My Little Prince

I can't believe it has been  just over 8 weeks since my grandson was born.  He is such a little angel on earth..  He is now at the age where he is just starting to smile and coo and I just can't get enough of watching him.  His sisters dote on him, his grandpa in absolutely enthralled with him and I can't believe how tiny he is!  He weighs just a few pounds more than his father did when he was born.  I look at him and wonder just where time goes.  It seems like just yesterday I was holding his father, my first born.

He is the first male born in almost 24 years.  My youngest son was the last one on both sides of the family.  The twins are never far from my mind.  As I watch the middle granddaughter, I can't help but wonder what they would be like...their personality, looks. 

I feel so blessed to have these gifts , these grandchildren.  I so look forward to sleep overs, and riding bikes and going on trips and hikes with all my grandchildren.  What more can I ask for?

15 more chances...

I don't about you, but I remember when Cheetos's had a nacho cheese flavor.  I was addicted to those things.  I was in the throes of a wicked bout of chemo and rarely had much of an appetite, but oh, those Cheetos were the best.  Absolutely no nutritional value,but I really didn't care.  The last time I had them was Mother's Day 1997. I remember that day like yesterday.  It was a beautiful day.  We spent the morning at church, then just drove around and had a relaxing day.  I remember that I had to protect my skin from the sun because of all the medications I was taking to protect my organs from the chemo treatments.

I had no idea where the bruises and tiny red dots that covered my body had come from.  When I called the nurse to report the strange sight, she immediately directed me to the hospital to receive a platelet transfusion.  My body had stopped making them.  I remember craving the Cheetos!  I told the boys that I would be going to the hospital and would be back in a couple of hours. It was 6:00 p.m. No worries. While I got settled into my room and prepped to get the platelets, Andrew went to get my Cheetos. 

I don't remember many details of what happened next, but I do remember this: the odd sensation of not being able to take a full breath.  Of barely being able to stand, but catching a glimpse of my swollen face in the mirror as I stumbled to the hospital bed.  Of collapsing, yet still being conscious but not having control of my body.  I remember the sea of faces as the code was called.  The nurse jamming a needle into my arm and saying "stay with us now, it's ok, we are giving you something to help".  The doctor with a crash cart...I remember the thoughts running through my mind...that I would die on Mothers Day.  That I told my boys I would be back home. That my husband was sitting at the foot of my bed and was going to witness this. I remember those things, I remember thinking that I hope he and the boys knew how much I loved them.

When I woke up, it was dark in the room.  My husband was resting his head at the foot of the bed.  I thought, oh my goodness I died and he is distraught.  I actually pinched myself (very hard I might add), to make sure that I was indeed alive.  It was 2:30 a.m. I called for the nurse and asked to be discharged.  She tried to talk me out of it, but I was insistent.  I wanted to hug my boys.  I wanted to sleep in my bed next to my husband.  I wanted to eat my Cheetoes!!

Ironically, in my haste to leave the hospital I left the Cheetoes!!  Really!   Oh but I gained so much more.  Though just weeks later I would be told that there was nothing more that could be done to stop the rapid spread of the cancer, and then learning I could participate in a study...I was given a chance that has turned into 15 more.   I have been give 15 years of life.  15 more birthdays.  15 more anniversaries. 15 more chances to be completely awed by my sons.  2 chances to see my children graduate.  3 chances to see my grandchildren's births, and the chance to anxiously await the birth of the 5th.  2 chances to say goodbyes to my grandmothers.  15 more chances to honor my mother and father.  I have been so blessed that it is almost surreal. 

I know who was in charge that night.  God had his hand on me.  I still don't know why, but I don't ever want to take for granted what He did for me then and continues to do for me now.   I pray that God will give many, many more years to serve Him and enjoy this life that has been gifted to me. I am blessed beyond measure, and one day, just one day...Frito Lay will make nacho cheese flavored Cheetoes.

