There are no letters in the alphabet that strike fear in the human heart like the letter C.
Cancer. The Big C.
A few weeks ago my sweet 83 year-old mother-in-law had a routine mammogram. It came back unexpectedly "abnormal." Different from last year. So, it had to be checked out. A needle biopsy was performed, and there were cancer cells present. Even the doctor was surprised.
A diagnosis of breast cancer sets you on a certain path. The steps you follow are almost predetermined, but they are bewildering to a lady who at her advanced age does not need even one prescription medication. Not one. Not even the proverbial low dose aspirin. I hadn't appreciated how unusual that was until all the various doctors and nurses made it a big deal when filling out her medical history or looking at her chart.
Even so, there are decisions to make. Oh, for a doctor to just say, DO THIS and EVERYTHING will be OKAY. But no, there are no guarantees, no magic formulas and no 100% win-win situations. There are pros and cons to any of the choices, and nothing is easy. Just easier here and harder there.
In the end, she opted for a lumpectomy to be followed by five weeks of daily radiation. In any case, if cancer was detected in her lymph nodes, chemotherapy would also be recommended.
Yesterday, the doctor told us she came through the surgery with "flying colors." No problems, no complications. He believes the cancer was caught at a very early stage. And thankfully, there is no cancer in the lymph nodes. She has an excellent prognosis.
My mother-in-law's faith is as strong as a rock. So be it, has been her attitude. "If the Lord is ready for me, I'm ready for the Lord." She may be confused by a myriad of medical details, but she sees the big picture crystal clear.
And that's not such a bad Life example to follow.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
A Marvelous Week of Fifty-two
Time for a spring 'beach fix,' my mama says.
Always ready, let's pack the car, is my reply
(Anytime I drive eight hours, there should be a beach where and when I climb out of the car)
Fourth floor balcony views -
Deep, dark blue, medium aqua, translucent green - shades of a paint card
Rolling, swelling waves of salt and foam sliding over white sand.
Bikinis, swim shorts, flirty skirts, terry cloth wraps, trunks in every length
Sun visors, straw hats, flip flops, sunglasses, beach towels.
UK blue lounge chairs, wide umbrellas rippling in the breeze
Rainbow awnings, sand chairs of every color, kites overhead
Life guard with a clipboard and a jug of water.
Dawn walks in the sand - foggy mist and cold toes
Or rising sun, orange gleaming surf, blinding glare and fishermen.
Shells - scallops, conchs, olives, Scotch Bonnets
Coquinas, auguers, whelks, sand dollars (oh, joy)
Scattered across wet sand.
Seaweed, driftwood, jelly fish bits and pieces, dolphins playing
Portuguese Man O War, but no sharks or rays this trip.
Familiar faces - old friends seen again and again
Some from home, some local
Strangers - good morning and a smile - seen one day and not again.
The beach, the beach town - familiar and beloved - the same and not the same
Changing tides, shifting sands, stormy skies, bright sunshine.
Return to Home Sweet Home ... as always
The vacation, the visit, all too short
The anticipation of another 'beach fix' already building.
Thankful for the blessings - God's amazing creation, mothers and daughters, friends
And traveling mercies to and from.
A marvelous week of fifty-two.
Always ready, let's pack the car, is my reply
(Anytime I drive eight hours, there should be a beach where and when I climb out of the car)
Fourth floor balcony views -
Deep, dark blue, medium aqua, translucent green - shades of a paint card
Rolling, swelling waves of salt and foam sliding over white sand.
Bikinis, swim shorts, flirty skirts, terry cloth wraps, trunks in every length
Sun visors, straw hats, flip flops, sunglasses, beach towels.
UK blue lounge chairs, wide umbrellas rippling in the breeze
Rainbow awnings, sand chairs of every color, kites overhead
Life guard with a clipboard and a jug of water.
Dawn walks in the sand - foggy mist and cold toes
Or rising sun, orange gleaming surf, blinding glare and fishermen.
Shells - scallops, conchs, olives, Scotch Bonnets
Coquinas, auguers, whelks, sand dollars (oh, joy)
Scattered across wet sand.
Seaweed, driftwood, jelly fish bits and pieces, dolphins playing
Portuguese Man O War, but no sharks or rays this trip.
Familiar faces - old friends seen again and again
Some from home, some local
Strangers - good morning and a smile - seen one day and not again.
The beach, the beach town - familiar and beloved - the same and not the same
Changing tides, shifting sands, stormy skies, bright sunshine.
Return to Home Sweet Home ... as always
The vacation, the visit, all too short
The anticipation of another 'beach fix' already building.
Thankful for the blessings - God's amazing creation, mothers and daughters, friends
And traveling mercies to and from.
A marvelous week of fifty-two.
Friday, March 23, 2012
A Tribute to Authors
A Tribute to Authors
First, a quote from Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life ~
"For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a mircle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die."
Oh, Anne. Oh, you guys. That expresses my feelings about books and reading SO WELL.
I have loved books - and reading - all my life. This quote says so well what my emotional response to words is like; they're as necessary as food, water, vitamins and love. As required as breathing. Books help me heal when I'm down and make me laugh and lift me up. Books let me share an author's thoughts and feelings and adventures (which I only want to share vicariously) and genius; they make me cry, love, think ... FEEL. There is nothing so satisfactory to a reader as the beauty of a phrase, a well thought out metaphor or simile, a snarky comment by the MC, a unique relationship, a surprising but satisfactory end, a story that touches the heart. And then becomes ... unforgettable. A classic.
