I have not been blogging regularly. I thought about it, but decided there wasn't much to say. Bo is great, except for the fact that he sometimes shows evidence of becoming a moody teen, and he logs over 3000 text messages a month--I am still trying to figure out how I feel about that, proud, worried, scared? There are few things still percolating in that story, like our concern that his monitoring may be overly intensive now that we are certain we know what he has, but other than that, I figured the literary well had run dry.
My friends have finally convinced me otherwise. I have had two years of hell, really. I am still trying to figure out why the universe chose to deliver me the nastiest karma pie ever, all at once. Was I really that terrible in my life? I suppose that considering I have felt incredibly blessed and lucky, but I have not been totally innocent of wrongdoing, in thought, word, AND deed, I deserved some comeuppance, but all at once? So, after wallowing in sadness, fear and uncertainty for over a year, I decided to let it out. Bad things happen even to the best people, and maybe if I write about it, we will all find ways to make dealing with it easier.
But that's all for today, too much to untangle quickly, but I figured if I said I will, then I will. However, in the short term, work is keeping me busy, plus it is combine season and I have a football player to feed--don't you wish you needed 5000 calories a day? Thanks for inspiring me!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Bo's Fifteen Minutes
It was Andy Warhol (who was, I might add, a Carnegie Mellon student...) who said that we all get 15 minutes of fame. I joke about this notion a lot. Pierce was due on December 30th and I told everyone that I DID NOT want a New Year's baby because when I finally got my 15 minutes, I wanted to be wearing clothes AND makeup! Well, I hope Bo hasn't had his 15 minutes--'cause that would really be a bummer--especially now that we are pretty darn sure he never even had cancer! If you are interested in the gory details, you can go to www.uscap.org and read his case study. Please note that some of the biographic details are wrong, but let's face it, Dr. Vargas was only interested in the gory details, not the pretty ones.
And can I say just one more time, that pathologists are just the best and Dr. Vargas is my hero? She presented Bo's case at the annual pathology conference and by the end of the discussion, there was not a dissenting opinion in the room. Plus, in preparation for the conference she did one more genetic test to determine that Bo does indeed have a marker for pleomorphic adenoma. So, what he had needed to be removed since any abnormal growth can become cancer if left long enough. The fact that it had already spread also probably meant that malignancy or further spread was probable if left to its own devices, but divine providence said we needed to find it and so the rest is history.
She said that Bo really has no more chance of having a recurrence than any of the rest of us have of having a single occurence of pleomorphic adenoma, but his monitoring schedule should probably still be followed since there is always a risk that a portion was left behind and may still be growing. So, that makes this blog really boring now, but I think I will keep it for a while, I can continue to let you know when Bo has his check-ups and hopefully at some point I will get back to business and tell you about the plans for the cancer center which have been on the back burner for a long time, but will be resurrected one day when life settles back down.
For now, Bo's last scans were Monday and he's all clear. He's also getting better at being poked and prodded, so the visits are much less traumatic than they used to be. So life in CoMO is good, the weather is beautiful and life is just magical--best to you and yours this fall season--my favorite and talk to you soon! With love, Lisa
And can I say just one more time, that pathologists are just the best and Dr. Vargas is my hero? She presented Bo's case at the annual pathology conference and by the end of the discussion, there was not a dissenting opinion in the room. Plus, in preparation for the conference she did one more genetic test to determine that Bo does indeed have a marker for pleomorphic adenoma. So, what he had needed to be removed since any abnormal growth can become cancer if left long enough. The fact that it had already spread also probably meant that malignancy or further spread was probable if left to its own devices, but divine providence said we needed to find it and so the rest is history.
She said that Bo really has no more chance of having a recurrence than any of the rest of us have of having a single occurence of pleomorphic adenoma, but his monitoring schedule should probably still be followed since there is always a risk that a portion was left behind and may still be growing. So, that makes this blog really boring now, but I think I will keep it for a while, I can continue to let you know when Bo has his check-ups and hopefully at some point I will get back to business and tell you about the plans for the cancer center which have been on the back burner for a long time, but will be resurrected one day when life settles back down.
For now, Bo's last scans were Monday and he's all clear. He's also getting better at being poked and prodded, so the visits are much less traumatic than they used to be. So life in CoMO is good, the weather is beautiful and life is just magical--best to you and yours this fall season--my favorite and talk to you soon! With love, Lisa
Thursday, June 11, 2009
How do You Measure a Year?
I am so excited that CEC has RENT on their lineup this season! RENT and Into the Woods, two of my favorites and perfect fodder for our one year anniversary. Roxanne reminded me that I never updated the blog after Bo's scans. They were clear, and here we are again in baseball season--right where we were last year when everything fell apart. June 10th, yesterday made it one year since the pool accident. And what an amazing year it's been. Bo had cancer, we totalled our old car, I got sued, but everything has worked out and life goes on. But as I contemplate life, which I do a lot, there are two songs--one from each musical--that hold even more special meaning for me since last year. I leave them for you to consider--some words need no elaboration. And let it serve as a teaser to CEC's next season--be there, community theater rocks!
RENT--Seasons of Love (abbreviated slightly):
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love.
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan.
525,600 minutes - how can you measure the life of a woman or man?
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died....
It's time now to sing out, the story never ends let's celebrate
remember a year in the life of friends.
How about love! Measure in love. Seasons of love!
Into the Woods--Children Will Listen (abbreviated slightly):
How do you say to your child in the night?
Nothing's all black, but then nothing's all white
How do you say it will all be all right
When you know that it might not be true?
What do you do?
Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"
Children will listen
Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen
How can you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight
Won't be misunderstood
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in it's head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful what you say
Children will listen
Careful you do it too
Children will see
And learn, oh guide them that step away
Children will glisten
Tample with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"
RENT--Seasons of Love (abbreviated slightly):
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love.
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan.
525,600 minutes - how can you measure the life of a woman or man?
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died....
It's time now to sing out, the story never ends let's celebrate
remember a year in the life of friends.
How about love! Measure in love. Seasons of love!
Into the Woods--Children Will Listen (abbreviated slightly):
How do you say to your child in the night?
Nothing's all black, but then nothing's all white
How do you say it will all be all right
When you know that it might not be true?
What do you do?
Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"
Children will listen
Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen
How can you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight
Won't be misunderstood
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in it's head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful what you say
Children will listen
Careful you do it too
Children will see
And learn, oh guide them that step away
Children will glisten
Tample with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Spring?
Spring is the time for new growth and regeneration--and floods, I guess, when you live in mid-MO! Flooding was not something I ever really knew anything about before I moved here, or rain without "severe weather warnings." Back east, you could count on spring thunderstorms and we loved them! You could sit outside and watch the amazing natural light show, get soaked, and appreciate the fact that everything would sparkle in the morning. Once we moved to Missouri, we learned that rain is seldom a cleansing shower, it is a fear invoking, life threatening ordeal.
That has changed lately. In the last couple years, we've had a lot of regular rain. This year, it seems it doesn't really want to stop. But that's life isn't it? You never get what you expect because as soon as you think you have some kind of nice normal pattern, something or someone throws a wrench in the whole darn plan! So you learn to appreciate the changes and the surprise and new experiences they might bring, or mourn what you've lost.
So we come into this spring with a new appreciation for life and newness and how things can turn on a dime, but dreary storms can bring a new sheen to situations that once looked quite muddy and unattractive. Monday Bo has his quarterly scans and we have no reason to think everything won't be well, but it will represent almost a year since we started out little cancer trip and the start of what we hope will be a nice normal summer for Bo. But we'll let y'all know after we get the results on Monday.