School is in session!

I started school (again) a few weeks ago.  I have been working on completing my Bachelor's degree for many years.  The time is finally right now.  The kids are grown and out of the house, and though there are now grandchildren there is really no reason not to be able to focus and .  I enrolled in an accelerated program so I can hurry up and be done.  Our professor made sure to let us know that it is accelerated, not abbreviated.  That is the truth.  The homework seems benign at first, then BAM, it's crazy!  I have to remember, I am paying for no less than an A grade.  Many sacrifices will take place over the next 3 years. 

We have learning teams and we are tasked with working together to teach a class together.  I will be honest and say that I was very apprehensive about working in a team.  I am from the old school, we didn't work on teams.  Our effort was OUR effort, not contingent on anyone else.  My team consists of 2 other classmates.  So far so good, they are nice, and smart! We are going to be fine.  It's not like attending traditional classes when you are sharing the class with 18 year olds who are there because their parents made them go.  My fellow classmates are there because they WANT to be there.  They are paying for this and want to learn, apply and move on. 

Three years are going to come and go.  When those three years are up, I will be a little bit book smarter and will be able to say that I have achieved my goal!

Today marks the 2 years since our grandchildren Tiana & Drew III were born and died.  I think about them EVERYDAY. I wonder what they would look like.  What kind of personality they would have.  Would they have that secret twin language?  Who would be the Grammy's boy or girl or the Grampy's girl or boy?  My mind just doesn't turn off.  I can't stop thinking about the what if's and possibilities. 

Since then we have been blessed with another beautiful granddaughter, Tatiyana.  She is such an angel and it is so fun to watch her with her big sister Kamiyah.  Soon there will be another addition to the family, as in May 2012 (hopefully on my birthday!) My son and his wife will welcome another bundle of joy to the world.

Nothing can take away the pain of losing the twins.  No future grandchildren can ever replace them regardless of the fact that the they were only here for a blink of an eye.  They were here.  Then they were gone.  Gone to be with our Heavenly Father.  To occupy heaven until we all meet them there one day. They will never be forgotten. 

Now where did I put that...?

Here we are!  Another Holiday season.  Sad to say, I am not remotely close to having decorations up.  It is now 4 days into December...last Thanksgiving I couldn't wait to get the tree and decorations up...Now here I am, almost 2 weeks after and still no tree. 

This year will be a Louisa Mae Alcott Christmas... remember in Little Women when they made gifts for each other?  Yes, that is me.  Most people are getting handcrafted gifts that I hope they will find meaningful.  There is just this one thing I didn't really take into account when I had this bright idea one week prior to Thanksgiving...TIME!  When one ventures into the land of 'DIY' Christmas, it is really best to do so at least 6 months in advance.  There is the shopping, prepping, planning, cutting out of patterns, frequent trips to the craft or fabric store for things you swear you have at home (and you do, just can't find them...).  I keep asking myself what I was thinking...where I am going to find the time to complete these projects? Well, one thing I do know about myself is that I work well under pressure, back against the wall.  I do some of my best work under those conditions.  I think some people have another name for it.  I think it's called procrastination! Now off to make those gifts...as soon as I find that one thing....

Float, float on, float on, float on...

Okay here we are. A little more than a year ago, I was terrified of the water.  I could not take the water any higher than about my shoulders, and that was pushing it.  Forget my feet not being able to touch the bottom of the pool!  Finally at 41, after over 32 years of paralyzing fear of the water I signed up for swim lessons. I did OK, felt comfortable enough to put my head under water and use the kick board.  It was a major accomplishment.  I finished up and felt satisfied that I had made progress. But I couldn't give up the kick board.

