Nolan

It's already been a full week, since Nolan left.

I try to think back to when the dream began?  Was he 3, 5 or 6 maybe?  He loved the NHL hockey player, Sidney Crosby.  He read about Crosby's hockey history, and wrote reports about him for school.  We turned his entire bedroom into a "Penguins," theme with grey walls, black bedding and decals everywhere.  

He named our dog, "Crosby," for Pete's sake.  Could we be any more obsessed?  

Imagine his sheer delight, to discover, "Sid the kid," had gone to school in Minnesota.  Sidney had attended school, and played hockey at Shattuck- St. Mary's in Faribault, Minnesota.  

Nolan just longed to visit the campus.

Flash forward all these years, and the list of NHL players that Nolan admires has grown more diverse.  So many qualities, in so many of them, to look up to.  But his admiration for Sid, has never waned.

So when fate and opportunity knocked on our door?  How could we not help achieve a childhood dream for our son?

Earlier this spring, Nolan was accepted into a hockey camp at Shattuck, for two weeks.  Last Sunday, the long awaited day arrived.  Rick would drive Nolan the 5 hours to his hockey camp. 

Tears streamed all morning for me.  Nolan has never left before.  Never been gone for longer than a sleepover, somewhere close by.  He tried to reassure me.  "Mom, it will go quick and I'll be back before you know it."  

But I finally put into words, what wasn't readily apparent.

"Nolan, these are happy tears, I promise.  I will miss you, so very much.  But I am so happy you get to go!"  

Plus, the pile of wood had showed up, just when I needed it most.

I've felt so vulnerable lately.  Depleted in energy.  Inability to see very far down the road.  There have been some long, quiet, and lonely days, open for much reflection.

Have we been doing the right things?  Have we been good stewards of our gifts?  Do we bless others as we have been blessed?  

As I've wrestled with these very big things, a pile of wood with a number on it, landed in our front yard.

And the number?  Is my mother's old house address.

My mom. 

With a message, coming through, loud and clear.

The address of her old house, that we just sold, in trying to settle her estate and pay off her debt, with a tiny bit left when its all done.  My mother's estate, that is seeing us through some of the big changes we face.  (The 1703 is most likely a job number, but the irony of the meaning for us is no coincidence.) 

It feels like a wink from her, from Him, saying, "it's okay."  

 So I assure Nolan,  I hope he feels, Grandma, and all of us, are happy he gets to go to camp.   

That day he left, I threw on a hat and threw my arms around him, holding on tight as long as I could.  What I love about this kid?  He held me, just as hard, just as long, his strength and maturity climbing to new levels, as we parted ways.

Hours later, I receive this photo, via text from Rick.  This is the main entrance to the campus at Shattuck-St. Mary's.  It's simply breathtaking.

Gradually, each day, I've felt a little better.  I've been able to be on my feet for increasing amounts of time.  Some color has come back to my face, and my breathing and heart rate are not so laborious again.

So on Friday, Rick made a small bed for me in the back of the truck.  We had yearbooks to pick up, just an hour away from Faribault, and Nolan.

Friday at dinnertime, we arrived at Shattuck to see Nolan.

Here is the entrance to Whipple Dormitory, where Nolan is staying.

The fascinating details lurking behind every turn.

I'm breathing so hard, and I couldn't care less.  I'm pushing through, camera in hand, trying to take it all in.

A long walk across campus to the ice arena to pick up hockey gear.

Loved this philosophical statement on the side of the building.  Its the heart of what the hockey development camp is all about.

The ice arena is filled with memorabilia from former students and players.  Sidney Crosby to the left, Zach Parise above, as Nolan walks on ahead through the doors.  

Then back we go, through the old buildings on our way to the car.

But I skipped forward,  just a bit, as the church beckoned me up ahead.

First, this prayer circle off to the side.  The peace welling within was unmistakable.

Nolan had called one night during his free time and said "Mom, I just feel so much peace."  Amen.  

And then this...  

So aptly named, Chapel of the Good Sheperd.  Its an Episcopalian Church, and I longed to see inside, but we were in a hurry to gather Nolan, and his friend, and leave for a day.

The next day?  We arrived in Brainerd, for a hockey tryout for Nolan.  

But in between the try-out sessions?  We knew just where to go... Zorbaz on Gull Lake.

The boys quickly paired off for some beach volleyball, while the adults settled under a shady tree, listening to the live music.  

Boats cruised in and out of the dock area, as the perfect day rendered us quiet, and happy to just be there enjoying it.

