Author: Marlys Lawry Page 39 of 54

I’m dog-sitting two beautiful girls. 14-year-old Sadie and 2-year-old Charlie. Both Labrador retrievers, but Charlie has an added mix of crazy energy.

A pine cone from the yard is her favorite go-to *ball.* The first time we came indoors after playing, Charlie snagged a decorative pine cone off my desk. Look what I found! Does this mean we can keep playing fetch?!

I made her drop it and — while gathering up other low-lying pine cones — Charlie found a softer ball.

“If you didn’t mean for me to play fetch with this ball, you shouldn’t have left it in a basket on the floor.” 

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A year ago, not too long after Hubby died, I relocated to Southern California where I learned to stay off the 405 during certain hours; enjoyed fabulous fish tacos from a hole-in-the-wall place on Venice Beach; rode DIL Denise’s pink-rimmed bike to grocery store, beach, post office.

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Hubby referred to himself as a realist. But he was really a pessimist, this cautious man with his strong, analytical, computer-programmer brain. Whenever I came up with a brilliant idea—which was quite often—he was quick to point out everything that could possibly go wrong.

Hubby: “What if (fill in the blank) happens?”

Me: “But what if it doesn’t?”

We made a great team. He kept me thinking realistically about his cancer; I encouraged him to live well with cancer and plan beyond the ‘due date’ projected by the doctor.

Which means this thought from Robert Brault resonates with me:

An optimist is someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster, it’s more like a cha-cha.

Photo credit: Pixabay

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I used my widow card the other day. But it must have expired. Because it didn’t work. Maybe I should quit using my situation as a means of manipulation, or as an excuse, ya think?

Photo credit: Pixabay

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This text from Daughter Summer a couple weeks ago: “I’m playing around with the idea of going to an adoption conference in Seattle. I was wondering if you’d be available to meet me there and hang out.”

A twelve-hour, round-trip drive — alone — over mountain passes to Seattle from Oregon — in winter — is probably a little on the impractical side.

Taking the ferry  from Seattle to Bainbridge Island

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On our last road trip together — through Yellowstone down into Colorado and the orange canyons of southern Utah — Hubby was watching for wildlife.

Photo credit: Unsplash

I, on the other hand, was watching for barns.

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If you could simplify your life, would you? I don’t know who Mark Buchanan is, but apparently he knows me. Because I’m pretty sure he wrote this about me:

I cannot think of a single advantage I’ve ever gained from being in a hurry. But a thousand broken and missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all the rushing … Through all that haste I thought I was making up time. It turns out I was throwing it away.

 

Photo credit: Unsplash

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I didn’t know I was marrying the most thoughtful and kind man in the world. I didn’t know he would keep me laughing until the end. I didn’t know he’d always put me and the kids first.

Photo credit: Pixabay

Always.

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With love in the air and roses on sale for $25 per dozen and Valentine’s Day looming up ahead, this question:

Would you still marry your spouse if you knew you would walk beside him/her with aching heart as they endured cancer treatment; loss of appetite, loss of weight; became childlike before taking a final breath sooner — oh, so much sooner — than you had imagined? Would you still marry?

Of course you would. Because the sweet years with your husband, your wife would be worth the pain of loss.

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When Hubby was first diagnosed, we asked about diet and exercise. “That’s like closing the barn door after the horse has gotten out,” said one oncologist (not the oncologist we ended up hiring).

One urologist said, “I heard lycopene is good for prostate cancer, and tomatoes have lycopene, so you might want to eat more tomatoes.”

“Good,” said Hubby out of earshot of the doctor. “I’ll add more tomatoes to my Big Macs and I’ll be just fine.”

Photo credit: Pixabay

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