Have a great spring! Lisa
That has changed lately. In the last couple years, we've had a lot of regular rain. This year, it seems it doesn't really want to stop. But that's life isn't it? You never get what you expect because as soon as you think you have some kind of nice normal pattern, something or someone throws a wrench in the whole darn plan! So you learn to appreciate the changes and the surprise and new experiences they might bring, or mourn what you've lost.
So we come into this spring with a new appreciation for life and newness and how things can turn on a dime, but dreary storms can bring a new sheen to situations that once looked quite muddy and unattractive. Monday Bo has his quarterly scans and we have no reason to think everything won't be well, but it will represent almost a year since we started out little cancer trip and the start of what we hope will be a nice normal summer for Bo. But we'll let y'all know after we get the results on Monday.
Have a great spring! Lisa
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Life with and without cancer...
So, it was a week, to be sure. Bo had his scans on Monday, and pre-op. The scans were clear and his procedure went as well as could be expected. He is a little sore and had to miss Show Me State Games with his basketball team, but such is life. At least his port is gone. But there was some sadness around the fact that we will no longer be able to find Bo with a metal detector--fortunately he keeps growing so chances of losing him get slimmer every day.
However, I still feel like I live in a strange cancer epicenter. We recently found out that one of Jay's colleagues has a terrible case of bile duct cancer, and a new friend of mine found out that she is facing a cancer recurrence. After six years, she must face the confusion and fear of treatment. Fighting for all the little bits of information, trying to make the best choices and understand all the options all while caring for a family and not finding the best support is not something I wish on anyone.
So, on Friday night I put the boys to bed and I cried--for closure and relief, or perhaps for mourning, maybe in grief, I'm not really sure. I just know that I have arrived at "a certain age" (I still maintain I am 32) where death and dying and family problems will be a very real part of life. It is true that without sadness, you don't get to fully appreciate the happiness, but why is it that life experiences seem to come in the wrong order? Who doesn't look back on their youth and wish that they could do it over with just a fraction of the wisdom and confidence of an adult--just live it up knowing that whatever Suzie said about you to Brian on Tuesday will not matter past Wednesday. And who doesn't wish that just a few of life's difficulties could come a little earlier so that we could be better prepared. Hell, even if I could have had allergies or knee problems earlier in life, I might have worked harder to take care of myself...well, or not...
All I know is that I will never be able to look at people the same again, for better and for worse. I much better appreciate all the trouble people carry, but I am less tolerant of selfishness. How is it that some people can't or won't come through? Why does crisis bring out the best in some and the worst in others? As our country faces what are bound to be a rough couple years, I wonder that same about all crises, not just cancer and health problems. Why are there so many people doing great things, and yet so many Madoffs who will take all they can and run. Where is the happiness in that?
Anyway, too many issues too big for me. I can't even get a couple cancer support teams running, for heaven's sake! We tried, for those of you wondering, we started a team for preteens struggling with the loss of a parent, but the bottom line is there isn't enough TIME in a week! But, now thanks to an inquiry from a kind woman named Rita in Macon (who happened to work at MODOT in what I think is the best office building ever) we are investigating the possibility of "virtual teams." Since kids are so much more comfortable online than they are even in person, there has to be a way to use Facebook, or Yahoo Groups, or even plain e-mail to facilitate online support teams.
So, we are still working on developing the Cancer Club and if anyone has any ideas, feel free to share. Hope everyone has a great Valentine's Day--I personally think the holiday is a scam, but I am very fond of chocolate strawberries from the Candy Factory and the lovely boxes of Godiva you can get on clearance the week after! Life is short, so be thankful for small graces, Lisa
However, I still feel like I live in a strange cancer epicenter. We recently found out that one of Jay's colleagues has a terrible case of bile duct cancer, and a new friend of mine found out that she is facing a cancer recurrence. After six years, she must face the confusion and fear of treatment. Fighting for all the little bits of information, trying to make the best choices and understand all the options all while caring for a family and not finding the best support is not something I wish on anyone.
So, on Friday night I put the boys to bed and I cried--for closure and relief, or perhaps for mourning, maybe in grief, I'm not really sure. I just know that I have arrived at "a certain age" (I still maintain I am 32) where death and dying and family problems will be a very real part of life. It is true that without sadness, you don't get to fully appreciate the happiness, but why is it that life experiences seem to come in the wrong order? Who doesn't look back on their youth and wish that they could do it over with just a fraction of the wisdom and confidence of an adult--just live it up knowing that whatever Suzie said about you to Brian on Tuesday will not matter past Wednesday. And who doesn't wish that just a few of life's difficulties could come a little earlier so that we could be better prepared. Hell, even if I could have had allergies or knee problems earlier in life, I might have worked harder to take care of myself...well, or not...
All I know is that I will never be able to look at people the same again, for better and for worse. I much better appreciate all the trouble people carry, but I am less tolerant of selfishness. How is it that some people can't or won't come through? Why does crisis bring out the best in some and the worst in others? As our country faces what are bound to be a rough couple years, I wonder that same about all crises, not just cancer and health problems. Why are there so many people doing great things, and yet so many Madoffs who will take all they can and run. Where is the happiness in that?
Anyway, too many issues too big for me. I can't even get a couple cancer support teams running, for heaven's sake! We tried, for those of you wondering, we started a team for preteens struggling with the loss of a parent, but the bottom line is there isn't enough TIME in a week! But, now thanks to an inquiry from a kind woman named Rita in Macon (who happened to work at MODOT in what I think is the best office building ever) we are investigating the possibility of "virtual teams." Since kids are so much more comfortable online than they are even in person, there has to be a way to use Facebook, or Yahoo Groups, or even plain e-mail to facilitate online support teams.
So, we are still working on developing the Cancer Club and if anyone has any ideas, feel free to share. Hope everyone has a great Valentine's Day--I personally think the holiday is a scam, but I am very fond of chocolate strawberries from the Candy Factory and the lovely boxes of Godiva you can get on clearance the week after! Life is short, so be thankful for small graces, Lisa
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Scheduled to be Deported
That's right, while he is not an illegal immigrant, Bo will be deported on Friday, February 6th. He will go in for scans on Monday, and do all his pre-op, then if everything is clear, and we expect it to be, he will report on Friday at 5:30 for 7:00 surgery. The removal should only take 30-40 minutes, then when he is awake and taking fluids he gets to go home. The end of a long year will soon be here. I may blog more later, but now I have to go work! Have a great day, Lisa
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Thankful Season
Bah humbug--I'm a Scrooge! I don't understand how Black Friday shopping got all mixed up with the virgin birth of the father of Christianity. I think a few years of working retail cured me of any former love and fascination with the winter holidays. Or, on second thought, maybe it was the Christmas I scratched my cornea decorating the tree and I had to drive myself to the hospital in the middle of the night but the pain was so bad I had to pull over to throw up--no I am pretty sure it was retail.
I worked at Marshall Fields, in china and gourmet the Christmas I was pregnant with Pierce, a job I did for several years and LOVED until that particular Xmas season. Besides the usual crabby customers and merchandise mix-ups, that year there was the day that I was fully eight months pregnant helping a customer who had purchased pillows. While she was in line in our department she decided she needed a box, but she and her companion also decided they needed to go back and get the matching pillow since it was likely it would be gone if the recipient decided they needed two after the holidays(this was a decorative pillow, so supply was always uncertain). I told her that while I was perfectly willing to get a box, if they were going back over there, it would be easier for all concerned, especially the other ten customers in line, for them to get a box while purchasing the second pillow because I would also have to go all the way over there to find a box that big. Well, this woman looked at me up and down and said "it's probably better that you go get the box since you obviously need the exercise." Mind you, each of my children gave me ten pounds I have never been able to lose so someone might fairly say that to me now, but I was in great shape at that point in my life, but HELLO, I was eight months pregnant and my only concession to getting larger was size 10 clothes versus the 6s I was wearing previously. I was hardly fat, and even if I was, who was she to tell me I needed exercise? Then there was the horrible woman who insisted that I find some obscure piece of holiday china that she had to have right that moment which required me to climb to the very top of the seven foot ladder in the storage room and perch precariously over the shelf, again while eight months pregnant!
