The Black Cashmere Sweater Vacation

I had a black chasmere sweater vacation. On Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.

We do this get away yearly. The "girls" in my family get away for a weekend or a week to be with each other, catch up on things, reminisce, and just do girl things together.

This year we, everyone- all eight of us, plus two resident aunts- were going to spend a whole week on Hilton Head Island just basking in the sun after a long, cold winter. (I was not actually going to bask, since I've had all the radiating rays that I can have for a lifetime but seeing the sun sounded good to me)

We left earlier than anticipated from the north country, hence I still had my black cashmere sweater on that I had worn to the freezing cold and rainy graduation of my neice from nursing school. Thank goodness! I had been packed for weeks, my suitcase FULL of shorts, bathing suits and cover ups and sandals. No warm clothes.

I wore my black cashmere sweater everyday.

I was freezing and needed warm clothes, not the sleeveless shirts that I had hoped to wear. It rained and was cold everyday. Even the locals seemed to be getting depressed. And for all the years that I have been going to Hilton Head, I have never seen it rain more than one day, then the beautiful sun would break through in all its glory.

But this was what we got and we had fun anyway. Some had pedicures done, we went to the movies, we played games; speed scrabble, canasta and uker, we went to the outlets and TJ Maxx, we put on swim suits and swam in the indoor pool and relaxed in the hot tub, we fixed food, we bowled, (no one reached even close to 100), we went out to eat at a great sea food restaurant, visited with local aunts and friends, and best of all we were introduced to the newest member of our "girls club", Adeyln, my neice's new daughter.

We had devotions with each other in the morning and shared concerns and issues and prayed with and for each other. And at the end of our time together we all said it was a great time, we enjoyed just being together and my neice commented that it was one of the best family vacations.

We had fun, we smiled, we laughed, and we have survived our many wounds.

How could that be? How could that be that we can still gather, and laugh and sing and have fun?

The secret to survival, I believe, is in the roots.

We have roots and they have gone deep. Down, always reaching down, like that tree that is planted by the rivers of water. We've lost mother, sister, aunt, husband, son and brother recently, not to mention the moving on of our older parents.

Our spirits and souls grow deep in God. Our strength, our healing, our health, our very survival, not to mention whether some in our group are aging successfully, is dependent on the depth and nourishment of our souls in God's soil. If we have roots deep in God then circumstances, loses, disappointments, trials and sicknesses may try to break us off, they may be able to maim and wound us temorarily, but they will not be able to destroy us.

And I see at the very place that we have been broken off and left to die a sprout is growing and we grow tall and strong again. Together.

Chartreuse

I love this time of year here in the north country.

It is so full of energy and potential.

On the drive to camp yesterday the skies were filled with chartreuse. New budding growth on the trees. Almost leaves, but not quite. A blanket of brilliant yellow green spanning upward to the skies, providing a lattice through which to view the clear blue sky.

The water on the lake was calm. No boats, only a pair of mallard duck quietly paddling near the cove. The canadian geese are back, but in hiding, warming their future offspring. Soon there will be lines of families silently traversing the lake.

And at home, while washing the dinner dishes, I see a tiny baby bunny outside my kitchen window. He looks so vulnerable. All alone in my side yard eating the dandelions without a care. Doesn't he know that two big dogs live inside and neighborhood cats roam freely? I don't think he is fast enough yet to escape these predators. My cardinals are back and come for their dinner everyday at 5:00pm and the goldfinches swarm the backyard feeder.

The hostas, strong and constantly expanding, have made a full recovery after the harsh winter. And the peonies and liliacs are budded and ready to intoxicate us with their heady blooms. Pink and white crabapples and apple trees are also waiting their turn. The bowing foliage and blossoms of the bleeding hearts are swaying gracefully in the breezes and the salwart little muscari are still standing tall after emerging first from the frosty ground.

We've waited a long time up here in our northern most region. And we are being regally rewarded.

A Tea Party

I went to a tea party today but not the kind where flowers, cakes and china cups are the main bill of fare.





This was a tea party in our own small little village of three thousand people protesting, mainly, the intervention of big government into every little aspect of our lives. We don't like the huge tax bill that we will be saddled with either.

Yes, in this very liberal little village there were a hundred or more of us who said, "no more of this" and we used our right as US citizens to protest. Liz, and Grady and I walked down to the village green to support our local protesters. We shared signs and signed petitions and generally had a good time with fellow peaceful protesters. But the big surprise was that many, many cars and trucks blew their horns in our support. It was mid day and there was a lot of traffic.

I think there may be more of us then they think!

Goodbyes

I said my goodbyes today.

At the hospital and at the lodge.

It was bittersweet. I have met so many incredible people, Gerard and Joanie, who have ministered to me each day with encouragement, smiles, while strapping me down and operating that great machine. According to them I did fabulous every time. (And I was on time which they also loved.) And some friends that I have spent time with while we were waiting for our treatments, Margot, 35 years old mother of three who is the cutest bald headed person I've ever seen, Bob, retired, Bay Ridge resident, and Ashley, 17 years old whose birthday is tomorrow and has the grace, charm and courage of a woman many years older. Our Russian friend left last week and our doctor friend finished last Tuesday.

