Ready. Not ready. Ready.

Normally, in MN, we start school after Labor Day. That is still true, but our oldest son started PSEO (Post Secondary Education Option) at the Technical College. He had orientation last week Monday. He is a senior in high school, but he will be 100% at the Technical College for welding.

He is ready. He is ready to be welding. He is ready to be a senior. He is ready to explore. He is ready to set his own schedule.

I’m not ready. I’m not ready for a different senior year. I’m not ready to take senior pictures. I’m not ready for planning a graduation party. I’m not ready to have him move out. I’m not ready to watch him drive away or bring him to college. I’m not ready for an empty room.

But it’s not the end. 18 years is just 1/5th of your lifetime if you live to be 90. What will be other 4/5th of his life bring? Will he remember what he learned at home? Will he have good manners, clean up after himself and be able to cook? What will he miss or fondly remember about his childhood? How often will he return? Will he find someone to share his time? Where will his life path take him?

I’m ready. I’m ready for him to walk across the stage at graduation. I’m ready to hear about his adventures. I’m ready to listen to more hunting and fishing stories. I’m ready for the excitement in his voice when he finds the perfect fishing spot. I’m ready to bake his favorite brownies when he comes home on the weekend.

I could worry about it or I could embrace it. I had to make my own mistakes. I had to fall and pick myself up. He will have to do the same. I have to release control. I have to trust. I will continue to cover him in prayer. I will float between “ready” and “not ready” for the rest of this year… maybe longer. There is a lot I wasn’t prepared for in motherhood. Letting go is one of them.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. To all you moms of seniors, cheers to a great senior year. To any seniors reading, give your mommas some grace and patience. We want the best for you, but we still see that cute little kindergartener when we look in your eyes. And we love you more than you will ever know. (Unless you have kids of your own… and then you will realize the depths of our love for you.) And some day, you too may be ready, not ready, ready.

Silver & searching for Narnia…

25 years ago, I was putting last minute wedding plans in place, prepping for the groom’s dinner and rehearsal, and probably driving everyone around me crazy. Our 25th anniversary is coming up this week. I remember my mom and dad’s 25th. We had a party at Oxbow country club. For our 25th, I was hoping to go somewhere fun… maybe go back to Vegas for the National Finals Rodeo in December or find a relaxing beach vacation. That was before COVID. Instead, we went to a church camp for the weekend with our kids. I don’t want to underplay the significance. I know not everyone makes it to 25. It’s just not really my dream silver anniversary trip. Or was it?

We arrived at the Bible camp Friday afternoon and unpacked to our cabin. This is the 2nd time we’ve stayed away from our house since February. They had lots of safety precautions in place. We spent lots of time outside too. We decided to go for a hike. It was close to 90 and 98% humidity and we forgot to bring bug spray with us. It was a “moderate” hiking trail, which was obviously graded by an experienced hiker (I thought it was advanced). Oh, and we got LOST. Boys and I almost missed supper. After that hike the boys decided their hiking time was done. No more hikes for them.

Saturday, we played games, swam, went on a wagon ride and had lunch. There was a hike after lunch (with a guide) called the Narnia hike. The boys were not up for that. They played basketball and pool instead. Cam and I decided to go. Well, HE decided and I went with. This time, we brought bug spray, the map, and we had a guide. A 3/4 mile hike in to the area they call Narnia. The guide sounded super excited about it. We walked off the trail into the pine and evergreen trees. “This is Narnia,” she exclaimed.

“Narnia”

I almost laughed out loud. It’s our back yard. We hiked all this way for our back yard. We see this every day.

Our back yard

We texted the Narnia picture to the boys. They would have been soooo annoyed to hike all that way for our back yard view. As we made our way back to camp, Cam said, “So, sometimes what you are searching for is right at home.” (Sometimes he is wise) Yes, sometimes what we search for is right in front of us. It might be within ourselves, in our home or with our loved ones. Did we need a fancy trip to celebrate our 25th? Nope. We just needed our family. We needed a private cabin with crummy WiFi and a peaceful camp. Oh, and I didn’t have to cook! We played games: pool, ping pong, air hockey, foosball, basketball, tennis, Battleship, checkers, Sequence, Farmopoly and cards. My Narnia is here every day. It might not always feel magical, but it can be.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you find your Narnia right in your own back yard.

Stuck?

