I've Got My Mojo Back

This is how the conversation went. "So, are you going to church tomorrow?" He replied, "maybe." I in turn said, "I think you should go and thank God for giving you a wonderful wife!" He said, "are you in a doorway?" I asked why. "Because the way your head is bloating, I don't want you to get stuck. My reply, "ha, ha." What's so significant about this banter? Well, we've got our mojo back. We are feeling confident and are able to laugh and be silly again. With ease. And we're loving every minute of it. I promise this is the last post about cancer. We have chosen to embrace this great second chance. We are being wickedly funny again. There's lots of silliness going on. Lots of hugging and kissing, too. We are done with the days of sitting on the couch holding hands in fear. Now we are making plans for the summer. With optimism. It is so good to focus on the day at hand, but to be able to make plans is a liberating feeling. When Scott called with the good news over a week ago we all slept that night like babies. We fell into REM sleep that doesn't allow you to dream. It's that peaceful. Over the last few months my days went like this. I woke up. Usually tired. One cup of coffee was made. Two dogs were fed. Three lunches were made. And off to work I would go. I would lose myself in the busy times of the school I work at. At least for about eight hours. Then on my drive home I would muster up the strength to put on my happy face and greet the rest of the evening. Even though I was worried sick. I did talk about this, but didn't want to dwell on it. And we would have supper, go to karate, violin lesson and preconfirmation. People would ask. And I would answer. Now I have better news to share. And life is beautiful and funny again. And life goes on. Cancer does not define this family. But it is part of our history. We won't forget about it or ignore it. What we were before cancer is a family that loves to joke and be crazy silly. We lost that for a bit, but now it's back. And so next week I'm back to simplifying. And I'm going to address an incredibly interesting topic. Yes I am. Storage...

Exhale

What a glorious day Friday was.  Yes, it was the last day of the week.  Yes, I had plans to head north for the weekend.  And yes, there's more.  I got the best phone call I have ever received.  Do you remember the phone call I got on December 5?  The day that my husband couldn't reach me?  The day that he was so sad and so desperate to reach me that he called the administration building and they were able to track me down?  The call I received was that I needed to call home immediately.  There was a family emergency.  And when I did reach Scott he told me he had prostate cancer.  My heart broke.  For him and for Gracie.  And for me.

So back to the second call I will never forget.  The one I received on Friday.  It was again from Scott.  I have carried my phone with me every day since December 5.  You all know that he had surgery.  And a very long recovery.  He had a PSA test that came back saying that he still had a count that was worth taking further action on.  He was all set to start radiation at the end of May.  You know, the eight weeks, every day, Monday through Friday treatments.  And then this past week, he had another PSA test.  The level of PSA was undetectable.  UNDETECTABLE.  Can you imagine a better phone call to receive?  At this time there is no need for Scott to have radiation.

There has been a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.  We had come to terms with what was in our future.  We had a plan.  We have a terrific support system.  And so many people praying for us.  We are so fortunate.  We know that the future is not for us to decide.  We also know that for now we are going to celebrate and live life to the fullest.  And we are able to exhale.

I'm Kidding. Sort Of.

Do you know how people say that there is a little bit of truth in joking? That it's easier to say something without really saying it? I had a moment of this yesterday. We were at the cottage. For the first time since Scott was diagnosed with cancer. As a family. We fell into this familiar rhythm. Gracie played outside. Scott had a project. I cleaned the place up a bit, made a plan for meals and read on the deck. It was a very comfortable day. Actually, it was almost perfect.

I called my mom and dad. Dad answered the phone first. I asked him, could you do me a favor? Sure, what's up? I knew he'd say sure. He's my dad. And by this time mom was on the phone, too. I replied, could you go down to Madison and sell our house? We're perfectly fine here at the cottage. No need to be anywhere else. Of course I said this jokingly. Sort of. We have had amazing times at this cottage. We love it here. It's always hard to leave and go back to real life at the end of a weekend. But we do. And we always joke that we aren't leaving.

After all the air smells better up at the cottage. We sleep like rocks. We play hard. We have lots of friends and family join us. We have all of the comforts of home. We all have clothes and all our necessities at the cottage. Shoot. My toothbrush at the cottage is even better than the one in Madison. I know, buy another one. Simple, right? We literally can jump in the truck or car and leave. With no need to pack. See why I love it? The trees, the water, the campfires all make you want to stay. Work doesn't feel like work there. Being at the cottage is a retreat. Or a treat. Both I guess.

If you're ever up at the cottage, check our log book. The one we write in each time we're there. We always record who was with us. The weather conditions are noted. We write about our experiences. And I dare you to find a time that we don't sign off with the wish to stay. We love our lives in Madison, too. Please understand this. But If we had to pick, we'd probably all head north. I'm kidding. Sort of.