So, fast forward to May of this year.  We were on vacation and we went to the pool every night.  It was so fun! The mister would hold my hands while I floated, I would put my head under the water...things I NEVER would have done before, except when I went to the Caribbean...  and that was because I could stand, bend over and breathe with the snorkel mask!  What really did it for me was watching our friends have so much fun swimming.  We started lessons at the same time, but in different classes.  I remember watching them while I would be in the aqua aerobic class and thinking "wow, they are SO brave! They're swimming"!!  It just seemed so..magical.  I remember thinking that I survived cancer and a transplant...surely I could conquer this water fear...yet I still just didn't trust that water.

So fast forward to a few weeks ago. I signed up for lessons again. I feel much more comfortable.  The first few classes I just  couldn't let go of the kick board.  Then I remembered what my friend Al told me.  She said she had to learn to relax her whole body, let go of the tension and just let the water hold her up.  It seemed so foreign at the time...I just couldn't trust that the water was going to hold me up! Guess what?  It does!  It's true! It worked!  I relaxed, and what do you know.  I floated.  I relaxed, and I was able to stroke, I relaxed and added the kicks.  I finally was swimming! With absolutely NO FEAR.  I finally trusted the water and let it do what it does. I still have a lot to learn but I look forward to the challenges.

This experience has been very cathartic for me, and what I realized is that it really a metaphor for my life outside the pool.  I get myself very tense, won't let go of things (worry) and find it hard to 'float'.  I forget that I can 'float' when I just trust God , when I just relax, let go and recognize that I can't control everything on my own, that God has my back and will always hold me up, even give me a kick board to hold to if I need it!   Even when I get water in my nose, even when I swallow water, even when I started to tense up and sink.  So, relax, lighten up and let yourself FLOAT!

Climbing Victory Mountain!

OK, it was more like a hill...whatever! More specifically,we were at Pacific City at Cape Kiwanda. My  Fearless BFF, she is our official vacation planner, thought it would be fun to climb this sand hill.  The picture is really not doing it justice because I swear it's a vertical wall of sand. When I saw it I thought to myself "she is freaking crazy, and will never plan another trip for us!!" 

There were 6 of us.  BFF and her husband, Fearless BFF and her husband, me and The Mister.  It wasn't a sunny day, but there was no rain and minimum wind.  Really can't ask for more at the Oregon Coast. Frankly, sun would have been my enemy because thqt hill was intense and the last thing I needed was warmth and sun!

So after FBFF got the Suburban stuck in the sand, then parking it in an area that we weren't supposed to (a friendly local lady was simultaneously giving us a warning about parking where we did- apparently we didn't have a boat trailer, were'nt rescuing anyone and were'nt helping someone bring in fish; the fact that Cape Kiwanda is the oldest and only port of its kind in the world for dory boats, and there is great whale watching...all that in like 10 minutes!  Who knew?) We had to move it because something about running from the Sheriff didn' at sound appealing.  Once settled.  We made our way to the Sand Wall of Death. That's what it looked like to me.  Of course FBFF and spouse, The Mister and BFF's Mister attacked the wall with a rabid vigor that was scary. They made it to the top, I swear they actually were running at one point!  BFF and I were taking it SLOW, she has a bad shin, and me? well I just need to get out more than I do and possibly get some physical therapy for the month old leg injury...  Soon BFF was ahead of me.  I was using her footsteps to get along.  Finally, after multiple stops to catch my breath and make sure that the pain I was feeling in my chest, and the numb cold feeling in my arms wasn't cardiac arrest I made it...and wow!  What a view! My husband had already already summited and kept telling me it was worth it. From my vantage point I was not so sure and considered going back down, but pressed on anyway.

That little adventure got me thinking about life.  As I was walking (and at one point practically crawling), I thought about those who have gone before me.  Family, historical figures....people who paved a way for the life I live today.  Free to go where I want, live where I want, be whoever I want to be.  People who risked their lives standing up for what is just, right and fair.  Each step I took on that dreaded sandy hill also made me think of the steps I will leave for those coming behind me and how important it is to keep going so when I make it to the top, I can let them know that yes, it is worth it!