Dear Jane,
 |
Oh my heart Jane....Oh my heart.
Holding all things tighter,
-Sara
Monday, April 29, 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
April 23, 2013
Dear Jane,
"There's a place I travel
when I want to roam, and
nobody knows it but me.
The roads don't go there
and the signs stay home,
and nobody knows it but me.
It's far, far away and
way, way afar, It's over
the moon and the sea
and wherever you're going
that's wherever you are.
And nobody knows it but
me."
-The long and winding road,
-Sara
Dear Jane,
 |
| Wind Rivers Fifty mile roam June 2012 |
"There's a place I travel
when I want to roam, and
nobody knows it but me.
The roads don't go there
and the signs stay home,
and nobody knows it but me.
It's far, far away and
way, way afar, It's over
the moon and the sea
and wherever you're going
that's wherever you are.
And nobody knows it but
me."
-The long and winding road,
-Sara
Monday, April 22, 2013
April 22, 2013
Dear Jane,
Dropped my sweet Sampson boy off at school this blustery morning and as I was rounding the bend back home again, the Universe seemed to pick me up, dust me off, gave me a pat on the tush and a wink for good measure and even music to accompany me on my "daytrip" (aren't all days nothing more than a series of "daytrips")?
Adler was born just past Midnight on October 21st 2005. It had been a stellar blue sky day....My older Two boys home from school enjoying UEA break. I hadn't been feeling well and remember laying in my bed with sunbeams streaming through the window warming the bed and the distinct sound of McKay and Sammy downstairs drinking life up as if through a bendy straw. As the day progressed, so did early labor and I found myself prepping for my Third c-section around Eleven P.M. I remember once hearing that women can live to be One hundred and Two and perhaps might not be able to recall their street address or even their own name....But, chances are, they can recount moment by moment the day their children were born. Isn't that fascinating Janey? Certainly, for me, that feels to be the case. At any rate, I was poked and prodded and prepared for surgery. I remember the white, freckled, ceiling tiles and the way the anesthesiologist's eye glasses reflected off the stethoscope that hung round his neck. But, what I remember the very most about that time where Heaven and Earth were one, was the song that hung heavy in the air as Adler was born. There had been music playing throughout the operation (as there had been for my Two older boys as well)and I had paid little, if no attention to the notes and lyrics. Yet, as they lifted Addy out of my body the song "Let it be" by the Beatles rose out of my womb right along with him. What comfort that song has always been to me...The words almost a prayer of sorts. Certainly true in that instance and even more so this morning as I made my way back home to my sleeping Addy boy.
"And when the night is cloudy
there is still a light that
shines on me...Shine until
tomorrow
let it be, let it be.
...There will be answers.
Let it be."
Thank you for being so
many of my answers,
-Sara
 |
| My Adler boy and me October 2005 |
Dear Jane,
Dropped my sweet Sampson boy off at school this blustery morning and as I was rounding the bend back home again, the Universe seemed to pick me up, dust me off, gave me a pat on the tush and a wink for good measure and even music to accompany me on my "daytrip" (aren't all days nothing more than a series of "daytrips")?
Adler was born just past Midnight on October 21st 2005. It had been a stellar blue sky day....My older Two boys home from school enjoying UEA break. I hadn't been feeling well and remember laying in my bed with sunbeams streaming through the window warming the bed and the distinct sound of McKay and Sammy downstairs drinking life up as if through a bendy straw. As the day progressed, so did early labor and I found myself prepping for my Third c-section around Eleven P.M. I remember once hearing that women can live to be One hundred and Two and perhaps might not be able to recall their street address or even their own name....But, chances are, they can recount moment by moment the day their children were born. Isn't that fascinating Janey? Certainly, for me, that feels to be the case. At any rate, I was poked and prodded and prepared for surgery. I remember the white, freckled, ceiling tiles and the way the anesthesiologist's eye glasses reflected off the stethoscope that hung round his neck. But, what I remember the very most about that time where Heaven and Earth were one, was the song that hung heavy in the air as Adler was born. There had been music playing throughout the operation (as there had been for my Two older boys as well)and I had paid little, if no attention to the notes and lyrics. Yet, as they lifted Addy out of my body the song "Let it be" by the Beatles rose out of my womb right along with him. What comfort that song has always been to me...The words almost a prayer of sorts. Certainly true in that instance and even more so this morning as I made my way back home to my sleeping Addy boy.