Nolan and his hockey friends had a great time, taking it easy for a bit, before they headed back to their final session.  (Here I am eating my words.  I took the picture saying I wouldn't post it and merely texted it,  but then it surfaced on Instagram-hehe)

Later that night, Nolan and his friend Ben headed back to Shattuck, to finish their last week of hockey camp.

Rick and I headed back to Moorhead.  

I am happy, exhausted in some ways, and revived in many others.

I have a full week ahead, and so much more to share.  

~all shall be well~

being 11...

People ask me all the time how the kids are doing and I answer they are doing well.  And they are.  But  after spending 3 months with them all day, I have a better sense that I am not the only one touched by cancer.  Its just more subtle with the boys, and they don't always have words to articulate how it makes them feel.

We laughed at Colton the other day.  His comment was, "well I don't get to do anything cause mom is sick in bed every day..."  We had to laugh, because its simply not true.  We teased him about all the things we've done and he had to admit that might have been an exaggeration.  But I do get that is how he perceives me.

And Nolan?

Being 11 hasn't been easy on him.  We've tried unsuccessfully several times now to rescue a golden retriever.  The organization warned us that the young dogs go fast.  Every time we've inquired about just corresponding with a foster family, we've been told that dog is spoken for already.  Nolan gets his hopes up so high- theres been Jack, Susie, Gunner, and Booster as of late.  All spoken for.  We were a step closer with Jack than we've been with the other dogs- our family's file made it to the foster family to review.  But it was rejected because they felt Jack needed a fence.   Nolan sobbed.   He had already picked out the spot where Jack was going to sleep, next to his bed of course.  I know he just desperately wants that unconditional bond of love with a pet that he misses.

He has such a big heart.  His emotions can be so intense sometimes and anger flashes at times when he is covering up for how hurt he is.  Its later that he verbalizes how filled with remorse he is over his words, and how defeated he feels.

He's been camping out on our bedroom floor at night.  He waits till we are asleep and then sneaks quietly in with his pillow and blanket.   He has turned down going to 3 birthday parties this summer, and two sleep overs. He doesn't want to leave my side.  Its all I can do to convince him to go play at one or two friends houses on occasion.  But he either can't stay long or his friends can't play at all and I see how sad it makes him, but he'll tell me its okay, he just wants to be close to home and check on me anyways.   He is 11 sometimes, sometimes 30.

So we're bonding- this togetherness of him and I.  I see how very Tween he really is.  He and his Dad built this form for stick handling.  He is out in the garage every day with his stick and a ball weaving it in and out.  He is creating discipline.   He has also gotten strong enough to help Rick do some demo at my mom's old house.  He swung the hammer like a pro and stuck with it all day.  He has grown a ton this summer and is long and lean.  But I still find the little boy in him.  I'll find him making a team out of his stuffed animals and turning the basement into a baseball field.  The couch cushions double for bases and his stuffed animals get a work out around those bases.  

He is excited for 5th grade.  Many of his friends are in his class this year and he has such a fun teacher again. And then I see that smile fill his face when he speaks of seeing his friends every day at school... and I am hopeful for him.  For us.  Cancer is leaving its mark on both of us- our hearts just continue to expand together. 

"12 weeks of summer in two days"

The party invite was pretty much every 10 year olds dream of a party... swimming, tubing, jet skiing, boating, fishing, and sleeping over-night. Add in pizza and ribs and fruit and chips and dip and birthday cake and you'll know why my son almost didn't sleep the night before he left for the party. I think our host Jeff put it best "we're trying to pack 12 weeks of summer fun into two days."

But the best part of the party? Was when WE, the parents got to go to the lake and spend the day.  Rick brought along his zoom lens and got these fun photos of everyone tubing.

Alex and Riley, the birthday boy who turned 11.

Ryan and Alex

                             Kate, the brave, was excited to go with her Dad, Thad.

                                                               Nolan taking a turn by himself.

And then there's Kate's mom, Bonnie.  The only kind of water she likes is filled with chlorine, surrounded by cement.  Her "yuck" radar was on high alert as this was her first time spending time at the lake.  The best way to get her acquainted with the lake?  Why tubing behind the boat of course.

Thumbs up means go faster.   Thumbs down means slower, I'm ready to get off...  ummm Bonnie, they haven't even started yet.  C'mon Snooks, you can do it.

Head first into the water?  

Oh no...

... that was a close one.  Faster Kate?  Sure thing...

... the scream heard round the lake.  