We recently got almost 6” of rain. The left side of this picture is Lake Carlos, and this is the Long Prairie River dam. This chunk of “bog” (cattails, grass & mud) was stuck at the top of the dam. While the water rushed around it, it was just stuck. It can’t go backwards because of the flow of the water. It cannot go over the dam until something changes… either the mud on the bottom erodes to let it flow over or something knocks it over the edge.

Sometimes we can feel like this bog… just stuck in place while everything flows around us at a rapid pace. There is more noise and activity when the water is this high. Behind the cluster seems smooth, but it’s flowing fast. On the other side is a churning, bubbling flurry of activity.

I felt this way when I had cancer. I felt like everything was moving quickly around me and I was stuck. The past seemed more calm, but I couldn’t go back. I was stuck. I was healing and getting better, but time seemed to go in slow motion and fast forward all at once. Looking back, I feel like I missed much of 6-7 months of my life. I tried too hard at times to force myself over the dam & back into the flow.

Since then, I’ve learned what self care is. I’ve learned to recognize when anxiety spins my thoughts out of control. I’ve learned to pause, to stop when I need to… not because I’m stuck, but because I’m observing. I’m figuring out what I need to do next in order to move forward. It’s ok to feel stuck. Just don’t stay at the top of the dam. Find a way to go forward, because you cannot go back.

“Do not cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago. Watch for the new thing I am going to do. It is happening already—you can see it now! I will make a road through the wilderness and give you streams of water there” (Isaiah 43:18b-19).

I think that verse is a good one. God will make a road though the wilderness and give us streams of water. Keep looking forward. I wish you peace on your journey of enough.

Mess and all…

I read a post Monday about being the kind of friend who accepts you how you are… mess and all. Being a “come as you are” friend. Wonderoak & Love What Matters posted it. My sister sent it to me as a reminder. You are always enough. Timing was perfect. It was just one of those days. We all have them. Woke up with a bad headache, had the sniffles and was extra tired. Frustrated by dumb stuff at work. My energy felt slow and thick and heavy. I shared my frustrations with my friend, who didn’t judge me for my feelings or opinions… we just shared our woes and supported each other. We cheer for each other when something good happens. We stop and listen when the other is in distress. We are there for each other, mess and all.

As an introvert, I often have “resting “B” face.” (Sorry mom, you’ll have to Google it) I’m not very approachable. I’m usually lost in my own thoughts. So, I’ve had to adapt over the years… be more approachable, smile more, act the part. I’m kind of like M&M’s with a “hard candy shell.” Lots of walls put up over the years to protect my heart haven’t been torn down yet. I don’t make new friends quickly. I’m usually trying to gauge their perception if I’m “good enough” to be included. I worry too much afterwards why I wasn’t.

So when I find someone who accepts me, mess and all, I’m so thankful. My circle may be small, but they get me. They know I’ll likely obsess over something, overthink and try to regain control. They can talk me back down to earth, help ease anxiety and tell me the truth. They know I’m fiercely loyal and worry about what other people think. They also know I love to give – time, talents, prayers & baked goods. I don’t need a huge superficial group, I need real people who really love me, mess and all.

With all of the division going on, hold onto your circle. Check in and let them know you care. Show up with a coffee or text an uplifting message. Overlook their pile of laundry or stack of dishes. Honestly, my friend’s house looks like a Magnolia home photo shoot. Mine can be borderline “Hoarders” some days (but not that bad). When she comes to visit, she doesn’t see the mess, she comes to see me, mess and all. Our messes aren’t always visible- sometimes it’s an internal struggle, a mess of a marriage, relationship or belief. Supporting your friend means supporting them through it all. You find your own rhythm and what works for you both. Your circle will ebb and flow, twist and turn. Being your authentic self is a freeing thing. It allows you to be true to who you are meant to be, and that will spark joy.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you find someone to be there for you, mess and all.

Yabut …

My high school art teacher recently passed away. She was a cool lady. She told it like it is … no sugar coat at all. She didn’t like it when someone said, “Yeah, but….” She would stop you. “There is no yabut,” she would say. Either you agree or you don’t. I think that was her point.

There are lots of debates being waged on social media. Lots of yabuts. Lots of keyboard warriors on a crusade. I’m guessing the posts have changed very few minds. If I strongly believe something, some stranger yelling at me isn’t likely to make me suddenly switch. Instead of yabuts, what about “yes, and?”