"And when the night is cloudy
there is still a light that
shines on me...Shine until
tomorrow
let it be, let it be.
...There will be answers.
Let it be."
Thank you for being so
many of my answers,
-Sara
Friday, April 19, 2013
April 19, 2013
Dear Jane,
Dear Jane,
 |
Midnight Hot cocoa picnic
Adler had a heaven sent day yesterday. No appetite however, despite a moms high Octane pleadings. I did, however, manage to woo him with rootbeer...which he drank as though he'd just crossed the Sahara. As the day made way for evening, Addy got terribly sick. He gnashed his teeth and moaned and looked at me with eyes that begged for answers. I sat on our couch with him....His head on my lap. Finally the sandman took pity on me and invited Addy to sit a spell with him. 
Whip cream mustache's aplenty,
-Sara
|
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
April 17, 2013
Dear Jane,
Do you remember reading in grade school Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? I feel like Alexander and I should get together and go bowling. It's been one bummer of a day.
Adler woke up sick and has remained so as the hours have ebbed forward. In and out of nausea and bouts of restless sleep most of the day. When he is awake, he spends a great deal of time trying to get comfortable. He lays down, he gets back up. He crouches like a turtle seeking shelter within his shell and then paces around like a caged tiger looking for answers hidden between the bars that hold him captive.
I woke up thinking about modes of transportation. Each vessel that came to mind seemed to have a "safety plan" attached. Airplanes have Emergency Exits and floatation cushions...even extra oxygen should the need arise. Cars have seat belts and airbags, boats play the "inception" card by having a boat placed within what? yep, another boat. But, this motherhood mode, has no "safety plan" attached. No harness to keep you safely secured, no motion discomfort bag placed in the seat back in-front of you. There's no pamphlet dotted with illustrations outlining what to do should your Seven year old develop a bad case of cancer at cruising altitude.
I just feel so very underwhelmed with this lack luster pit stop Janey. Like at the beginning of this trip I was provided a well creased road-map. It fit perfectly into my luggage and each time I glanced at it...There was a certainty that seemed to be found within the creases themselves. Now, though, as I carefully unfold the map....I realize it's in Portuguese and unfortunately, in the coin-toss, French won out at Jr.High registration....And, that's really only because I thought I would look cute in a beret. (Note to readers...There are NO berets in French class).
Sweet Jane, I must sign off for now. Soon the bedtime rigamarole will begin. As I have been writing though, Adler seems to have emerged from his turtle shell for a bit. He's been chatting with his brothers and even requested and then drank some rootbeer. Soon, I will lay next to him and play with his lessening hair, tickle his back and maybe even throw in a bedtime book....Let's hope for his sake(and mine)that it's not in Portuguese.
Je t'aime tellement,
-Sara
 |
| Chemo Day: Tuesday April 16th |
Dear Jane,
Do you remember reading in grade school Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? I feel like Alexander and I should get together and go bowling. It's been one bummer of a day.
Adler woke up sick and has remained so as the hours have ebbed forward. In and out of nausea and bouts of restless sleep most of the day. When he is awake, he spends a great deal of time trying to get comfortable. He lays down, he gets back up. He crouches like a turtle seeking shelter within his shell and then paces around like a caged tiger looking for answers hidden between the bars that hold him captive.
I woke up thinking about modes of transportation. Each vessel that came to mind seemed to have a "safety plan" attached. Airplanes have Emergency Exits and floatation cushions...even extra oxygen should the need arise. Cars have seat belts and airbags, boats play the "inception" card by having a boat placed within what? yep, another boat. But, this motherhood mode, has no "safety plan" attached. No harness to keep you safely secured, no motion discomfort bag placed in the seat back in-front of you. There's no pamphlet dotted with illustrations outlining what to do should your Seven year old develop a bad case of cancer at cruising altitude.
