Showing posts with label Superman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Superman. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

19 years...








Dear Superman,

Happy 19th wedding anniversary! 

I'm sitting here, stumbling with finding my calculator on my phone, trying to plug in the numbers.  Then I remember, you are celebrating your 30 year high school reunion this year.  So its been 30 years ago since our first date,  although it seems our hearts married right from the start. That one summer night, you had 400 hundred and some odd dollars on the dash of your Mustang, and we had a wide open night to do with as we pleased. I remember little of where we went, or even what we did.  But we spent not a dime, and talked under a bright moon in the front seat of your car, till the birds started to sing at dawn. And we learned that even in the quietness, speaking not a word, our heartbeats had started to commingle. 

But in the thirty years of knowing you I can't put my finger on when it began.  Was it a word?  A date?  A present?  When was it, that I knew?  The times we were together those first couple of years, it was so very real for both of us.  Yet, the times we chose to be apart, I'm convinced, tied us together in even more binding ways.  Maybe I knew when you called and talked to me for over an hour when I was in Paris, and we weren't technically dating at the time. The bill had to have been massive, but at no point did you want to cut it short.  Or it might be how 
you'd just show up to drive me to my college classes, on the really cold days- like -42, knowing I'd have to walk in the cold if you didn't.  We weren't dating, and yet, your desire to take care of me never waned. I still have the Snoopy Christmas ornament your grandmother made for me that year.  You wouldn't tell her we weren't dating... you see...  

I think we already knew.  We weren't entirely ready.  But we knew.

It might have even started back in high school, when we went on the church trip to New York City. We stood at the top of the World Trade Center taking night photos of the cars down below. Even then, neither one of us talked and yet we were completely comfortable not filling up the space with needless words. Were the seeds planted then?

Perhaps, I know, because of all the treats you bring me now, just because you know I had a REALLY LONG DAY. Or its how much I love the way you say, we'll find a way, don't worry. 


Like the day the letter from Blue Cross shows up last week, telling us yet again, they're canceling our health insurance policy at the end of this year. I can't fathom what the new costs might be to us.  But you reassure me, as always, we'll get by.   

It could certainly be because of all the spontaneity. Like when you say, Really, Toronto, Canada is not too far to drive all 4 of us in our little Toyota Prius.   And I discover its not really too far, and we end up with the adventure of a life-time. Or the time when you first got your job in Idaho and were getting ready to move.  But you said "Stay in graduate school.  We can weather a 9 month separation."  Yeah, we did that too.  


It certainly could be the day you said Idaho isn't working for us anymore, after nearly 10 years of calling it home.  Lets quit our jobs, buy a small blue house and move back to Minnesota to be closer to our family.  Maybe I'll try photography and see if I can make a go of that.  Um hm.  That's what we did.  It could have been that day.


Or it could be that one really hard day.  The day I called, sobbing, saying this time its not cysts in my breast.  I was wrong.  Its the worst imaginable and I don't know how I am going to do breast cancer.  I'm sorry.  And you say, I'll be right there.  We'll just do it, together, and everything will be okay.  Five years later, you're still here, and we still manage together.

I guess that's the thing, really.  Its not any one of these, but its all of them.  Its how we've woven this tapestry of us.  Through the times we are at our best, and the many more times when we are broken, tired, or weak.  It hasn't mattered. Apart, was just never really meant for us for very long.  I can't think of a time in my life, when it ever really will be either.  

So at some point its just been together.  This story of us.  Its about the 19 years of marriage, the 30 years of knowing each other, the 16 years of Nolan, plus the 14 years of Colton.  Its the forever I hope to know you, to love you, be with you, and weave together the rest of the story of our life.  All of these years later I know our commingled hearts will always be just enough to sustain us through the foreverness of you and I.




























Friday, April 22, 2011

If I'm being honest, it really sucked... and learning how to trust.

If I 'm being honest, I'd have to tell you what a dark day I had yesterday.  Half of it anyway.  It really sucked, and I don't even like that word, but thats how yucky it was.

But before I start, let me say this, "I am fine.  Really.  I'm doing well.  But its not all sunshine and smiles.  So please read with the understanding, I am only being real and giving you the Dr. Phil "tell it like it is" account of the occasional bad day I have."  









The first half of my day was actually really good.  I went to Target and gathered ideas to inform the Easter Bunny on what he should bring to our house.  And I had lunch with my neighbor Darla, which we never get to do.

But then I went to get the mail and couldn't help ripping into the pretty envelope from the Mayo Clinic.  And there it was in black and white.  My report.  First from the nurse practitioner, Nurse Ratched, oops, did I really just call her that?  Next, from Dr. P.

Let me start off by saying, there was absolutely nothing new in that report.  I've heard it all, and read most of it before.  So I am not sharing anything new.  But, the cyclone of emotion that settled over me was astonishing even so.  Maybe it was the rainy day, on top of more gloomy days already.  Maybe I was just in a mood.  It wasn't like me, but I have to say it WAS me yesterday.

In reality, I completely get what "they" (the medical personnel) have to do.  When you go for a second opinion, they tell you what they think from A to Z.  And I am only at letter B or even C, with my own Doctor. We aren't skipping ahead to Q, R, or S.  But at the Mayo Clinic, they needed to remind me of the whole alphabet, A to stinkin'  Z.  Cause Z?  Really stinks.

So my eyes  skimmed right over the "Patient is a pleasant woman, and seems to be coping well...," and lasered in on the more ominous language.


"Palliative care."  Bam, it cuts through me like a nail on the cross.


"Comfort measures."  Bam.  I recoil with the sensation of pierced skin.


"Incurable."  Bam...  sears me to the core.




For the second time, I want to shout at them, "But I am alive, and I want to live.  Can you not obviously see my two boys alive in my eyes, whom I breathe for?  My husband, my Superman who is every and all things to me?  I am not cancer.  I am alive in spite of the cancer.  Please see ME."


I am a sobbing, weeping, mess, leveled on the floor.


I can't help but think of Easter.  Its Good Friday today.  Why has the word "good" never seemed ironic before to me?  I think I have always pushed past the sadness of Christ on the Cross, to the joy and celebration of the Resurrection.  I've never invited in, the pain of the cross.

How did Jesus feel, washing the feet of Judas who would betray him?  My thoughts circle and swirl around the events of Good Friday.

I sat with it all day yesterday.  My very best "virtual couch" friends were by my side.

"Please God, give me the shift in perspective I need to go back to Hope."

Robin encourages me to read chapter 8 of One Thousand Gifts, and as I do, my faith restores piece by fragile piece.

Ann's words again, a balm to my weary soul... she reminds me "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me."  (John 14:1)  Bible verse after verse she reminds me.

Her words, now pierce me, "I've got to get this thing, what it means to trust... because I can't fill with joy until I learn how to trust."

The last nail hits especially hard and truthful... Bam.  




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To show you I am okay, look what my friend Roxane  brought me this morning "hope" in the pewter cross on the book above.  Roxane blogs at Peace Garden Writer, and Peace Garden Mama, and its worth a visit to her blogs.  Thanks for a wonderful morning, Roxane!

As I go to snap the photo of the cross, I realize the renewed feeling I have, hope- restored.

Have a Blessed Easter everyone!









When you get lucky

When you get lucky

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