Indeed, it is a stellar Easter morning. Blue skies as far as the eye can see and so much hope imbedded in that blue, you can scarcely stand to look anywhere else.
We had such a tender morning. Woke up and began the familiar routine of getting ready for church. Addy and I haven't been in a month now. It felt wonderful to have a reason to blow dry my hair and choose an outfit with intention instead of considering practicality. Oh Jane how wonderful it was to walk into church and see the faces of those I hold so dearly...of those who have held me so dearly. In so many ways it felt "normal" (whatever that means). So familiar....Like "comfort food" but, for my soul. It was a beautiful program...all music with a bit of "narration" punctuating throughout. There is something so nourishingly healing about music.There was one hauntingly lovely string of words that I am certain I have sung/heard hundreds of times in my lifetime and yet, it rose up to greet me today in such a powerful way. It's the last line of a hymn: "And try his works to do." I am certain when penning the hymn, the composer was referring to the Savior. Gently nudging and reminding us to "try" to emulate the Saviors life.And, yet, today I heard it with fresh ears. "And, Sara, try your best to do THIS work. This work that I have placed carefully before you." I struggle in general with the word "try" (well, at least I'm in good company with Yoda). I think, the word "try" stunts growth in a way. Maybe even stalls it. It holds hands with the word:stagnation. However, sitting there on that pew...what great comfort I found in the word "try." As if I was being given permission to simply do the very best I am capable of doing in any given instant. To allow myself to "try" to grasp an understanding of what the distortedscenery that has recently found its way to me might eventually gift me. And, for now, on this blue sky morning, there is great healing as I set about "trying this work to do."
Read a quote many months ago: "The teacher you need the most is the person you are living with." Initially, my instinct was to apply this to my marriage. Tonight, as I unfurled from the days events, part of which included taking my hair out of "princess Leia" buns and brushing out the crooked strands...I paused to look at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. And, wouldn't you know it?....There she was. The "teacher I need the most."
It's a surprisingly quiet afternoon here at the brown house with the green front door. I've got a pot of eggs boiling on the stove even as I type....Eager anticipation hangs in the air in shades of sunshine yellow and periwinkle blue...those colors no doubt leaving their lasting mark on fingertips and our tabletop.
It's been exactly Three weeks since Adlers surgery. An eternity some moments and a mere matter of minutes in others. He's doing well for the most part. He wakes up full of eager anticipation and slowly fades as the sun makes her way across the sky. He's lost weight...Five lbs. to be exact. He's down to Forty Nine lbs. His spine protrudes like that of an old man...As do his kneecaps and collarbone. Yesterday he woke up with that delicious anticipation...We were to drop off Ollie at Preschool at Noon. I asked Adler if he'd run to the grocery store with me and he was happy to be my shadow especially since he'd been craving cream soda and so we'd worked that into the equation. We dropped Oliver Tolliver off and made our way to the store...Only made it maybe a Hundred feet into the store before the nausea became too much and my Addy boy threw up.Fortunately for the both of us, my purse has become somewhat of a pharmacy and I had tucked a few "throw up bags" into one of the side pockets. Had one of those "out of body" moments where time slows almost to a hault and you find yourself asking "how exactly did I arrive to be at this destination?" We gathered ourselves together and made it home only to continue the same pattern throughout the afternoon. And, then, out of the blue, Addy sat up on the couch and asked to go to the park by our home. What? It was such a beautiful afternoon that I had cracked the windows open in our home to let "newness" in. I suspect Adler could hear the neighborhood children lapping up the afternoon and he wanted to do some lapping himself. He begged to ride his Birthday bike. I wavered and worried then decided to let the boy "lap." We made it to the park and found a sun soaked bench just waiting for us. I sat down and turned to Addy to help him wrangle his bicycle helmet off. As I lifted off his helmet the wind and the sun combined in such a way that I watched as my sons long, beautiful, hair was whisked away like pieces of dandelion fluff.Oh my heart Janey. It wasn't a lot of hair...But enough to make my heart race and a lump form in my throat. It's only our Second round of Chemo and I had so hoped to postpone the inevitable. Like somehow my "mother medicine" would out-wit the chemo-medicine. Sweet Jane, it's a tug of war I fear I will lose. Addy and Ollie played for a few minutes before the sun edged further across the sky and soon I found Addy at my side with his hand resting on my leg. We didn't say a word and yet a whole conversation took place right there on that sun soaked bench. And so it goes. Well, my friend, the eggs are a waitin' begging for their moment to shine. Aren't we all?