I just feel so very underwhelmed with this lack luster pit stop Janey. Like at the beginning of this trip I was provided a well creased road-map. It fit perfectly into my luggage and each time I glanced at it...There was a certainty that seemed to be found within the creases themselves. Now, though, as I carefully unfold the map....I realize it's in Portuguese and unfortunately, in the coin-toss, French won out at Jr.High registration....And, that's really only because I thought I would look cute in a beret. (Note to readers...There are NO berets in French class).
Sweet Jane, I must sign off for now. Soon the bedtime rigamarole will begin. As I have been writing though, Adler seems to have emerged from his turtle shell for a bit. He's been chatting with his brothers and even requested and then drank some rootbeer. Soon, I will lay next to him and play with his lessening hair, tickle his back and maybe even throw in a bedtime book....Let's hope for his sake(and mine)that it's not in Portuguese.
Je t'aime tellement,
-Sara
Monday, April 15, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
April 14,2013
Dear Jane,
Several days ago Addy and I went for a walk. He's had a relatively gentle week as we've had a welcome reprieve from medicine/drugs of any kind. And, for the most part, Addy has felt well. We were quietly walking side by side when Adler stopped, looked up and groaned a heavily weighted groan. I said "Addy let's turn around...I don't want you to "over-do" it." He simply shook his head with a "no" attached. We continued forward. After quite some time, Addy looked up at me and said..."If I keep looking at my feet I could walk forever." I was instantly struck by his honest wisdom. Indeed, when we set our "sights" on the persistent questions of tomorrow, we fail to "see" the protruding answers of today.
"And I took the one less
traveled by...and that has
made all the difference."
Forever and a day,
-Sara
 |
| First day of chemotherapy |
Dear Jane,
Several days ago Addy and I went for a walk. He's had a relatively gentle week as we've had a welcome reprieve from medicine/drugs of any kind. And, for the most part, Addy has felt well. We were quietly walking side by side when Adler stopped, looked up and groaned a heavily weighted groan. I said "Addy let's turn around...I don't want you to "over-do" it." He simply shook his head with a "no" attached. We continued forward. After quite some time, Addy looked up at me and said..."If I keep looking at my feet I could walk forever." I was instantly struck by his honest wisdom. Indeed, when we set our "sights" on the persistent questions of tomorrow, we fail to "see" the protruding answers of today.
"And I took the one less
traveled by...and that has
made all the difference."
Forever and a day,
-Sara
Thursday, April 11, 2013
April 11, 2013
Dear Janey,
It's a cozy afternoon here at the brown house with the green front door. Overcast skies looking over my shoulder all day tempting me to nestle deep into my bed with a book and some kind of overindulgent smackerel.
It's been a a good week so far. On Tuesday, we headed in for our regularly scheduled Chemotherapy appt. Oh how Adler doth protests Tuesdays. Poor boy spends most of his week doing the anxiety "cha cha" as the days come and go...The ticking of the clock, his greatest foe. We made it to the appt. The routine is typically the same each week. We scrub up, enter the "clinic," Addy gets weighed and measured and the kind nurse assigns us a room number. We settle in and wait for our "regular" nurse to check in with us (she is a dearheart and was diagnosed almost the same day as Adler with breast cancer...So, the Two of them have become fast friends. It's been a tender mercy indeed). Our nurse access's Addys "power port" (a surgically placed device in Addys upper chest region that lays under the skin. The port allows quick access to draw blood and is where the Chemotherapy is administered). The power port is a mixed blessing (mixed for Addy and blessing for Jamie and I...No searching and searching for a vein for an I.V. etc...). They provide us with numbing cream that we are to apply One hour before arriving at the Hospital...But, still, there is a "poke" involved and Adler has long since caught onto this knowledge. Anyway, as soon as the port is accessed, they draw several vials of blood and immediately send them off to the lab to be processed. As the blood is off on its adventure, we wait. And wait. And, resort to all manner of boredom prevention techniques. Once the blood has had its fill of fun, the lab sends the results back to our Oncologist (Dr. Wright) and she reviews them with us. Sadly, this week, Adlers bloodcounts/levels were too low to administer any Chemotherapy. A happy/sad/worried dilemma. As a mom you begin to think thoughts like..."How sick must you be to not be "treatable?" Your mind begins to play dark tricks on you as you overthink everything and then, for good measure, you overthink them again. This weeks Chemo session was set to be the roughest regimen yet and Dr. Wright just didn't feel it safe to move forward until Adlers counts are more stable. So, we made a new plan, grabbed a red Otter Pop and headed back home. Still not sure if I feel relieved or concerned....Maybe both. Recerned. Yes, that's it. I feel recerned.