This year we are hosting Jay's colleagues at our house for a holiday party. This will not be a big to-do since I know and love all of them, and they know us and our common existence with our very bad dogs and two children, but there has been a lot of work we have needed to finish on our house and my beloved decided we should finish it before the party on Sunday. So, we are painting. We finally removed the blinds Homer destroyed (that's also another story that is worth telling someday, but in summary I personally KNOW someone that was featured on America's Most Wanted--how's that for a teaser?) and painted the window frames that have been hidden for at least 10, but more like 30 years... Oh, and then there is the matter of what used to be the "playroom" that I so lovingly decorated for my babies that Bo now calls his room--that he wanted Tiger Gold. Anyone considering Tiger Gold may want to visit our house before purchasing paint--it is SOME color, that is all I can say.
So between horrible memories of holiday retail, a dog that loves poopsicles, painting--which I HATE, and our Christmas decorations in a half-done state, I am not lovin' the holiday season. But, it is not only the season of rampant commercialization, hyperbolic consumerism and wanton greed, it is also a season of faith, love and thankfulness--that I get. So I wanted to share my top ten list of things for which I am thankful!
1. Pathologists, oncologists, nurses and other health professionals
2. Friends, both known and unknown who hold you up when you need it most
3. Farmers and all the people who perform daily hard labor with little recognition
4. Voters, no matter who they voted for--for keeping the dream alive
5. Teachers and coaches who give their lives to shape the lives of others
6. Emergency service professionals who risk their lives for our safety
7. Dogs, even the ones who eat poopsicles, for making life a little lighter
8. Patrons of the arts who maintain our culture, especially in tough times
9. My Super Suppers colleagues for making it a joy to be a small business owner
10. Jay, Pierce and Bo, for making life worth living, even in the dark hours
I hope everyone takes some time to appreciate what we all have, even when the economy is at its worst, we will still have more than so many and we must never forget the pains it took to achieve. Have a wonderful holiday season, filled with love and laughter, skip the stores, all the stuff is cheaper in January anyway. With love, Lisa
I worked at Marshall Fields, in china and gourmet the Christmas I was pregnant with Pierce, a job I did for several years and LOVED until that particular Xmas season. Besides the usual crabby customers and merchandise mix-ups, that year there was the day that I was fully eight months pregnant helping a customer who had purchased pillows. While she was in line in our department she decided she needed a box, but she and her companion also decided they needed to go back and get the matching pillow since it was likely it would be gone if the recipient decided they needed two after the holidays(this was a decorative pillow, so supply was always uncertain). I told her that while I was perfectly willing to get a box, if they were going back over there, it would be easier for all concerned, especially the other ten customers in line, for them to get a box while purchasing the second pillow because I would also have to go all the way over there to find a box that big. Well, this woman looked at me up and down and said "it's probably better that you go get the box since you obviously need the exercise." Mind you, each of my children gave me ten pounds I have never been able to lose so someone might fairly say that to me now, but I was in great shape at that point in my life, but HELLO, I was eight months pregnant and my only concession to getting larger was size 10 clothes versus the 6s I was wearing previously. I was hardly fat, and even if I was, who was she to tell me I needed exercise? Then there was the horrible woman who insisted that I find some obscure piece of holiday china that she had to have right that moment which required me to climb to the very top of the seven foot ladder in the storage room and perch precariously over the shelf, again while eight months pregnant!
This year we are hosting Jay's colleagues at our house for a holiday party. This will not be a big to-do since I know and love all of them, and they know us and our common existence with our very bad dogs and two children, but there has been a lot of work we have needed to finish on our house and my beloved decided we should finish it before the party on Sunday. So, we are painting. We finally removed the blinds Homer destroyed (that's also another story that is worth telling someday, but in summary I personally KNOW someone that was featured on America's Most Wanted--how's that for a teaser?) and painted the window frames that have been hidden for at least 10, but more like 30 years... Oh, and then there is the matter of what used to be the "playroom" that I so lovingly decorated for my babies that Bo now calls his room--that he wanted Tiger Gold. Anyone considering Tiger Gold may want to visit our house before purchasing paint--it is SOME color, that is all I can say.
So between horrible memories of holiday retail, a dog that loves poopsicles, painting--which I HATE, and our Christmas decorations in a half-done state, I am not lovin' the holiday season. But, it is not only the season of rampant commercialization, hyperbolic consumerism and wanton greed, it is also a season of faith, love and thankfulness--that I get. So I wanted to share my top ten list of things for which I am thankful!
1. Pathologists, oncologists, nurses and other health professionals
2. Friends, both known and unknown who hold you up when you need it most
3. Farmers and all the people who perform daily hard labor with little recognition
4. Voters, no matter who they voted for--for keeping the dream alive
5. Teachers and coaches who give their lives to shape the lives of others
6. Emergency service professionals who risk their lives for our safety
7. Dogs, even the ones who eat poopsicles, for making life a little lighter
8. Patrons of the arts who maintain our culture, especially in tough times
9. My Super Suppers colleagues for making it a joy to be a small business owner
10. Jay, Pierce and Bo, for making life worth living, even in the dark hours
I hope everyone takes some time to appreciate what we all have, even when the economy is at its worst, we will still have more than so many and we must never forget the pains it took to achieve. Have a wonderful holiday season, filled with love and laughter, skip the stores, all the stuff is cheaper in January anyway. With love, Lisa
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Just When You Think It Can't Get Worse...
Life delivers punches every day. You learn to roll with the little ones, but every now and then you get knocked down. All are well here in mid-MO, despite the fact that a very nice young college student totalled our car yesterday. More on that in a minute, but I can't stop thinking about how a little punch to one person can be a real knock out for another. With the economy the way it is, so many people are one little car accident or brush fire or illness away from financial tragedy. How in the world is our new President and Congress going to fix the mess we've gotten ourselves into?
For those who know Columbia, just after it started to pour yesterday, we were headed to Robotics, driving down Forum, starting to go up the hill, and I thought to myself, I have to be very careful and pay attention to the drivers coming down the hill, and not a second later, I saw headlights coming straight for me. I drove onto the shoulder but resisted driving onto the grass since I was not sure how much room there was to drive safely. Just when I thought I might avoid an accident, I felt the hard crack and saw myself go spinning. I have never been more relieved to hear my kids scream. It meant they were both alive, but I felt a small panic knowing that she hit me right in the gas tank, then remembered I had been driving on empty all day...
So many things for which to be thankful. Thankful no one was hurt, actually somewhat thankful sbe hit us and not a tree, because as fast as she was sliding, she might not have survived, thankful I never stopped to put gas in my car, thankful I never cancelled my collision coverage, and thankful that this little accident won't put me over the edge. But, as a business owner, I have become more cognizant of those who are so close to the edge. There are probably a hundred people I know personally who would be devastated to lose a car. We had the luxury of three, so while my life gets a little more inconvenient, we will survive. And I am more than a little annoyed that that car was worth way more to me than the $2000 or so the insurance company will honor, but I am not going to lose a job or life over that loss.
