Daughter Summer is losing her playfully-sarcastic edge. Last week I sent her this text: “Today I moved my wedding ring to my right hand.”
Summer: “Wow. Big step.”
I’m not sure who this girl is. The daughter I know would have shot back with something like: “Does this mean I’m getting a new dad?!”
My friend, Mike, emailed a couple of photos of the first hike he did with us, before he was the official hike leader. The photos sent me pouring back through old hiking pictures that represent the hundreds of miles Hubby and I put in together.
My favorite pair of boots were in desperate need of new heels. “You’ve been having fun,” commented the shoe repair guy as he studied the damage.
“I walk with purpose.”
Photo credit: Unsplash
“A lady on a mission with determination,” he responded with a smile.
Why, yes. Yes, that would be me.
Snow falling cold and beautiful. Warm fuzzy scarf wrapped two and three times around my neck. Hot lunch in a fire-lit restaurant with new and old friends.
Noticing blessings and naming them is one of the things that saved me while standing watch as Hubby slipped away, as I stumbled into widowhood.
Thanksgiving lists. Not just for the month of November, I’m thinking. But rather a year-round sport.
I now know everything there is to know about curling, that most fascinating of all Olympic sports.
Four players to a team. The first player bowls the 42-lb marble stone, which glides down a long runway where it can careen off the other players’ stones and send them sprawling (the stones, not the players). The closest stone to the intended goal earns points. While a whole lot of sweeping is going on.
Basically, a combination of bowling, pool, horseshoes, shuffleboard and janitorial services. On ice.
Janitorial services on ice at the new Bend Parks & Rec ice rink
Daughter Summer sent a link to a short video featuring the daughters of Stuart Scott, ESPN announcer and SportsCenter host who died after a lengthy battle with cancer.
today.com
It is a beautifully-made video that ends with these words, in their father’s voice:
When you die, it does not mean you lose to cancer. You beat cancer … by how you live, why you live and the manner in which you live.
My luggage got lost somewhere in Airportland. The return flight from New Jersey was by way of Chicago to Los Angeles to Oregon. I de-planed in Chicago to this v-mail: “Due to delays, you won’t make your connection in LA and so we’ve rescheduled your flight for tomorrow.” What?!
A quick phone call to the airline established a new route home. One seat left. I made the flight. My luggage didn’t.
Pixabay stock photo
In years past, I drafted lists of goals at the beginning of each new year. In several categories. And then Hubby got cancer—which wasn’t on any of my lists—and our main objective was to live as fully as possible while he still had life.
Photo credit: Unsplash
And then my uber-efficiency kicked in and I started reverting these unwritten *live-well* goals back into written lists. In several categories. (A control issue, do you think?)
The New Jersey fam and I went ice-skating earlier this week. First time the three Ugandan-born grandchildren have ever been on skates. Of any kind. First time they’ve seen ice this big.
Daughter Summer: “It’s not Christmas until Santa photobombs your family picture.”
As you already know, this time of year can be a no-tidings-of-great-joy sort of season, especially if you’re dealing with cancer. Or the aftermath of cancer. Or if you’ve lost one of the most valuable treasures ever entrusted to you.
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
If I had to sum up the message of this blog in one sentence it would be something like this: “The reason to not give up on life is because you are needed.”
But let’s get down to the details.
Copyright © 2026 Marlys Johnson
