My friends, Mac and Allison, invited me to join them this weekend for a game in Autzen Stadium in Eugene, OR. They have a grandson who plays football for the University of Oregon Ducks.
A tight end. Six feet, 5 inches tall. Two-hundred thirty pounds. A little, scrawny guy.
My friends’ grandson, Cameron McCormick (Photo SportsPress)
I was looking through some photos of my recent, more-fun-than-ought-to-be-allowed road trip, and came across this pic of my big brother and me standing at an observation deck above Snowbird in a gorgeous land called Utah.
Hanging out with big brother above Snowbird
Four more days until the September 22 Porch Fairy Challenge!
All photos: Marlys
A Porch Fairy is someone who leaves thoughtful gifts on a front porch—or on the hood of a car, or on the desk of a co-worker—when the occupants of the house, car, desk could use some encouragement.
Road trip! Three Mountain States in nineteen days. I’ve been to a gorgeous high-altitude ranch above Aspen, Colorado; a Utah ski resort busy with summertime activity; and as I write this, I’m holed away in a cozy, remote cabin in Idaho.
Photo: Pixabay
It seems I’m not afraid of road trips alone. Or staying in remote places alone. Yet, for all my bravado, there is something I’m a little afraid of.
A blog reader recently sent email about his wife who died too quickly after a cancer diagnosis. “I was unprepared and now alone. My awesome wife and friend … was now missing from my life,” he wrote.
Photo: Gary Johnson
At a one-day writers’ conference last spring, I had a 15-minute meeting with a literary agent. She asked me to tell her about my book proposal, and then provided excellent feedback from someone inside the publishing industry.
“I like a phrase you used: ‘How to live well through adversity.’ What do you mean by living well?” she asked.
Photo: Unsplash
A friend of mine started dating a man six months after he was diagnosed with cancer. At the start of their relationship, he was open about his health issues. And then cancer showed up stronger, and he walled himself off.
Photo credit: Unsplash
“He won’t let me give him any hands-on care,” my friend said. “And he doesn’t want me to be there emotionally for him.”
The couple split a few months later because the guy wasn’t willing to let my friend into his pain. Which means he turned away an amazing gift of love and support.
I met him this past week at the coffee machine in my son and daughter-in-law’s Tucson apartment complex. We exchanged pleasantries and then I asked – shamelessly – how long he’d been in a wheelchair.
Photo: Marlys
One of the lessons cancer taught us was to pay closer attention. To life. To time ticking away. To simple pleasures, such as, sound of water rushing over large boulders; smell of sunbaked pine needles; strain of muscles and sense of accomplishment; another hike together, even as cancer was stealing a little more of my husband’s life each day.
Sept 2013 in Wyoming’s Tetons – nine years into a terminal cancer diagnosis
My friend (and jewelry designer) Jim Dailing shot this updated Renew | Repurpose photo with a beautiful renovated barn hiding behind the pink blossoms. (Thank you, Jim … I love it!)
Photo credit: Jim Dailing
Copyright © 2024 Marlys Johnson