In this month of thanks giving and the season of giving, take more than a minute to give thanks for everything you have, no matter how meager it seems. Make amends with a loved one and do a good deed. Pay it forward as much as you can since you never know if that knockout punch might be the next one. But also think about giving with meaning. We all need to curb the excessive materialistic tendencies we have nurtured for a decade and know that times are tough and will probably get tougher. Give from the heart and give where it can make the most difference. With lots of love and even more appreciation of life, Lisa
For those who know Columbia, just after it started to pour yesterday, we were headed to Robotics, driving down Forum, starting to go up the hill, and I thought to myself, I have to be very careful and pay attention to the drivers coming down the hill, and not a second later, I saw headlights coming straight for me. I drove onto the shoulder but resisted driving onto the grass since I was not sure how much room there was to drive safely. Just when I thought I might avoid an accident, I felt the hard crack and saw myself go spinning. I have never been more relieved to hear my kids scream. It meant they were both alive, but I felt a small panic knowing that she hit me right in the gas tank, then remembered I had been driving on empty all day...
So many things for which to be thankful. Thankful no one was hurt, actually somewhat thankful sbe hit us and not a tree, because as fast as she was sliding, she might not have survived, thankful I never stopped to put gas in my car, thankful I never cancelled my collision coverage, and thankful that this little accident won't put me over the edge. But, as a business owner, I have become more cognizant of those who are so close to the edge. There are probably a hundred people I know personally who would be devastated to lose a car. We had the luxury of three, so while my life gets a little more inconvenient, we will survive. And I am more than a little annoyed that that car was worth way more to me than the $2000 or so the insurance company will honor, but I am not going to lose a job or life over that loss.
In this month of thanks giving and the season of giving, take more than a minute to give thanks for everything you have, no matter how meager it seems. Make amends with a loved one and do a good deed. Pay it forward as much as you can since you never know if that knockout punch might be the next one. But also think about giving with meaning. We all need to curb the excessive materialistic tendencies we have nurtured for a decade and know that times are tough and will probably get tougher. Give from the heart and give where it can make the most difference. With lots of love and even more appreciation of life, Lisa
Monday, November 10, 2008
Free (or very cheap) Tickets!
In case you didn't know, Super Suppers is a sponsor of KBIA and the University Concert Series. We love the Concert series and have always been supporters. Donors are treated to a reception before most events, and we cater about three of these a year.
Our sponsored show this year is Sweeney Todd which is this coming Thursday, so we will be catering--Thanksgiving dinner will be the menu, and it should be scrumptious--I haven't fouled one up, yet and we have always gotten rave reviews, but you know, there is a first time for everything and I am not immune to mistakes! But really, I have at least four extra tickets to that show and the reception, plus four tickets to both the MU Choral Union: Gloria Thursday, November 20th, and Nebraska Theatre Caravan: A Christmas Carol, Thursday, December 4. Call or e-mail if you want them! You can have them, or if you are so inclined, you may make a donation to the Cancer Club--our first group is going well, and we hope to add more when we can! Stay warm and dry, Lisa
Our sponsored show this year is Sweeney Todd which is this coming Thursday, so we will be catering--Thanksgiving dinner will be the menu, and it should be scrumptious--I haven't fouled one up, yet and we have always gotten rave reviews, but you know, there is a first time for everything and I am not immune to mistakes! But really, I have at least four extra tickets to that show and the reception, plus four tickets to both the MU Choral Union: Gloria Thursday, November 20th, and Nebraska Theatre Caravan: A Christmas Carol, Thursday, December 4. Call or e-mail if you want them! You can have them, or if you are so inclined, you may make a donation to the Cancer Club--our first group is going well, and we hope to add more when we can! Stay warm and dry, Lisa
Thursday, October 23, 2008
When is "just a lump" not "just a lump?"
Well when you've had a cancer diagnosis of course! I felt like I had finally gotten over the bizarreness of the summer when Bo started complaining about a lump under his tongue. So, remember the whole thing about his condition, whatever it is, is related to common salivary gland tumors, both malignant and benign. Wanting someone to check it, but not wanting to overreact, I called our dentist. I adore my dentist, but I admit I am still a little annoyed. He immediately referred us to a world-class surgical oncologist and made us spend a good solid weekend worrying. Of course by Monday we went back to the dentist who concluded that it was "just a lump," a common canker sore, to be specific, and it was gone. The lump and swollen node he felt a few days earlier were now hardly discernible. So, we still went to see the specialist on Tuesday who confirmed that everything was just fine.
But, it was not something I was prepared for, or warned about. Apparently, once you've been "marked" you no longer get to have normal ordinary ailments anymore. No doctor wants to make the call that it's "just a lump" or a sore, or anything, without referring to a specialist--CYA, I guess. I get that, and I could have expected it rationally, but I still wish I had the Dummies Guide to Cancer so I could have been properly warned that we, too, should hesistate before having every little lump or bump checked, and be prepared that every wart will be examined by an oncologist. Okay, I know that's an exaggeration, but it was not a fun weekend.
And on that note, our first Cancer Clubs will meet on Monday, October 27th, at 6:30, at Bethel Church. The kids' club will be for kids who have lost a parent to cancer. Our known attendees will be aged 10-14, but kids slightly older or younger are welcome to attend and we will break them up when we have enough members to form two groups. At the same time, the parents of these great kids will meet at a place in the building, or close by, where they too, can process their experiences--maybe the output from all our groups will be the true Dummies Guide to Surviving Cancer. If any of our Columbia friends want more information, feel free to contact me at thecancerclub@aol.com, or 573.268.4766!
Advertising these groups has truly been a rewarding labor of love. I have never felt so lucky to be working. Finding my way around the downtown churches was quite an adventure, but with the exception of one elementary school, people were so thankful and wonderful. I think being a kid is pretty darn hard, period, but being a kid that has to face such a huge loss, to put it bluntly, just sucks, and so if we can help even one kid have an easier time making lemonade out of life's lemons, I will have led a good life! So, back to making my own lemonade out of my crazy business... With love, Lisa
But, it was not something I was prepared for, or warned about. Apparently, once you've been "marked" you no longer get to have normal ordinary ailments anymore. No doctor wants to make the call that it's "just a lump" or a sore, or anything, without referring to a specialist--CYA, I guess. I get that, and I could have expected it rationally, but I still wish I had the Dummies Guide to Cancer so I could have been properly warned that we, too, should hesistate before having every little lump or bump checked, and be prepared that every wart will be examined by an oncologist. Okay, I know that's an exaggeration, but it was not a fun weekend.
And on that note, our first Cancer Clubs will meet on Monday, October 27th, at 6:30, at Bethel Church. The kids' club will be for kids who have lost a parent to cancer. Our known attendees will be aged 10-14, but kids slightly older or younger are welcome to attend and we will break them up when we have enough members to form two groups. At the same time, the parents of these great kids will meet at a place in the building, or close by, where they too, can process their experiences--maybe the output from all our groups will be the true Dummies Guide to Surviving Cancer. If any of our Columbia friends want more information, feel free to contact me at thecancerclub@aol.com, or 573.268.4766!
Advertising these groups has truly been a rewarding labor of love. I have never felt so lucky to be working. Finding my way around the downtown churches was quite an adventure, but with the exception of one elementary school, people were so thankful and wonderful. I think being a kid is pretty darn hard, period, but being a kid that has to face such a huge loss, to put it bluntly, just sucks, and so if we can help even one kid have an easier time making lemonade out of life's lemons, I will have led a good life! So, back to making my own lemonade out of my crazy business... With love, Lisa
Friday, October 10, 2008
What do YOU do With Your Pain?