My Lodge family is hard to leave. Isn't that strange? When we first came no one knew who was the guest and who was the caregiver. It's very obvious now. We visit Thad in the hospital, after my treatment, say goodbye and pray for him. He's cheerful but had a very hard time since his stem cell harvesting. Frank and Elise are heading back to North Carolina with their two sons at the wheel and Al and Paula are home now too. Jeff, from Glens Falls will remain until the middle of May. We promise to keep in touch through email. And we plan a reunion for sometime next year in North Carolina.

It's been a journey, that's for sure. I'm coming home with some battle scars that will slowly heal and be a distant memory. But I'm taking with me a continued assurance of God's love and his goodness, his never ending commitment to the good in my life, and a new set of friends that will be in my prayers and intercession as I resume my daily mornings with my Father.

New York City Dogs

We've seen the craziest things here in NYC on the way to 68th and York each day.

1. Dog strollers- yes, dogs being walked in strollers, not with leashes on their own four feet.

2. Dog walkers- they actually do not walk the dogs but stand on the sidewalk, leaning against the buildings, with seven or eight dogs who just sit and watch the people stream by.

3. Dog chauffeurs- yes, there are actual cars which exclusively transport your dog from place to place.

4. An immaculately groomed, pristine, white poodle with the most gorgeous soft supple tan leather boots that any person would be jealous to own.

Poster Child

I'm not boasting. Really.

But, I think I may be the new poster child for radiation.

The man in charge of directing this journey met with me this afternoon in his office. He could not believe how in tact my skin is at this particular part of the journey.

And that I was still swallowing without difficulty, unheard of. He was so pleased and surprised.

He should not be, he is one of His people, chosen and called out. A people who know about power and miracles, promises and fulfillment, a Father's love and tender care of His children.

But I know the one who is really directing this journey and He has everything under control. He is giving wisdom to the doctor. He is giving technical expertise to the technician. (every day I heard how "beautiful and wonderful" i do with each session).

And I can sense the support of those who have invested their time interceding for me and for my success. The side effects are minimal and some have appeared due to my own carelessness. I should know how important hydration is to the success of physical function.

However, I may have to employ Carina, to help Him out in the hair department, if we continue at the current pace. It may be one funky hairstyle at the end, but who knows.........maybe this will be the start of something new!

The Ninth Floor

We've become family here on the ninth floor.

Kay folds Bob's clothes that he has started in the morning, someone put them in the dryer, and she folds them into nice neat piles. He makes his meals, and puts most of his food away, but we do the rest, which he does not see. His wife Marsha is in the hospital now. He is very concerned. He is distracted. She has had intractable pain and had to go in to have an operation to stabilize the spine. And he hopes she will be able to resume her chemo and radiation. He loves her dearly and is a tremendous caregiver.

Marius and Monica left today. They were here for six months from St Croix. They were happy to go home. We hear them laughing in their room at night. It is good. He did well, and is always cheerful and encouraging to all.

Thad and Martha are here from Cape Cod. They are harvesting his stem cells and will give chemo. It was sudden. They thought he was having a stroke, but no, it was this. She is motherly and he is bald now and friendly. They tell about the bus route, the organic lunch place, interesting museums, good restaurants if you feel up to going out. They hear about Redeemer and they go. They will go again when they can. They have been here two months and expect to leave a month after I do.

Nate is here by himself. His young wife and daughter are in California. She can not come, she has to take care of their daughter. He has been here four times. He comes into the kitchen while we are all eating dinner and gets his Campbell's soup out of his cabinet to microwave. I say, "Nate, would you like to share our chicken?" Hesitantly, he accepts and then receives the green beans we send over. There's no one here to cook for him, and he is young, we share. He has been on other floors and knows others from previous visits. He feels comfortable with them.

Elize and Frank are across the hall. Frank is here for chemo and radiation. But after a week he has had a crisis. While leaving after a treatment, to get a cab he has a seizure. He is bleeding. It is an emergency. Back to urgent care and lines inserted and blood, hand pumped, as fast as it can go. "Call your children, this doesn't look good". Frank survives and is in ICU for days and today he will get very intricate surgery. We see the hand of God in this that they were not in the taxi when the bleed occurred. We have dinner with Elize and she recognizes that God has them here where world class doctors and nurses have saved his life and that He did not allow them to get in the taxi. We pray with her as we all leave, that God would strengthen Frank, give the surgeons great technical ability, that Elize would have peace and that Frank would again come back to the ninth floor.

Judy and Diane have joined the family recently. And Jeff and his sister came yesterday. We all meet in the kitchen in the morning and evening. Everyone checks in with each other. "How was your treatment today?" "Are you doing okay?" "Do you have any side effects?" "Has anyone seen Bob today?" "Elize, how is Frank today?" Sometimes we wear masks and gloves. Sometimes we wear wigs, or turbans, or hats. We exchange DVD's, offer each other ice cream, talk about how fantastic our accommodations are, how kind the staff is, exchange information that we have learned on line and are thankful for the doctors that we are involved with.

It comes quickly here. The sense of family. We say, here, here, no one is an atheist. Everyone believes in hope and the future. For ourselves and for each other.