packing list. I did pick up some extra Kleenex today and a really cool fan came to the door step from Costco.

The past 7 years, I’ve learned to ask for help (more than before). I’ve built a support system and had it shift and change. I’ve tried to prepare him to be out in his own, and he’s made me proud so many times. My village is changing and that’s ok. I’m thankful for those who have stuck with me and continue to support my roller coaster ride.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. If your village is changing, that’s ok… and if your new college momma is randomly teary, let her tears flow. Next time she will be sharing about the fun college adventures of her new adult.

Muscle memory…

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I often get asked about my pie crust. It really is delicious, if I do say so myself. I was thinking about it the other day, and realized it’s probably a muscle memory thing. I’ve been baking pies for over 30 years. The crust ingredients aren’t fancy. It’s not a trade secret. Crisco, flour, salt and water. That’s it. Oh, and the special mixing fork. The perfect pie crust just “feels right.” There isn’t a good way to describe it. I mix the first three ingredients until they look just right, and then add the water and mix it until that looks just right. I’ve taught my sons how to make cookies and Krispie treats, but pie crust is tricky. They have made them for 4-h projects, but that’s about it.

An athlete knows when it feels just right. Baking isn’t necessarily a sport, but it’s a similar concept. The Olympics started and I’ve watched a few events. We assume this is easy, but it’s not. From our couch, it seems to go by quickly. They practice hours per day. Their muscles know how to propel them through the water or twist through the air because they’ve done it thousands of times.

Watching the Olympics is always inspiring to me. I remember watching the Winter Olympics on our green and gold couch with my leg in a full cast. This was before cable TV or internet or smart phones. I wonder how many people are inspired enough to say, “I can do that.”? The age range of Olympians is impressive. A 13 year old skater, a 45 year old gymnast… think of the combined hours of practice for all of these athletes. Wow. My hours of pie making doesn’t compare… but it’s not supposed to. Olympics weren’t in my plan, it wasn’t part of my goals.

I have a lot of respect for the women’s gymnastics team. For Simone knowing when she had to stop and for the other 3 girls for stepping in and winning silver. It’s raising a lot of awareness about mental health. We all have mental health, some people are more aware of their boundaries. It’s OK to not be OK, it’s not OK to not advocate for yourself.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. While I’m making blue & red pies and star shaped cookies this weekend, I’ll be thinking of those athletes. I wonder if any of them are bakers too.

Do you validate?

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I’m not talking about parking. I’m talking about validation of feelings. I often think, “Why am I writing? What’s the point?” And then I would read an article from someone else and it would make me feel like I’m not alone. So that is why. I may end of being the validation for someone else. You just never know what someone else is going through or what they need to hear. If I can make someone feel like they are validated and not alone, then I’ve done my job.

The recent articles that made me feel validated were about exhausted moms, moms of seniors getting ready to go to college, introverts needing to recharge, and the value of true friendships. Sometimes when I’m writing, I feel exposed. “Wow, did I just write that? What will someone think?” They will think they aren’t alone, they aren’t crazy, and they can get through it. There is something about feeling like you have something in common with someone that gives you a bond. You feel validated in your emotions.

So my recent dilemma is with my cat. He is a shelter cat, probably 6 years old. Neutered male who was in and out of the shelter. He was an outside cat that would do ok inside. We took him home and he lives (mainly) in the garage. He likes to visit inside, but also loves to chase squirrels, birds, chipmunks and gophers. He’s had a couple of urinary blockages. He is otherwise fine and only went to the vet for his yearly shots. Now he has been in and out of the vet, the emergency vet and now he’s referred for surgery. I guess it’s common for male cats. I had no idea. I love the cat. My sons love the cat. My husband is not a fan. I grew up with farm cats, but Toothless is different. I am not sure I can explain it, other than “he’s part of the family.”

I kept reaching for an answer… for someone to tell me what to do. I spoke with a friend who validated my feelings. Loss of a cat at this time is not something I could handle. I reluctantly drove the cat 2 hrs to a vet who can do the surgery. I brought my laptop so I can work remotely. Decisions like this are not easy. It’s one of those adult decisions I am not prepared for. Hopefully the kitty will be ok, the recovery will go well, and the payment plan will work out.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Whatever your struggle, you may be surprised at who else is also going through it or has gone through it already. We are interconnected by an invisible web, woven together with shared experiences. We just don’t always see it until later.

6 and counting…

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This is the shirt I wore on Monday. I normally just wear it around the house, but I thought it was appropriate. For 15 minutes, it sat on the chair in the doctor’s office for my yearly checkup (not that kind). I’ve graduated from oncology follow up appointments being every 6 months. Now I just go yearly for in person visits, still alternating MRI and mammogram every 6 months. It’s been over 6 years since I rang the bell. Each time I walk back into the cancer center, it takes my breath away a little bit.

Today’s appointment was fairly uneventful. I did get the green light to skip the dexascan (bone density) every 2 years. Since my numbers looked good last time, the Examestane & lack of estrogen must not be creating any bone issues. Although the dexascan is not painful or uncomfortable, there is something reassuring about not having to get one done. I’m 47, so osteoporosis is not super common, but it is more likely given my medical situation (side effects of estrogen reducing drugs and total hysterectomy/menopause). The Dr also asked if I wanted to continue the meds I’m on. I said “yes,” because my physical side effects are minimal (everyone is different), and I had aunts with breast cancer more than once. If a tiny, once a day pill can prolong my life, I’m all for it. And now that I met my deductible, the $500/month is covered.

We chatted awkwardly about the weather and how I had been feeling. I had nothing to note, really. I recently had my MRI, which showed small change in right side lymph nodes, but nothing to be worried about. We talked about my vertigo and other routine medical things. It was wonderfully uneventful. As soon as he left the room and I put my “breathe” shirt back on, I did just that. I took a deep breath and texted my family & friends that I had the “all clear” for another year. I walked outside into the sunny, 85 degree day, took off my mask and took a deep breath again. I walked over to the sculpture, snapped a picture and gave thanks. I’m thankful for my health, the support of my friends and family, the ability to keep sharing my story, and for the wonderful sunshine.

Why do I share such a mundane thing? Because for cancer survivors, it’s not over when they ring the bell. It’s not over when the treatment ends, when the scars heal or when their hair grows back. It’s a lifelong sensitivity to their health, follow up appointments they don’t discuss, health scares they may worry about in silence. They become the family member or friend who had cancer. They become an expert even when they don’t feel like they are… but they have been through it. They get calls or texts or messages from people asking how to help their newly diagnosed loved one… because they have been though it. I have been through it. While it is in my past, it will still make me pause each time I walk through those doors and wait for my appointment… thankful that I can just breathe.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Wherever you are, it’s always a good reminder to breathe deep & say a “thank you” when you do. And if you’re in Fargo, ND and want a fun treat, check out the Thai ice cream rolls at Tea & Crepe downtown. We had a nice walk downtown, stopping at some shops and visiting with friends.