Departing Summer

 Here we are, in September already!  I can hardly believe it; the time has flown so quickly this summer.  Or to quote Annie's Venezuelan ballet master: "where the time does go?"

We are in Charleston (again!) this weekend, and this time my husband was able to come along to see my Dad for the first time since Easter, when my husband flew into Charleston at midnight from Finland on Good Friday and spent two happy and jet-lagged days here. 

I am working on knitting my first lace item, a green merino wool scarf that has been ripped out *twice*--once because after about nine inches of work, I realized I'd misinterpreted the pattern, and the second time because after about five inches of work, I realized I'd gotten too involved in my own thoughts and was somehow a few stitches short of a row.  I have begun again in earnest, with complete understanding of the pattern and the determination to stay focused!  

My father is two weeks out from finishing his two weeks of brain radiation, and he's a trooper. Brain radiation is not for the faint of heart. He had to spend three days *in the ER* (not kidding--in the emergency room for three days) last week, but things are more stable now.  He's a bit unsteady on his feet, weak as a kitten, fatigued from the brain radiation, but still smiling.  And so grateful for his many blessings. And so am I. If you think of it, please continue to pray for him: for few side effects, for a good quality of life, for faith and grace in the midst of it all.  

Gardening has been on the very back burner this summer, due to Life Circumstances.  And yet things continue to be pretty even without my active help.  My beloved "Autumn Joy" sedum is green, but will turn pink this month.

And the David Austin "Desdemona" roses that I planted last year are having a very good second year of life, in spite of my benign neglect.  These roses have the most gorgeous "old rose" scent, and their color is perfect for my preferred palate of pinks, greens, and the occasional purpley-blue. 

I'm trying to keep up with daily walks, enjoy my treats (morning coffee...good books...fun earrings), stay kind to my husband and children, keep everyone fed, clothed, and educated, and "rejoice at the times to come." Always. 

And life is still beautiful.  

Fifty Years Hence

 The painting over my Dad's mantel in Charleston was done many years ago from a photograph he took about fifty years ago from the village of Rockville, which sits at the end of Wadmalaw Island. This boat is floating in Bohicket Creek.  In the distance there's a line of trees--that's Seabrook Island, before it was developed. 

When we were at Seabrook last month, we walked out on the marsh behind the house where my family was staying.  My cousin pointed out the little houses across the marsh are the collection of old homes at Rockville. 

I stood there on the marsh and looked over and tried to picture my Dad on the opposite shore, a tiny dot from half a century ago, aiming his camera my way.

I see you and I love you, Dad.  Always have and always will. 

Gifts from Seabrook

 Back in July when we spent a while in Charleston, we skipped down to Seabrook for a day. My mother's brother and his wife (my dear aunt!) were there, along with my two cousins, their spouses, and their (combined) four children!  

Seabrook has its own little flavor of magic, I've discovered this year.  This was my second visit there. 

The drive down to Seabrook (or Kiawah) on John's Island is just beautiful: canopies of live oak trees line the way.  The island was thoughtfully-planned with lots of preserved marsh area and hundreds of gorgeous live oaks.  

(The view from my cousin's bedroom window.)

The ocean was warm and calm, and perfect for just relaxing in the water.  No pounding surf, no strong undertow. Deliciously peaceful.

And Finn kept finding whole sand dollars, over and over again.  

Best of all, I sat and talked for quite a while to my aunt and uncle.  I didn't realize I needed it until I had it: their empathy, wisdom, advice, and interest were all soothing to my spirit, a real balm to my soul.  There's such a gift in having someone older and wiser than you sharing their wisdom and love.  

Just another little gift in the midst of it all. So many things for which we can give thanks!

Rejoicing Always

Today is August 7th, which I realized means it has been nearly an entire month since I last wrote here!

Time flies.  

The children and I spent nine nights in Charleston last month, visiting my sweet Dad and stepmom.  I am so thankful for the flexibility to spend so much time with him, so thankful for the gift of technology so that I can enjoy my daily phone call with him (we talk anywhere from half an hour to over an hour nearly every day!), so thankful for everything I see God doing in this situation.  He is doing so much. He is orchestrating everything.  I just know He's in total control. 

Dad starts two weeks of whole brain radiation tomorrow.  Will you pray for him?  He is a little rattled by the possible side effects--things like memory loss--and I can't blame him.  Even so, his courage inspires me.  And he never complains.  My specific prayer requests are: 1) that the brain radiation has a minimal or zero impact on his memory and personality; 2) that it is effective in eliminating the tumors in his brain so that his life can be extended; 3) that the side effects aren't painful for him.  

