Since bringing mom-in-law Ivalene home from the hospital, we’ve been hit with the crud. The most energy I’ve expended has been heating up chicken noodle soup and making mugs of TheraFlu and throwing a fleece blanket into the dryer to tuck around my chilled mother-in-law.
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On a snowy day in Boise, mom-in-law Ivalene checked into the emergency room — quite yellow. In the process of correcting her outrageous skin color, pancreatic cancer was discovered.
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The title of a New York Times piece written by a palliative physician, Dr. VJ Periyakoil—“Writing a ‘Last Letter’ When You’re Healthy”—caught my eye.
Photo credit: Pixabay
My friend, Michelle, is a cancer fighter. Although she doesn’t have cancer – nor do her husband or any close family members at present – she is, nevertheless, a fierce passionate dazzling cancer-kicking warrior.
Michelle approached us, back when I was on staff at St. Charles Cancer Center, with an idea: What about a weekly walking class for cancer patients, survivors, caregivers? she suggested which, in the four years since its inception, has come to be known as the Walking-For-Wellness-but-we’re-really-here-for-the-coffee-afterwards crew.
Photo credit: Jim Dailing
New beginnings have always energized me. The challenge of a new deadline, the anticipation of a change in seasons, the turning of calendar pages to a fresh, hope-filled New Year.
But what if we’re still reeling from loss as the calendar page turns? Is it possible to take the hard and turn it into good in 2017? It is.
Photo credit: Pixabay
While heartless unfeeling inconsiderate friends continue sending photos of piles of snow back home, I’m spending Christmas in New Jersey where there is no fluffy white stuff adorning the landscape.
But there’s been plenty of playing, laughing, squealing, listening to Christmas music, gift-giving, nerf gun wars, good eating, Chai tea sipping, Lego building, book reading going on here in Jersey.
Photo credit: Doug Oines
Which has contributed to 5 observations on important life issues this Christmas:
Christmas in New Jersey and I have the grands all to myself for a few days while The Parents meet up with The Aunt & Uncle in a place that involves sunglasses, fun T-shirts and odd-looking ears (hint: Orlando).
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In two days, I fly to the other side of the continent. New Jersey. Home to half my kids, all my grandkidlings, and three-quarters of my grand-dogs. (As well as the NY Giants and NY Jets, in case you needed to know that.)
But before I leave Oregon, one last 2016 hike through Shevlin Park today …
Photo credit: me and my iPhone
… because I can.
My husband, Gary, and I were anticipating hiking a new trail with friends. Four-in-One Cone in the Sisters (Oregon) Wilderness with views of seven distinct, massive, rock-solid peaks. As we began our climb, we found ourselves in the clouds. Dense. Gray. No mountain views in sight. Worse, I couldn’t seem to get warm; I was focused too much on the damp coldness.
A week later, Gary and I hiked the same trail and climbed the same cinder cone. This time, the views were stunning. And although it was cold, my focus was on the splendid 360-degree canvas in shades of blues and whites.
North and Middle Sister, left to right (Photo credit: Gary Johnson)
My practical analytical down-to-earth no-nonsense wry-humored (handsome) husband once said to me: “If you didn’t get your hopes up so much, you wouldn’t get so disappointed.”
I don’t know about that philosophy. It sounds pretty hope-less to me.
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