I'm thankful for books - especially for the greatest Book of all, and its Author - and for writers who as such brilliant wordsmiths, share their gift with readers. Whether they're hurled out, gently placed, messy, suspenseful or delightfully funny, I love their words. I "see" the graphic pictures in my head and live vicariously, until the last page is turned, in the world of those characters.
I'm thankful for Courtney - who allows me to move her commas around, un-dangle her particples and unite her infinitives (which tumble from her super creative, genius brain in beautiful draft form) and even swap a word here and there. She let's me SHARE her writing process. Oh, how satisfactory it is - the joy, the fun, the creation of, the WRITING (I have the fun and she does all the hard work, I hasten to add), the inspiration of it all. And I'm thankful for a family who fosters my love for books. For my parents who always, always found money for books even when money was short everywhere else, and for Ron and Matt who are always ready to "talk books."
It's such a community. The one inside our heads. The ability to share what's tumbling around in there. The blessing of meeting other writers ... who UNDERSTAND, who "get it." I enjoy it so!
It seems very appropriate to post my tribute today. This afternoon the hubs and I will see The Hunger Games (we're too "old" to attend midnight premiers - we like to watch our movies, not "nap" through them). I'm excited in a very impatient, can't wait kind of way, but I want to SAY OUT LOUD: this is not just a movie. REMEMBER! The Hunger Games started Life as a book, a series of books. I can't help but think of Suzanne Collins - did she dream that one day the words she thought of and put on paper, words that conjured such graphic images for her readers, would end up on the big screen? I wonder how it felt to let her words go out of her heart and into the hands of actors and actresses for their interpretation (not to mention directors and all the general, digital geekiness that's involved in making a good movie). What if they didn't 'get it.' Must be scary, and at the same time, very wonderful.
But yes, scary.
The movie reviews are good. The writers I know, those who saw it last night, liked it, loved it, were awed by it. I'll probably feel that way, too. But my hat's off to you, Suzanne Collins! Thank you for creating Katniss and Peeta and Gale, all the characters (and yes, even Haymitch) and for allowing us to share their World!
Thank you, Authors, for sharing your incredible imagination; you inspire us, entertain us and make us feel.
Salute!
PS later that night - the movie version of The Hunger Games did not disappoint! We loved it!
First, a quote from Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life ~
"For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a mircle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die."
Oh, Anne. Oh, you guys. That expresses my feelings about books and reading SO WELL.
I have loved books - and reading - all my life. This quote says so well what my emotional response to words is like; they're as necessary as food, water, vitamins and love. As required as breathing. Books help me heal when I'm down and make me laugh and lift me up. Books let me share an author's thoughts and feelings and adventures (which I only want to share vicariously) and genius; they make me cry, love, think ... FEEL. There is nothing so satisfactory to a reader as the beauty of a phrase, a well thought out metaphor or simile, a snarky comment by the MC, a unique relationship, a surprising but satisfactory end, a story that touches the heart. And then becomes ... unforgettable. A classic.
I'm thankful for books - especially for the greatest Book of all, and its Author - and for writers who as such brilliant wordsmiths, share their gift with readers. Whether they're hurled out, gently placed, messy, suspenseful or delightfully funny, I love their words. I "see" the graphic pictures in my head and live vicariously, until the last page is turned, in the world of those characters.
I'm thankful for Courtney - who allows me to move her commas around, un-dangle her particples and unite her infinitives (which tumble from her super creative, genius brain in beautiful draft form) and even swap a word here and there. She let's me SHARE her writing process. Oh, how satisfactory it is - the joy, the fun, the creation of, the WRITING (I have the fun and she does all the hard work, I hasten to add), the inspiration of it all. And I'm thankful for a family who fosters my love for books. For my parents who always, always found money for books even when money was short everywhere else, and for Ron and Matt who are always ready to "talk books."
It's such a community. The one inside our heads. The ability to share what's tumbling around in there. The blessing of meeting other writers ... who UNDERSTAND, who "get it." I enjoy it so!
It seems very appropriate to post my tribute today. This afternoon the hubs and I will see The Hunger Games (we're too "old" to attend midnight premiers - we like to watch our movies, not "nap" through them). I'm excited in a very impatient, can't wait kind of way, but I want to SAY OUT LOUD: this is not just a movie. REMEMBER! The Hunger Games started Life as a book, a series of books. I can't help but think of Suzanne Collins - did she dream that one day the words she thought of and put on paper, words that conjured such graphic images for her readers, would end up on the big screen? I wonder how it felt to let her words go out of her heart and into the hands of actors and actresses for their interpretation (not to mention directors and all the general, digital geekiness that's involved in making a good movie). What if they didn't 'get it.' Must be scary, and at the same time, very wonderful.
But yes, scary.
The movie reviews are good. The writers I know, those who saw it last night, liked it, loved it, were awed by it. I'll probably feel that way, too. But my hat's off to you, Suzanne Collins! Thank you for creating Katniss and Peeta and Gale, all the characters (and yes, even Haymitch) and for allowing us to share their World!
Thank you, Authors, for sharing your incredible imagination; you inspire us, entertain us and make us feel.
Salute!
PS later that night - the movie version of The Hunger Games did not disappoint! We loved it!
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