I am leaving on Saturday to spend a week in Charleston--just me.  The children will stay home with my husband.  I wanted to have the time *just me* to focus on helping with driving to daily radiation appointments, keeping house, moral support.....again, this is such a blessing and I'm so thankful for all the support I have at home to make this happen.

*  *  * 

Today in church the sermon was on 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18. As soon as the pastor began reading the Scripture my children turned to me and smiled: this is one of our memory verses from last year!  And it is so apropos to our lives right now!  "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." I love this verse because it contains God's will for our lives; as the pastor put it today: be joy-full, prayer-full, and thank-full! 

During a hard time I tend to have little practices I fall back upon to keep myself healthy and high-functioning, and I've been focusing on those this summer: exercise, eating well, *lots* of sleep and rest, not over-extending myself, doing my daily tasks a little slower than normal, and looking for the sweet and joyful aspects of life every day.  Every night I have so much for which I am thankful!  

My children (and I, I guess) have two more weeks of full summer. Then Finn begins two online classes, and Annie will start her math and history work with me.  The week after that, Finn begins Spanish 3, and the week after Labor Day, they both add in two more online classes each.  I think that "slow" start makes a lot of sense for us this year!  The next month, three months, six months....all of it...are just a big question mark.  We are going forward with Normal Life plans: The Nutcracker in December, piano lessons, the boys' Big Trip Out West*. And we are holding it all lightly.  I have lived in this in-between place before and it is sanctifying. 

In the midst of everything, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are growing quickly and are the best entertainment, we are having major landscaping done on our side yard soon, and our children are healthy and growing!

*The Boys' Big Trip Out West: in a couple of months, my husband is taking Finn to Oregon!  They are going to spend two nights in Portland, and then three nights on the coast and three nights in the Hood River area.  If anyone has any recommendations for anything interesting to see or do in northern Oregon, let me know!  My husband has done lots of research and planning already, but it's always nice to hear what others think.  We love Oregon!  We spent a week out there in 2002, but we did the southern part of the state, and the boys won't have time to drive everywhere, so they're focusing on the Cannon Beach area and the Columbia River Gorge. I'm happy for them!

Accept Each Day

 "I always liked routine and rhythm.  They help me recognize the gifts that, quite often, we fail to see as gifts because they seem dull and unimportant--essentially, life itself.  Liberation occurs only through acceptance."

and

"One has to accept each day and everything in it as a gift from God, and transform each day into joy.  If all the details of my life...are not giving joy but are only a burden, then it is really my sin, my selfishness, my laziness."

Oh, how I appreciate Father Alexander Schmemann! 

These quotes, particularly the second one, hit home with me the other night when I was reading through his journals.  I have lived this over and over and over again.  I have lived the joy of every single mundane day as well as the burdensome feeling of joylessness that I can trace back to my own sin. There have been excruciatingly difficult days when I felt completely overwhelmed by joy. There have been relatively "easy" days when I have felt cranky and burdened.  The difference truly always seems to be my own attitude, my own willingness to accept each day as a gift. We are given so many opportunities in life, every day, to take joy.  

I pray that God will always give me the grace to transform each day into joy, no matter what the days bring.  Amen.

We Must Risk Delight

"We must risk delight.  We can do without pleasure,

but not delight. Not enjoyment.  We must have

the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless 

furnace of this world."

-Jack Gilbert 

Our Daily Bread

I've been reflecting this summer on this phrase from the Lord's Prayer: give us this day our daily bread. What is daily bread?  I think it's what we need, when we need it....no more and no sooner.  Like the wandering Israelites, we need sustenance, but sometimes we need even more to rely on God and trust that He will give us that sustenance as we need it. Just enough for today. Just enough manna, or food, or money, or courage, or faith, or strength, or hope.

I would truly appreciate prayers for my sweet Dad (pictured here with me as a baby and my Grandma Polly...as well as my beloved Madame Alexander doll...I still have her!).  

We learned last week that immunotherapy has failed for him, and the cancer is now back in his liver, and has also spread into his abdomen, spine, and brain.  His oncologist started him back on chemo almost immediately, and yesterday he met with the radiation oncologist, because he'll have two weeks of brain radiation to try to lessen the numerous cancerous lesions in his brain. And last night he had to spend the night in the ER due to a bit of cancer-related fallout.

My children and I were due to go to Charleston on July 13th, and still plan to hold to that date, but it cannot come soon enough, and if I need to, I'll leave sooner.  

Whole brain radiation is no walk in the park.  Please pray for this sweet guy.  Give him, this day and every day, his daily bread.