The Heart Of My Home

About ten years ago Scott and I decided we needed a new kitchen table. The one we had wasn't big enough. We didn't have enough chairs. The chairs we had were wobbly. We often entertained. We once had forty people in our house. We love a crowd. We needed a larger table. Scott said he wanted manly chairs. The kind that he would be comfortable in. So off we went to the furniture store. We walked in and I announced to the store owner that we needed the kind of kitchen table that I could birth my babies on. The kind of table I could lay my deceased loved ones out on. Ok. Maybe a bit dramatic. But we were about to drop the mother load of money on a huge table. I needed to know that this guy understood what I was looking for. And boy he had better have a sense of humor! I appreciate this attribute in people I work with.

So from table to table we went. Not the right color. Four legs. I prefer a pedestal table. The chairs fit around it better. Still not finding it. I was starting to get worried. And then there it was. Our future table. With four leaves and eight chairs. This thing expands to the size of a football field. I'm not kidding. So this table became the heart of our home. Lots of family and friends joined us around it for meals, game nights, cookie decorating, crafting. Lots of conversations over a cup of coffee. Some good, some sad. And always a sturdy table to lean on.

When we moved to Madison almost two years ago, our table came with us. Only one problem. We no longer have the gargantuan dining room to accommodate the heart of our home. It fits, don't get me wrong. But as I move around the table there are lots of moments of, shall we say, sucking it in. Our dining room just isn't as big. It's a fact. What to do? Didn't take me long to decide. It took a little longer to get the entire family on board. We need to downsize our table. I know. I know. It's the heart of my home. But do you know what? It's my family that makes it so. We make the table the hub of all that's happening. It's time to sell and move on. It's time to let someone else enjoy the massive space and strength of this table. We will soon have a smaller table and we will make new memories around this piece of furniture. Because after all, that's all it is. We are the heart of our home.

Spring Break

No post this week. I'll be back next week renewed and inspired!

Stop

How busy are we? Let me see. Just a minute. I need to check my email. My texts. Can't live without the phone for goodness sake! But stop. Put down the electronics. It's okay to turn off the t.v. No music. Just quiet. Ahhhh. This sounds simple. But it's really hard to do. To disconnect from all of our modern marvels. You would not believe what a relief this can be. It's an opportunity to reconnect with your family and your friends. Even your dogs.

And this is what I have learned and rediscovered. My dog Bailey will hold my gaze forever. I think he may be reading my soul. And I'm reading his. We both came up with the same reading. We love and trust each other completely. I have learned from Sweet Pea that she, too, is loving and very thankful.

From my husband I have rediscovered this beautiful fleck of goldish brown in one of his eyes. I knew it was there from the start, but it's a reminder to me of his genuine new love for me. His sincere love of me. When it was all new. I noticed this fleck one day and thought some twenty years ago that I wanted to know everything about this man. And for this I am so fortunate. To stop my girl was hard. She's a busy one. So I caught her at a slow moment. As I was tucking her into bed for the night. Those freckles get me every time. I'm looking at the face of an almost full grown young woman. But what I really see is the sweet little baby with those kissable cheeks. I can't resist the urge to smooch them. And smooch them I do. She lets me. She's tired.

The other day I was visiting with a friend. I was listening. A lot. In fact my friend asked if everything was alright. Yes. Everything is fine. You haven't said much is all. It's kind of nice to listen, I replied. To hear how you are doing. It's nice to live a little beyond my own four walls.

So try it sometime. Just stop. That's all. Stop and pay attention to what's going on. Around you and beyond you. It really is amazing.

Let's Hear It For The Girls

When Scott and I found out we were going to have a girl we were elated. I started calling her by name after that tell tale ultrasound. For all of the trouble we had getting her here, life has been mostly easy and carefree since. We taught Gracie that there was nothing that she couldn't do. We are responsible parents, but we also instilled in her the fear of hardly anything. We wanted to and have given her many opportunities to try many things in life.

My mom and dad have done the same. Gracie has traveled with them to New York and San Francisco. This summer their trip is to Boston. There have been plays, concerts and musicals, too. Fun and educational all at the same time. Gracie has been part of musical events, student government, yearbook committee, karate and running club. There is no stopping this girl. And we'd have it no other way.

So a few months back, when she came home and announced that she would like to be a science olympiad, we supported this. And she went to regionals. And placed second! Yep. That was hootin' and hollerin' that you heard from her mom and dad! Then dad became a coach. She's really good at this, he said. I smiled and said, I'm sure she is. No, really Ann, she's got a knack for this. I believe you, I said. She and her friend Calista kept practicing. My kitchen table was starting to look like a lab. Good excuse to pick up take out for supper.

This past Saturday was the State Science Olympiad. In Oshkosh. Her dad's alma mater. We couldn't be in the room that the events took place in. We were there in time for the awards ceremony. I had a second to ask, how'd you do? I feel good about it, mom. And when their event was called and they placed third in the state in Crimebusting, we screamed and clapped like crazy people! Proud people. Proud parents.

We love that she tries new things. That she has a black belt in karate. That she embraces new challenges all of the time. Now if we could just get her to clean her room...