Thumbs up and thumbs down... classic mother and daughter.   But guess who said they are ready to come back to the lake?  

They started as friends.

    Two days later, after swimming, tubing, jumping, fishing, in the hot summer sun, they left as friends.

    

                                                                    Sam and Colton

Thad and Bonnie






Nolan





Kim and Kenzie

We barely got in the car before this little light was out.  

Thanks to our amazing hosts, Kim and Jeff.  They welcomed us to their little slice of paradise and we all left feeling rejuvenated from sunshine,  good food, amazing friends, and blessings overflowing.  
Same time next week?  *wink* *wink*

“Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world.”

~Ada Louis Huxtable

























By all accounts I know I should be drunk... with summer.


I know I am in a bubble. First we have a big move for my parents planned for the end of this week, into their new apartment. After we get them settled for a few days, my brother and his wife and their two girls are coming for a visit the following week.

So much to do, to look forward to, to enjoy. It keeps us all in the bubble. As if by our activity, we can keep everything we cherish within our collective grasp.  We're afraid to sit still, to stop moving, to get off the ride.

While the boys went with their father to a baseball game, I worked in the yard yesterday.  I started with just pulling some stray grass growing amongst the flower beds.  With the soil saturated from all the recent rains, they slid out easily in large clumps.  The steady monotonous work was soothing. I watched my fingernails fill with dirt and remnants of grass. My fingers were caked with clay. I pulled and I pulled.

Soon, all that was left  were the thistles.  Maybe its my frame of mind, my inability to leave the safety of my bubble, but I found myself barehanded, tackling those thorny weeds.  I tugged and pulled at their spindly base, wincing at the prick on my fingers when coming in contact with the thorny stems.  Yet, I never once moved to get my gardening gloves.  I sat with a tweezer last night, surveying the wounds and slivers covering my hands.  They are battle scars and a badge of honor, that serve as reminders of the heavy burden I carry.

For all of the beauty of my blooms and blossoms, simply can't take away the worry in my mother's face. Or my sleepless, restless nights.  Or the change in my Dad's words, his appearance, his growing weakness.

Our bubble is showing signs of weakening.  I tread lightly, holding my breath, knowing the bubble will one day burst.  The thorns and the thistle will take over, no matter how many times I bravely reach to yank them from the ground.

Zorbaz.

To wind down from our fishing adventures, we headed over to Detroit Lakes. Summer and DL go together like the Fourth of July and fireworks, one just doesn't exist without the other. Detroit Lakes is a resort town with Big Detroit and Little Detroit Lakes at the heart of it. There are condos and motels and cabins to rent, a big public sandy beach to swim at, all the boating and skiing you could want plus tons of things I am certain I have forgotten about.

While its hard to pick just one favorite place in Detroit Lakes, one of the places we can't seem to get enough of is Zorbaz. Its a pizza and mexican restaurant/bar. Its an institution that has been around for many years. Its the type of place where sandy feet and bathing suits are the norm. The food is great, the atmosphere is relaxing and fun, and it feels like a mini vacation just minutes from town.

It was the perfect respite from our fishing adventures! We were all ravenous, so all bickering ceased as the boys munched on their macho nachos. They come on a tray, cause a plate wouldn't suffice to contain them all, and are covered with melted cheese, cilantro, sour cream, onions, peppers, tomatoes and beans. We about polished them off and then the pizza came. The boys wasted no time in demolishing that as well. And slowly we finally relaxed. I think this is the vision we hold for ourselves when we want to go someplace and take the boys. We tend to put adult-size expectations on small children and forget they require a lot of teaching and instructing.

It occurred to me that last year at this time, going to Zorbaz was still a little bit of a stretch for the boys. Nolan got distracted by the video games inside and Colton complained he didn't like anything on the menu. They slid off their chairs and fought with one another, and half way through our meal Rick and I were ready to run from the whole scene.

But here they were, sitting nicely, eating with good manners, and not fighting. As our stress melted away, the sense of humor kicked back in. I reminded Rick that growing up I longed to do the very thing we had done with the boys that day. While it was a lot of effort and exertion, I felt good that we were trying.

The boys were so tired on the way home they almost fell asleep in the car. It was a peaceful ride home. As we turned into the driveway and prepared to unhitch the boat, Colton piped up. "Don't take it off Dad. Just leave it" he said. "Why is that Colton, I asked?" "Cause. When we go back TOMORROW then we will just have to get in the truck and it'll be all ready to go!" I couldn't help but smile.