On a tender note, I was putting away laundry earlier today in Adlers room. At the side of his dresser, Addy keeps a blue "Nanny tote" (Nanny is what my boys call my mom...Well technically, Nanny Goat if using her surname). Addy calls it his "nanny tote" because in the beginning of the totes life, it held only treasures that his Nanny gave him. Now that the tote is a teenager, it has evolved and carries all sorts of other treasures. I see the tote daily. But, today, I took out each item and examined them. As I looked at each trinket, I felt such a surge of childhood beauty...and the resilience found therein. Realized upon further thought, that everything Adler holds most dear in life, (aside from family and friends) can fit into a small plastic tote that can fit into the space between his wall and his dresser. And, what a beautiful reminder to me, that PERSPECTIVE is.....everything.
Nanny Goat loves to you,
-Sara
Dear Janey,
It's a cozy afternoon here at the brown house with the green front door. Overcast skies looking over my shoulder all day tempting me to nestle deep into my bed with a book and some kind of overindulgent smackerel.
It's been a a good week so far. On Tuesday, we headed in for our regularly scheduled Chemotherapy appt. Oh how Adler doth protests Tuesdays. Poor boy spends most of his week doing the anxiety "cha cha" as the days come and go...The ticking of the clock, his greatest foe. We made it to the appt. The routine is typically the same each week. We scrub up, enter the "clinic," Addy gets weighed and measured and the kind nurse assigns us a room number. We settle in and wait for our "regular" nurse to check in with us (she is a dearheart and was diagnosed almost the same day as Adler with breast cancer...So, the Two of them have become fast friends. It's been a tender mercy indeed). Our nurse access's Addys "power port" (a surgically placed device in Addys upper chest region that lays under the skin. The port allows quick access to draw blood and is where the Chemotherapy is administered). The power port is a mixed blessing (mixed for Addy and blessing for Jamie and I...No searching and searching for a vein for an I.V. etc...). They provide us with numbing cream that we are to apply One hour before arriving at the Hospital...But, still, there is a "poke" involved and Adler has long since caught onto this knowledge. Anyway, as soon as the port is accessed, they draw several vials of blood and immediately send them off to the lab to be processed. As the blood is off on its adventure, we wait. And wait. And, resort to all manner of boredom prevention techniques. Once the blood has had its fill of fun, the lab sends the results back to our Oncologist (Dr. Wright) and she reviews them with us. Sadly, this week, Adlers bloodcounts/levels were too low to administer any Chemotherapy. A happy/sad/worried dilemma. As a mom you begin to think thoughts like..."How sick must you be to not be "treatable?" Your mind begins to play dark tricks on you as you overthink everything and then, for good measure, you overthink them again. This weeks Chemo session was set to be the roughest regimen yet and Dr. Wright just didn't feel it safe to move forward until Adlers counts are more stable. So, we made a new plan, grabbed a red Otter Pop and headed back home. Still not sure if I feel relieved or concerned....Maybe both. Recerned. Yes, that's it. I feel recerned.