So, I have been processing a lot of things lately. I have had the time to step away from the summer and the pain and the fear and just think about what it all means. I have also been reading--yes, I know that scares you all, but reading is therapeutic for me. I have read a lot of books lately, Anne Lamott-Grace (Eventually), Glass Castle, a history of the Mormon church, and a bunch of other stuff, plus talking to people who might benefit or help in the development of our cancer center, and it got me thinking.
We all have pain in our hearts, maybe from childhood--mean kids at school, parents who always seemed to want that little extra, no matter how good you did, maybe it's from a current relationship, personal or business where you give a LOT more than you get, maybe it is children, who, for reasons you may never understand do not have the same relationship with you that you desire. Or, perhaps, you are the one in a million that has never experienced pain. In either case, what do you do with that? If your psyche is a suitcase, and all your "stuff" is packed in there, is it neat and tidy, is it really big and heavy, or do you disguise it with a mental "tablecloth" to make it prettier? Where does your baggage take you?
I have pain. I can admit that. It doesn't matter where it comes from--a large part of it has to do with being a "weird" and ugly kid and I can tell you if you really want to know--but what really matters is what I do with it. So many people carry their suitcase like a weapon, swinging it around and making sure no one gets close. A lot of people use it as a shield, so that no one gets close enough to look inside. Others hide it and pretend they don't have a suitcase, even though other people can feel that you seem to live in a big tent. I am sure I can't tell you what is in the bottom of my suitcase, but I do know that in many ways it sustains me. The fact that I know pain is what allows me to see the pain in others and try my very best to alleviate some of it, with all the power I have. I have learned that I am not very good at making money. But today when a customer told me that when she left last weekend and I told her to "enjoy her guests" and it resonated with her all weekend because, thanks to us, she WAS able to enjoy her guests, that sustains me.
I was raised a Lutheran and the major philosophical difference Martin Luther had with the Catholic Church was the notion that God's love is grace freely given--that we don't have to do lots of stuff to get it--but the corollary is that to whom much is given, much is expected. And I know that whatever pain I have experienced, there are others who have endured much more, and I have been given many gifts that I am obligated to share with others. I have been given health, a tiny bit of wealth (but since the DOW dropped another several hundred points today, it's a lot less than I wish!), a decent amount of intelligence and thanks to what is probably undiagnosed ADHD, a LOT of energy.
What do you do with your pain? Do you wallow in it, hide it, let it make you angry or distant and detached from others? I have done all of the above, sometimes. And sometimes the unproductive things feel good. I have spent the better part of the last day exuding vile rants on my corporate bulletin board because of some ridiculous changes they want to make--yeah, it kind of felt good, but then I tried to counter some of it by posting a few positive things that we have learned lately. It is good to work out that pain in the gym, that is way productive, and I have not done that nearly enough lately.
But the best way to channel pain is into preventing it. How can you use your gifts to improve the lives of everyone around you. If oyu have never read The Fred Factor, that's a good one to try, too. Fred was a mailman who made a difference just by being a mailman. We all have the power to make the world a better place and if we took just one capful of positive energy every day and pour it into the vat of humanity, we can make a great stew. Researching this cancer support center has nourished and energized me in ways I never imagined--then I got a cold, but I am pretty sure that's temporary and I am looking forward to moving onto great things. The weather in mid-MO has been phenomenal lately, I hope everyone is taking advantage, with love, Lisa
We all have pain in our hearts, maybe from childhood--mean kids at school, parents who always seemed to want that little extra, no matter how good you did, maybe it's from a current relationship, personal or business where you give a LOT more than you get, maybe it is children, who, for reasons you may never understand do not have the same relationship with you that you desire. Or, perhaps, you are the one in a million that has never experienced pain. In either case, what do you do with that? If your psyche is a suitcase, and all your "stuff" is packed in there, is it neat and tidy, is it really big and heavy, or do you disguise it with a mental "tablecloth" to make it prettier? Where does your baggage take you?
I have pain. I can admit that. It doesn't matter where it comes from--a large part of it has to do with being a "weird" and ugly kid and I can tell you if you really want to know--but what really matters is what I do with it. So many people carry their suitcase like a weapon, swinging it around and making sure no one gets close. A lot of people use it as a shield, so that no one gets close enough to look inside. Others hide it and pretend they don't have a suitcase, even though other people can feel that you seem to live in a big tent. I am sure I can't tell you what is in the bottom of my suitcase, but I do know that in many ways it sustains me. The fact that I know pain is what allows me to see the pain in others and try my very best to alleviate some of it, with all the power I have. I have learned that I am not very good at making money. But today when a customer told me that when she left last weekend and I told her to "enjoy her guests" and it resonated with her all weekend because, thanks to us, she WAS able to enjoy her guests, that sustains me.
I was raised a Lutheran and the major philosophical difference Martin Luther had with the Catholic Church was the notion that God's love is grace freely given--that we don't have to do lots of stuff to get it--but the corollary is that to whom much is given, much is expected. And I know that whatever pain I have experienced, there are others who have endured much more, and I have been given many gifts that I am obligated to share with others. I have been given health, a tiny bit of wealth (but since the DOW dropped another several hundred points today, it's a lot less than I wish!), a decent amount of intelligence and thanks to what is probably undiagnosed ADHD, a LOT of energy.
What do you do with your pain? Do you wallow in it, hide it, let it make you angry or distant and detached from others? I have done all of the above, sometimes. And sometimes the unproductive things feel good. I have spent the better part of the last day exuding vile rants on my corporate bulletin board because of some ridiculous changes they want to make--yeah, it kind of felt good, but then I tried to counter some of it by posting a few positive things that we have learned lately. It is good to work out that pain in the gym, that is way productive, and I have not done that nearly enough lately.
But the best way to channel pain is into preventing it. How can you use your gifts to improve the lives of everyone around you. If oyu have never read The Fred Factor, that's a good one to try, too. Fred was a mailman who made a difference just by being a mailman. We all have the power to make the world a better place and if we took just one capful of positive energy every day and pour it into the vat of humanity, we can make a great stew. Researching this cancer support center has nourished and energized me in ways I never imagined--then I got a cold, but I am pretty sure that's temporary and I am looking forward to moving onto great things. The weather in mid-MO has been phenomenal lately, I hope everyone is taking advantage, with love, Lisa
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Answer
When you seek your destiny the universe conspires to assist. I believe that and knew that if I waited, the answer would just come. And so I think it has. Columbia, and in fact, the whole world, needs a system of integrated Cancer Centers. A place where people go to get support--whether it is information, financial, or especially emotional. I think when the idea comes to it's true fruition, it will be a physical place, but for now, a network of support groups would be a good place to start.
We had the privilege last week of attending a tailgate and the MU game for Childhood Cancer Awareness Days. It was a small group--it was raining--but it was very comfortable to be in a crowd of people who all "got it." To see kids in the battle, graduates, nurses, doctors, and everyone else all there for the same reason meant we didn't have to talk about it, or explain, but we could just have fun. But the whole time my thoughts were on the family of a friend who has had to contend with the loss of a father to cancer, a sudden death of a grandfather, and the loss of a pigeon and a dog, all in a span of about two months.
The one thought that kept resonating in my head, though was that Bonnie's beautiful daughter made her go get a mammogram because she did not want to lose two parents to cancer. How powerful is that? How scary is it for anyone to know that they could lose everyone to the same dreaded cause? It's possible, but we don't think that way. We could have lost a son this summer to cancer, not something I ever thought of even on my most dreary day. Car accident, freak baseball or pool accident, even choking, but not cancer at the age of ten. But kids who lose someone to cancer might fear it forever, and people shouldn't have to live in fear.