  • Yes, I believe in God, AND I think others can believe whatever they like.
  • Yes, I want to get back to normal, AND I worry about my high risk family members.
  • Yes, I support friends who are cops AND there are some changes that need to be made.
  • Yes, kids are missing school AND I have family who would be impacted because they are school staff.
  • Yes, I understand the desire to go back to work, AND I’m a wreck with anxiety.
  • Yes, I want to travel and explore AND I want to stay in my house.

It’s draining. The energy around people is almost visible right now. Tension, anger, frustration… if I could float down the river each night, I would. Tonight, I’m pressing pause. I’m sitting in a lawn chair on a gorgeous MN night… reading a book and writing to you. Asking you to pause. Put down the anger and frustration. Leave the “yabuts” for a while. Look for some miracles or inspiration or something positive. I almost didn’t write today because I was too overwhelmed… then I figured just maybe someone else needed to pause too.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you have more “yes and’s” and fewer “yabuts,” and take some time for o pause. People will still be angry online tomorrow.

Thankful…

What a roller coaster of emotions.

  • Dad’s PSA was elevated
  • Re-checked, it was higher
  • Biopsy done… cancer
  • Caught it early
  • More tests just to be sure it’s contained
  • Hm, spot in the bone scan
  • Oh, results were wrong, it’s more advanced
  • Urologist left, medical order for Mayo lost
  • Back to Dr
  • Refer to Mayo
  • Expect long wait
  • Can get you in next week
  • Might not cover for insurance
  • Never mind, it’s covered
  • PET & MRI at Mayo
  • Meet with top Urologist
  • Cancer contained
  • Shot now, radiation in 3 months (6-8weeks)

This is a brief summary and I missed a lot of steps, a lot of calls, sleepless nights, calling back, rechecking. Honestly, if it wasn’t for my sister being a nurse and following through, we would still be waiting. I’ve said it before, but the logistics of treating cancer is exhausting. The people start to sound like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoon, “wa wa, wa wa wa wa.” You lose track of time, who knows what part of the story and what the next step will be. Thankfully, we know the cancer is contained and treatment can be somewhat close to them. They will still have to drive, but it’s a much better scenario.

I was supposed to take them, but I had a cough. Something that wouldn’t normally be a big deal, but with COVID it is. Had I become infected? I certainly didn’t want to risk giving it to my parents. I found out they wouldn’t have let me in to the clinic anyway with a cough. I got tested but didn’t get the results back in time. Thankfully, my sister was able to take them. She had been to Mayo, knows the “campus” and is familiar with medical terms. We were so relieved he could get in so quickly and that it was the best possible outcome.

Since I couldn’t be there – helping, listening, driving, “doing” something, I did the only thing I could do – ask for prayers. Whether you believe in God or not, there is power in having many people think good thoughts, pray prayers and send positive/healing energy. I’ve felt it. I’ve felt it wrap me up like a blanket. I felt it 6 years ago while we waited and prayed and hoped for the best outcome for my brother-in-law. We got a miracle 6 years ago, and we got another one on Friday.

His journey isn’t done. He will wear a new badge that he didn’t ask for. He will change the family medical history “tree.” He will be a cancer survivor. Along the way, I may ask for more healing, more prayers, more love to be sent his way & our way. One thing is certain, I saw the look of relief on my parents’ faces, and my heart swelled. There is a plan. It might change again, but at least we have a path. And, we have an army of angels by our sides the whole way. I had the song “Angel Army” in my head and didn’t realize it until later. I envisioned all of those prayers lifting them up, carrying them forward & giving good news.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Whatever you’re facing, I hope you reach out & let someone pray for you or think good thoughts or send you love. We are in this together. God bless.

Not ok…

The flowers don’t match the message, but I wasn’t sure what would. In April, a friend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It brought up memories and made me feel not quite OK. Cancer is never easy. Managing it during a pandemic brings another set of challenges. She has received lots of care packages and love, but it’s still hard to be OK. Comparing one cancer to the other doesn’t make sense. I used to feel like mine wasn’t bad enough at stage 1. It doesn’t mean that it didn’t impact me, wasn’t as scary or didn’t require follow ups & struggles that nobody saw.