On a tender note, I was putting away laundry earlier today in Adlers room. At the side of his dresser, Addy keeps a blue "Nanny tote" (Nanny is what my boys call my mom...Well technically, Nanny Goat if using her surname). Addy calls it his "nanny tote" because in the beginning of the totes life, it held only treasures that his Nanny gave him. Now that the tote is a teenager, it has evolved and carries all sorts of other treasures. I see the tote daily. But, today, I took out each item and examined them. As I looked at each trinket, I felt such a surge of childhood beauty...and the resilience found therein. Realized upon further thought, that everything Adler holds most dear in life, (aside from family and friends) can fit into a small plastic tote that can fit into the space between his wall and his dresser. And, what a beautiful reminder to me, that PERSPECTIVE is.....everything.
Nanny Goat loves to you,
-Sara
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
April 10, 2013
Dear Jane,
Last evening my Sixteen year old son called me into his bedroom to show me a "video gift" he had made for his little brother. I stood over his shoulder watching. It felt like an "out of body" experience watching Addys story unfold from his older brothers vantage point. Sam, Adler and Ollie sat perched on the lower bunk bed next to me. As the last image on the video faded away....All Five of us just sat. Sat silently. It is a moment in time I will never forget as long as I live....and, I suspect, long after that as well.
Here's to fixing and fixing
and fixing some more.
Forevermore,
-Sara
Dear Jane,
Last evening my Sixteen year old son called me into his bedroom to show me a "video gift" he had made for his little brother. I stood over his shoulder watching. It felt like an "out of body" experience watching Addys story unfold from his older brothers vantage point. Sam, Adler and Ollie sat perched on the lower bunk bed next to me. As the last image on the video faded away....All Five of us just sat. Sat silently. It is a moment in time I will never forget as long as I live....and, I suspect, long after that as well.
Here's to fixing and fixing
and fixing some more.
Forevermore,
-Sara
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Let's Fix Adler Video
Published on Apr 9, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Dear Jane,
Passed by "lilac lane" this morning.....noticed how pregnant with life those Thousands and Thousands of buds seem to be...So ripe with new life that it's impossible to view the newness as anything but a true miracle. I have found myself devoting a large sum of time in these last weeks aiming to gather armfuls of "miracle evidence" as a means of reminding and renewing my fundamental belief that the Universe is infinitely kind.
A few days ago, our family drove a stretch of road that had been ransacked by a wildfire. (don't you think the word "wildfire" is a bit of an oxi-moron? Isn't a fire "wild" simply by birthright)? Ironically, the wildfire that caused such catastrophic devastation began as a "controlled burn." The man/woman who initially laid spark to earth, had no way of knowing...of predicting, the eventuality of their actions. Made me think of my life...how sometimes "lifewind" can sweep in so abrubtly, so unexpectedly...sending soot and ash high into the air only to fall back to earth to ignite even the greenest of landscapes. In many ways, my current circumstance, feels like a "controlled burn" gone awry. Like my best laid plans and well meaning intentions, grabbed onto the appeal of rebellious flames that refused to be proven wrong.
My family is struggling Janey. Each of us desperate to find our "land legs" once more after a long month out at sea. Each action I take, each word I exhale is subsequently followed by an endless barrage of internal questions. Questions about...each of my boys, (are "needs" being met? Are important conversations taking place? Are meaningful exchanges carrying each boy forward in a way that serves each individual personality best)?, about my marriage (see above list of questions), about my perspective, about faith, about finances, about my mental state, about forgiveness, about my ability to "believe with all my heart that I will do what I was sent here to do."
Nothing can make a soul wearier than wandering in search of un-answerable questions...so for now, for today, I'm going to sit for a good, long, while. I did notice Jane, as we passed by the scorched span of earth...patches of green emerging. Black, ash laden, soil still somehow providing nourishment to sustain new life. It appears to me, that even wildfires ultimately have a grand design in mind..."controlled burn" or not.
"Birds are singing sweet
and low....from the trees
that gently grow."
-That we might grow gently,
-Sara
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Monday, April 1, 2013
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