So we have to take the power away. Cancer is fast becoming more chronic in many of it's forms. There have been great advances in breast cancer, certain kinds of melanoma, leukemia, etc. Not enough, I would never argue that, but CANCER doesn't have to carry the same power it did even ten years ago. But when I started thinking about it, about all the people who told me their stories and told me that my blog is therapeutic--I thought, how is it that there isn't an organized network of support for all the people touched by cancer? By doing that, and sharing the wealth of information and giving people a place to go, first virtual, then hopefully real physical places, everywhere, like Ronald McDonald Houses for cancer, we can take the negative energy associated with cancer and turn it into a positive force of hope.
That's the plan, feedback is good, volunteers are great, and a NAME would be wonderful. My first thought that grew out of thinking about Bonnie's daughter was that people who take this journey need to know that they will NEVER BE ALONE, but there are lot's of organizations with names like that. I also thought about hope and that if we want to have support groups for kids, and we want people to think good thoughts about this place, it needs to have a more inspirational name. I thought about Hope House, Hope's Place, but those names are also overused. My current thinking is that in the spirit of The Vagina Monologues, we should just call it The Cancer Club because that's what it is and it begins the process of stealing the power. It may be a Club no one ever wanted to join, but the reality is that we are all already members--by virtue of being touched by the condition, you could benefit from the service we might offer.
But anyway, I am so incredibly busy, the store is busy and everything in our house seems to be breaking at the same time, so I am spending a lot of time at Lowe's. Plus, school year activities are in full swing--orchestra, Robotics, a new competitive basketball team for Bo, confirmation for Pierce, all has me drowning in paper and events! I need to make many more posts, but I wanted to put that thought out to get some feedback, and to help us with our first goal.
If anyone in the Columbia area knows any kids (perhaps, 8-12 or 13) who have recently lost a parent to cancer who might be interested in getting together with other kids in a similar situation for support, and even some fun, let me know ASAP. You can e-mail me at lwscribner, or call--I am at the store most of the time, 573.446.1823. We have trained psychologists and social workers that have agreed to help us, and we hope to expand to offer more groups, so if you have thoughts on that, let me know that as well. That's all for now, but we are really excited about this project and hope you are, too! With love, Lisa
We had the privilege last week of attending a tailgate and the MU game for Childhood Cancer Awareness Days. It was a small group--it was raining--but it was very comfortable to be in a crowd of people who all "got it." To see kids in the battle, graduates, nurses, doctors, and everyone else all there for the same reason meant we didn't have to talk about it, or explain, but we could just have fun. But the whole time my thoughts were on the family of a friend who has had to contend with the loss of a father to cancer, a sudden death of a grandfather, and the loss of a pigeon and a dog, all in a span of about two months.
The one thought that kept resonating in my head, though was that Bonnie's beautiful daughter made her go get a mammogram because she did not want to lose two parents to cancer. How powerful is that? How scary is it for anyone to know that they could lose everyone to the same dreaded cause? It's possible, but we don't think that way. We could have lost a son this summer to cancer, not something I ever thought of even on my most dreary day. Car accident, freak baseball or pool accident, even choking, but not cancer at the age of ten. But kids who lose someone to cancer might fear it forever, and people shouldn't have to live in fear.
So we have to take the power away. Cancer is fast becoming more chronic in many of it's forms. There have been great advances in breast cancer, certain kinds of melanoma, leukemia, etc. Not enough, I would never argue that, but CANCER doesn't have to carry the same power it did even ten years ago. But when I started thinking about it, about all the people who told me their stories and told me that my blog is therapeutic--I thought, how is it that there isn't an organized network of support for all the people touched by cancer? By doing that, and sharing the wealth of information and giving people a place to go, first virtual, then hopefully real physical places, everywhere, like Ronald McDonald Houses for cancer, we can take the negative energy associated with cancer and turn it into a positive force of hope.
That's the plan, feedback is good, volunteers are great, and a NAME would be wonderful. My first thought that grew out of thinking about Bonnie's daughter was that people who take this journey need to know that they will NEVER BE ALONE, but there are lot's of organizations with names like that. I also thought about hope and that if we want to have support groups for kids, and we want people to think good thoughts about this place, it needs to have a more inspirational name. I thought about Hope House, Hope's Place, but those names are also overused. My current thinking is that in the spirit of The Vagina Monologues, we should just call it The Cancer Club because that's what it is and it begins the process of stealing the power. It may be a Club no one ever wanted to join, but the reality is that we are all already members--by virtue of being touched by the condition, you could benefit from the service we might offer.
But anyway, I am so incredibly busy, the store is busy and everything in our house seems to be breaking at the same time, so I am spending a lot of time at Lowe's. Plus, school year activities are in full swing--orchestra, Robotics, a new competitive basketball team for Bo, confirmation for Pierce, all has me drowning in paper and events! I need to make many more posts, but I wanted to put that thought out to get some feedback, and to help us with our first goal.
If anyone in the Columbia area knows any kids (perhaps, 8-12 or 13) who have recently lost a parent to cancer who might be interested in getting together with other kids in a similar situation for support, and even some fun, let me know ASAP. You can e-mail me at lwscribner, or call--I am at the store most of the time, 573.446.1823. We have trained psychologists and social workers that have agreed to help us, and we hope to expand to offer more groups, so if you have thoughts on that, let me know that as well. That's all for now, but we are really excited about this project and hope you are, too! With love, Lisa
Monday, September 15, 2008
What Now?
People have told me that they like my blog, that I am a good writer and I have helped and inspired them. That's incredibly humbling, really. I have always been a decent writer, but most of my writing has been limited to dot point summaries, memos and policy briefs--if you want to read any of them, let me know, I have a few grant applications of which I am particularly proud--a definite cure for insomnia! But everything I have ever had the privilege to write, I have written for other people. While this blog is the most selfish endeavor I have ever taken on, I have written it mostly for the people I love, to say things I could never express in real spoken words. Why is that? I never really knew until I finished The Shack, by William P. Young. So as in my last post, consider this excerpt:
[Law] grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them. You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge. Enforcing rules, especially in its more subtle expressions like responsibility and expectation, is a vain attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty… Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse…Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment, and they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for identity and value. You know what it is like not to live up to someone’s expectations… The idea behind expectations requires that someone does not know the future or outcome and is trying to control behavior to get the desired result. Humans try to control behavior largely through expectations.
What a powerful statement that is and when you think about it, and how liberating is it to think that if we all live honestly, we might be able to live without rules? Not sports, or traffic, or contract law, we have to start with the basics--the rules that govern our relationships and expectations for each other. Tracy commented here that she could never write like I do, but why not? I think we all have the ability to write when we have something to say. When the life of someone you love more than life itself is at stake, and your heart breaks in a way that makes you immune to shame and ridicule and you can just let your heart speak in a way your head can't or won't, I think we all can write. Because then, we can forget the rules, forget bad grammar and spelling and punctuation. When it's life and death, it's not about being proper anymore, it's about being, just being.
If we could all live believing that we all have the best intentions for everyone, Tracy could write what she needs to without feeling judgment by herself or anyone else. And if we get really good at it, we could even speak that way. Why is it that we tend to appreciate eachother most at the end--the end of a job, the end of a vacation, the end of a life? Pastor Paul was preaching Romans 12 this month, my favorite chapter. In it we learn that we have all been given unique gifts but that together, we form humanity, not one of us alone, or even a few, it takes ALL the gifts, but what are our gifts and how are we supposed to use them? I always tell customers at the store that we are here to take care of food so that they can take care of all the things that are really important to them and that there is no guilt in needing help since we all can't be good at everything.