Recently, my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. In an effort to feel like I was still in control of life, I went into planning mode. I didn’t allow myself to feel my feelings. I didn’t acknowledge the PTSD flare up and anxiety until one day when it became too much. The old me would have just spun in my head, thinking of 100 “what if’s” and been miserable. Instead, I stopped. I took 1/2 day of vacation and I connected with nature. I picked beans, sat with my chickens and got my fingers dirty pulling weeds. And, I reached out to some friends, which was another big step. I was up front and honest with them. “I’m not ok.” I needed to cry, to be mad, to admit this was hard. I needed the support. I needed to be wrapped in prayer. I needed a reminder to breathe.

How often do we put on a brave face just to seem like we are ok? It’s not just when big things happen, but often we feel like we need to be ok even when we aren’t. Someone passes you in the hall and asks how you’re doing… you say “OK” as you keep walking. We all need someone we can just be honest with. “I’m not ok today. I don’t need you to fix me, I’m not broken. I’m just not ok right now.” I was reluctant to write on this topic right before our trip to Mayo for more tests and meeting with the Urologist. But, I was also selfish. I want to have a bunch of people sending love and light and prayers and positive energy on Wednesday, Thursday & Friday. Please pray for safe travels, for health, for clear scans, for cancer to be contained to the prostate and for a plan. We are all waiting for a plan. We want to heal and fix and “do.” Some days will not be ok, but hopefully the treatments will work and we will have more time.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. It’s ok to not be ok. Lean on your resources, call a friend, connect with nature, breathe.

The nearest exit…

I was picking beans in our garden the other night, and couldn’t figure out what the smell was. Then it dawned on me, “pickles!” Wait, why did I smell pickles in the garden. (I was alone, so I was just asking this in my head.) I heard a bird, turned around, and realized there was a whole row of dill right behind me. Duh, dill. That is why I smelled pickles!

It made me think of the airplane speech they give when you board the plane. As you are shoving your bag under the seat in front of you, adjusting the air or closing the window shade, someone is telling you the safety features. “Keep in mind, the nearest exit may be behind you.” Often when we are faced with a dilemma, we are searching for an answer, an exit or a ‘way out.’ We might be overwhelmed with the possibilities, not even realizing it could be behind us. I’m not suggesting to focus on the past…Although I fall into that trap quite often on my own. Perhaps the answer is in a spot we aren’t seeing right in front of us. Maybe the answer comes from someone else’s past – a road they have already traveled. Perhaps the answer is to the side, but due to the blinders, we don’t see it. We aren’t meant to wear blinders like a horse, but sometimes our tunnel vision can block what we need to see.

Just stop for a minute and breathe. Smell the dill. See the path. Being in nature has been more important than ever for me. The last several months have reminded me to slow down, connect with the earth and be grateful for the simple things. When my mind gets spinning in a hundred directions, I go outside. Outside, I see my chickens, who bring me so much joy. Outside, I pick the vegetables and fruits from the garden, thanking the earth and God for the harvest right in my back yard. Outside, sit in my son’s hammock and listen to the aspen leaves clap, the birds sing their songs, and even the mosquitoes buzzing by my head. I know that connecting in nature is not something that works for everyone. Even going for a walk around the block might help clear your head or spark an idea.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May you find the “newest exit,” the answer you are looking for, the connection in nature to bring you closer to God, the peace your heart and soul long for. It’s kind of a “big dill.”

What sparks a memory…

The picture above is of “pie crust things.” Something delicious that never got a proper name. When my mom baked pies, she would cut off the outer edges, place them on a cookie sheet and sprinkle with sugar & cinnamon. I loved the pies but I looked forward to this tasty treat just as much. It was also a good way to see if your crust was going to be good- kind of like a preview. I vividly remember talking with someone about the pie crust things and they looked at me like I was from Mars. I instantly realized this was not something everyone did. I clammed up, thinking my experience was wrong instead of just different. Most people throw that part away I guess? I can’t imagine.