So, I have struggled with this blog. Should, I keep writing? I love thinking that I can do something that helps someone, but I am really not a writer, and so having fulfilled my selfish purpose, should I stop? I only wish I was someone like Stephen King who has stories that just tumble out of his head. My new favorite is Anne Lamott, and of course who can forget JK Rowling? Then there are the historical greats, Emerson, Whitman, Blake, Dumas, and the playwrights, too. Great writers are amazing people, and I am not one of them, to be sure.
So, lacking sories to tell, hopefully lacking any news on Bo's health, I need a new reason to write. I don't presume anyone will stay and read, but I will write until we figure out where this journey is supposed to end. I will write about my struggle to make something out of the gifts I have been given, and hopefully in writing, I will find others who can help make sense of all our paths, where our collective gifts can come together to make great things happen! But, now that I am not writing out of desperation, I feel myself reverting to judgment and expectation. I am not a great writer, or even a good one and I don't have anything to say. I keep writing and editing and editing and deleting... So for now, I will stop and just publish my random musings. I think in my next post I will tell you about the book I have wanted to write since starting a business! Have a great week, Lisa
[Law] grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them. You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge. Enforcing rules, especially in its more subtle expressions like responsibility and expectation, is a vain attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty… Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse…Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment, and they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for identity and value. You know what it is like not to live up to someone’s expectations… The idea behind expectations requires that someone does not know the future or outcome and is trying to control behavior to get the desired result. Humans try to control behavior largely through expectations.
What a powerful statement that is and when you think about it, and how liberating is it to think that if we all live honestly, we might be able to live without rules? Not sports, or traffic, or contract law, we have to start with the basics--the rules that govern our relationships and expectations for each other. Tracy commented here that she could never write like I do, but why not? I think we all have the ability to write when we have something to say. When the life of someone you love more than life itself is at stake, and your heart breaks in a way that makes you immune to shame and ridicule and you can just let your heart speak in a way your head can't or won't, I think we all can write. Because then, we can forget the rules, forget bad grammar and spelling and punctuation. When it's life and death, it's not about being proper anymore, it's about being, just being.
If we could all live believing that we all have the best intentions for everyone, Tracy could write what she needs to without feeling judgment by herself or anyone else. And if we get really good at it, we could even speak that way. Why is it that we tend to appreciate eachother most at the end--the end of a job, the end of a vacation, the end of a life? Pastor Paul was preaching Romans 12 this month, my favorite chapter. In it we learn that we have all been given unique gifts but that together, we form humanity, not one of us alone, or even a few, it takes ALL the gifts, but what are our gifts and how are we supposed to use them? I always tell customers at the store that we are here to take care of food so that they can take care of all the things that are really important to them and that there is no guilt in needing help since we all can't be good at everything.
So, I have struggled with this blog. Should, I keep writing? I love thinking that I can do something that helps someone, but I am really not a writer, and so having fulfilled my selfish purpose, should I stop? I only wish I was someone like Stephen King who has stories that just tumble out of his head. My new favorite is Anne Lamott, and of course who can forget JK Rowling? Then there are the historical greats, Emerson, Whitman, Blake, Dumas, and the playwrights, too. Great writers are amazing people, and I am not one of them, to be sure.
So, lacking sories to tell, hopefully lacking any news on Bo's health, I need a new reason to write. I don't presume anyone will stay and read, but I will write until we figure out where this journey is supposed to end. I will write about my struggle to make something out of the gifts I have been given, and hopefully in writing, I will find others who can help make sense of all our paths, where our collective gifts can come together to make great things happen! But, now that I am not writing out of desperation, I feel myself reverting to judgment and expectation. I am not a great writer, or even a good one and I don't have anything to say. I keep writing and editing and editing and deleting... So for now, I will stop and just publish my random musings. I think in my next post I will tell you about the book I have wanted to write since starting a business! Have a great week, Lisa
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I Forgot About The Party!
So, I never gave anyone an update on Bo's Strike Out Cancer Party. First, I'll do that, then I will tell you why. The party was awesome. I think Bo had a great time. All his best buds, new and old came out to have fun with him. I think we had about 80 or so people there for at least part of the time. About half bowled, but I think EVERYONE ate cake and loved it! A friend gave Bo the best card ever, on the front was a VERY FAT orange striped cat, and on the inside it said "Do you think they'll notice the cake is gone." At one point we had seven lanes going, and we are so glad that so many people came out to be with us. The staff at AMF was terrific, brought us lots of soda and popcorn and we fed them cake, too. It was a great day, but for a few things...
One of our new friends, Bonnie--her kids are the same age as ours, same classes as our kids at school last year--lost her husband to cancer in the week before our party. We were so glad to have them there, but the reality of her loss and seeing her in all her beauty and bravery, but also seeing the sadness in Judson and Sophia was more than a little heart breaking. Jay and I both still sometimes get overwhelmed when we think that we dodged a bullet by a hair and feel very deeply for those who don't.
Also, in the preparations for the party, we were trying to get all our thank you notes done. That exercise has been the hardest part of this whole journey, surprisingly. We knew we might see people at the party whose addresses we never managed to save in a reliable place, and there were a few we wanted to hand deliver. But in order to do that, we had to go back through all the things we did keep, try to organize them. Also, actually read many of the for the first time. And I don't mean that like it sounds. We read every card and e-mail, listened to every phone message when they arrived, but I think a lot of them got lost in the fog. A lot of them I only remembered after reading them the second time, but with that second reading, I also remembered the day they came and the feeling I had the first time.
The cascade of emotion that has accompanied writing thank you notes has been very difficult. It has been sad, but it is also just so overwhelming to process that much love and fear and hope and strength all at one time. It is also so overwhelming when you realize there is just no way to thank people. Even just trying to list everyone is difficult--I feel like I should thank the nice woman at the hospital registration desk who checked us in so many days at 6:00 in the morning with a cheerful smile and an encouraging word. But, unfortunately my handwriting is bad on a good day and the first 50 recipients may be lucky enough to read theirs, the next 100 will be questionable, and at some point the returns are diminished enough to make the effort worthless!
So these last few weeks have in some ways been harder than the first few. In the thick of things we were fighting for a purpose. Every minute, every breath was spentin trying to get the best diagnosis and treatment for Bo. But now, what is our purpose? Hence my voracious reading of books like The Shack, Grace (Eventually), and others too many to name. I keep looking for a purpose. Somehow the universe has given us a gift, the Runs for Bo Fund, especially is meant to serve us in a larger way. We have given all our lives and now it was our turn to receive, and we hope to do so gracefully, acknowledge those gifts the best we can, but keep the cycle going--and in that we will find peace with our experience.
But the party was awesome, something we will repeat again sometime. It is great to have an open party and just see who comes. The expectancy of it all was great. Parties too often get caught up in the rules and expectations of friendship and manners and all that unfun stuff, so this was a welcome diversion, just fun after a not-so-fun summer! Thanks to everyone who came out to help Bo celebrate his burthday and end-of-therapy and thanks to all those who couldn't come but thought about us, anyway! With love, Lisa
One of our new friends, Bonnie--her kids are the same age as ours, same classes as our kids at school last year--lost her husband to cancer in the week before our party. We were so glad to have them there, but the reality of her loss and seeing her in all her beauty and bravery, but also seeing the sadness in Judson and Sophia was more than a little heart breaking. Jay and I both still sometimes get overwhelmed when we think that we dodged a bullet by a hair and feel very deeply for those who don't.