There is something about these pie crust things that make me think about my childhood. I love the way the house smells when a pie is in the oven. I love the flaky tender pie crust, still warm on the cookie sheet. I remember my dad saying, “This is the best apple pie I’ve had all month” (or insert time frame since the last one.) It’s amazing to me how food can bring back a flood of emotions. Perhaps that’s why I struggle so much with my food relationship. There are certain things I don’t want to let go of. Some things that bring up strong memories:

  • BBBats candy reminds me of being “good” at the doctor or dentist and getting a treat.
  • Blue raspberry popsicles remind me of summer in general.
  • Chick-o-stick candy reminds me of the swimming pool concession stand and of my sister, since this was one of her favorites.
  • Kuchen makes me think of my mom’s side of the family and their great treats.
  • Ginger snaps remind me of my dad’s mom and the tiny cookies she would make at Christmas.
  • Duck with orange sauce reminds me of family birthday dinners at home. I don’t think we went out to eat for birthdays, but we could pick our meal at home.
  • Red velvet cake reminds me of my childhood friend whose mother would make it for her birthday every year.
  • Circle cinnamon crimp bread make me think of a treat from the grocery store.

Clearly, I don’t have this food relationship thing figured out yet. Also, there are some things that you think you love, only to find out it’s not the same. This happened recently with brats from our old grocery store. We remembered them being our favorite. We had them recently & we both agreed they were “ok.” Our memory of them was a higher standard than the real thing.

Perhaps it’s more of a harmony/balance type thing – small amounts that bring those comforting memories, without over-doing it. I’m not sure. If you’re on a journey of self acceptance, change and balance all in one, I’m there with you. I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Oh, and if you’ve never tried the pie crust thing, give it a try. It’s a game changer!

Secret decoder ring…

I recently had a “routine” MRI. Add this to the list of things I never thought I’d have to bother with. Every 6 months for the last 5 years, I either have a mammogram or an MRI. One of the spots they removed 5 years ago was pre-cancer and only found via the MRI. When your tissue is dense, sometimes that’s the best way to see what’s hiding. If you’re not familiar with how this works, first you get into the fancy outfit, then you have an IV put in so they can do a dye contrast. Then you wait. You have to be face down on the table with your chest hanging through the opening. They position you just right, with both arms over your head. They hook up the IV and slowly slide you into the machine. I have no idea what this part looks like because I always close my eyes when I lay down and do not open them until I’m done and out. This is a 30-40 minute procedure. They take the regular pictures and then let the dye flow through so they can see if there is anything they missed. While you are laying on the table, the machine is clicking and banging and whirring. Sometimes it sounds like you’re by a jet engine. This clinic gives you music headphones to wear. So, armed with my contemporary Christian music & a blanket of prayers, I lay there as the machine does its job. The prayers for calm and peace must have worked because I actually fell asleep this time. I woke up to the technician saying, “Are you doing Ok?” When it was all done, I gathered my glasses, the key to my clothes locker and put my mask back on. I changed, used sanitizer and went home.

It was in the mid-90’s that day. I was in a hurry to leave, and I suppose they assumed I have had this done before so I’d know what to do. But, I forgot to drink enough water to flush out the dye. And I was outside in 95 and sun. Every other time I’ve had it done, it’s been winter. Dehydration wasn’t rally a big concern. Mine was pushed out from March to June because of COVID. I think I will remember the water next time. I ended up very sick, vomiting, headache, etc. I had to take the next day off from work because I was still sick. I was able to get rehydrated and rested. It was a Tuesday. I missed my blog post that week. That was why. I hadn’t written it ahead and then got so sick.

I waited for test results. I tried not to worry, but why hadn’t they called? What was up? I sent a note to my Oncologist to see if he had heard anything. He was out of the office. They did reply to me though:

“…stable postoperative and postradiation change of the left breast most pronounced in the 9 o’clock position without suspicious masslike or nonmass-like enhancement. No contralateral abnormality or suspicious adenopathy. Continued breast screening according to ACR and ACS guidelines is recommended. Benign Finding.

This is where the secret decoder ring would come in handy. Um, I think this means I’m good? I forwarded the whole paragraph to my sister who is a nurse, just to confirm. Yep, you’re good. Wheew. Thank God. Meet with the Oncologist this Thursday just to make sure everything else is fine and determine next steps. Navigating medical issues is scary. It’s hard to know what they are talking about, and sometimes it’s overwhelming. If you are going through this, ask questions, but write them down whenever you think about it. You may get doctor’s office amnesia” and forget every question when you sit down. So having a notebook for questions is helpful. Don’t worry if you think it’s a silly question. If it’s bothering you, ask. If something doesn’t seem right, tell them. Their goal is to help you.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. And if you find a ring, maybe it will help.