Also, in the preparations for the party, we were trying to get all our thank you notes done. That exercise has been the hardest part of this whole journey, surprisingly. We knew we might see people at the party whose addresses we never managed to save in a reliable place, and there were a few we wanted to hand deliver. But in order to do that, we had to go back through all the things we did keep, try to organize them. Also, actually read many of the for the first time. And I don't mean that like it sounds. We read every card and e-mail, listened to every phone message when they arrived, but I think a lot of them got lost in the fog. A lot of them I only remembered after reading them the second time, but with that second reading, I also remembered the day they came and the feeling I had the first time.
The cascade of emotion that has accompanied writing thank you notes has been very difficult. It has been sad, but it is also just so overwhelming to process that much love and fear and hope and strength all at one time. It is also so overwhelming when you realize there is just no way to thank people. Even just trying to list everyone is difficult--I feel like I should thank the nice woman at the hospital registration desk who checked us in so many days at 6:00 in the morning with a cheerful smile and an encouraging word. But, unfortunately my handwriting is bad on a good day and the first 50 recipients may be lucky enough to read theirs, the next 100 will be questionable, and at some point the returns are diminished enough to make the effort worthless!
So these last few weeks have in some ways been harder than the first few. In the thick of things we were fighting for a purpose. Every minute, every breath was spentin trying to get the best diagnosis and treatment for Bo. But now, what is our purpose? Hence my voracious reading of books like The Shack, Grace (Eventually), and others too many to name. I keep looking for a purpose. Somehow the universe has given us a gift, the Runs for Bo Fund, especially is meant to serve us in a larger way. We have given all our lives and now it was our turn to receive, and we hope to do so gracefully, acknowledge those gifts the best we can, but keep the cycle going--and in that we will find peace with our experience.
But the party was awesome, something we will repeat again sometime. It is great to have an open party and just see who comes. The expectancy of it all was great. Parties too often get caught up in the rules and expectations of friendship and manners and all that unfun stuff, so this was a welcome diversion, just fun after a not-so-fun summer! Thanks to everyone who came out to help Bo celebrate his burthday and end-of-therapy and thanks to all those who couldn't come but thought about us, anyway! With love, Lisa
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Love is Like Oxygen, but Delivered like Luggage
KSAs. Every year, you have an employee review and at some time, someone mentions them—knowledge, skills and abilities. Your boss tells you what you have, what you need, and what you better work on pretty darn quick or you’ll never make it to the “next level.” Every job requires different KSAs and we all have a different set of them. Some we are just born with, some we learn and some we build, often painfully. As I write during the Beijing Olympics, we can admit that there are a lot of people that know the sport of swimming, but few will ever be a Dara Torres, or a Michael Phelps.
And so it goes with love. Love is a skill. When given it is a beautiful gift and given freely, an act of profound grace, but most of all it is a skill. Everyone is born with an ability to love, no matter how wretched a human society creates, somewhere there is a heart of love. But unnurtured, it is a skill never acquired, or stamped out like unwanted embers that can cause too much damage. Therefore, people differ in their ability to love. It's like writing. There are people who are gifted storytellers and so there are people whose ability to love transcends art. People whose love fills a room and lights a night, people who love people and things without restraint. In other words, people who are truly gifted. But there are also brilliant technical writers—they are horribly unappreciated, because their gift is so precise and esoteric, appreciated by few, but necessary to many. And so there are people who love in the same way. People who care so deeply about society, or dogs, plants, or orphans, that they will dedicate their entire lives, fortunes and beings to improving the lot of the world. But most people are somewhere in the middle and most struggle in at least some aspects of it.
I started writing this several weeks ago, but couldn't figure out a way to get to the point. In the interim, I read The Shack, by William P. Young and as one of those Beautiful People, he made it all so clear to me. I started this post after hearing a very painful story from a cancer survivor who shared how she sometimes felt alone on her journey because others were uncomfortable and though they all meant well, all the trappings of manners and proper behavior and formality made her feel isolated. And what we need, all of us, is love, pure acceptance, especially when we are hurt, phsically, emotionally, or spiritually. And yet it's so hard because to truly open your heart to another opens yourself to risk--to hurt and disappointment. Consider this exceprt from The Shack:
Humans…have a knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun that reeks of rules: something growing and alive dies… If you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. But what happens when I change that “expectancy” to an “expectation”—spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the responsibilities of a good friend.
And so, I endeavor from this day forth to try to live with expectancy and not expectations in all my personal relationships. I endeavor to assume that we all have good intentions for one another, but we are clumsy and unskilled in the ways of love and acceptance. Imagine how much better the world could be if we could all open our hearts and minds to the love of others! Don't treat love like they do our luggage on the trams and conveyor belts, treat all your relationships as if they provide the oxygen that sustains you, because in the end, they do! With love and acceptance, Lisa
And so it goes with love. Love is a skill. When given it is a beautiful gift and given freely, an act of profound grace, but most of all it is a skill. Everyone is born with an ability to love, no matter how wretched a human society creates, somewhere there is a heart of love. But unnurtured, it is a skill never acquired, or stamped out like unwanted embers that can cause too much damage. Therefore, people differ in their ability to love. It's like writing. There are people who are gifted storytellers and so there are people whose ability to love transcends art. People whose love fills a room and lights a night, people who love people and things without restraint. In other words, people who are truly gifted. But there are also brilliant technical writers—they are horribly unappreciated, because their gift is so precise and esoteric, appreciated by few, but necessary to many. And so there are people who love in the same way. People who care so deeply about society, or dogs, plants, or orphans, that they will dedicate their entire lives, fortunes and beings to improving the lot of the world. But most people are somewhere in the middle and most struggle in at least some aspects of it.
I started writing this several weeks ago, but couldn't figure out a way to get to the point. In the interim, I read The Shack, by William P. Young and as one of those Beautiful People, he made it all so clear to me. I started this post after hearing a very painful story from a cancer survivor who shared how she sometimes felt alone on her journey because others were uncomfortable and though they all meant well, all the trappings of manners and proper behavior and formality made her feel isolated. And what we need, all of us, is love, pure acceptance, especially when we are hurt, phsically, emotionally, or spiritually. And yet it's so hard because to truly open your heart to another opens yourself to risk--to hurt and disappointment. Consider this exceprt from The Shack:
Humans…have a knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun that reeks of rules: something growing and alive dies… If you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. But what happens when I change that “expectancy” to an “expectation”—spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the responsibilities of a good friend.
And so, I endeavor from this day forth to try to live with expectancy and not expectations in all my personal relationships. I endeavor to assume that we all have good intentions for one another, but we are clumsy and unskilled in the ways of love and acceptance. Imagine how much better the world could be if we could all open our hearts and minds to the love of others! Don't treat love like they do our luggage on the trams and conveyor belts, treat all your relationships as if they provide the oxygen that sustains you, because in the end, they do! With love and acceptance, Lisa
Friday, August 15, 2008
STRIKE OUT CANCER!
When our family has an occasion, we don't just have cake, we have Stacey Cake! For a while Stacey had to like get a job and take care of her family or something (really?) and she stopped making cakes! So, the Scribners stopped having parties because parties are not parties without Stacey Cake. I can't begin to describe to you the experience, I don't even like cake, but I LOVE Stacey Cake. I think Stacey's congregation is still scratching their heads about the time Stacey proclaimed loudly in the packed Christmas Eve service that she just loves that my husband starts salivating every time he sees her! She was talking about the cakes--I think, but who would know! She says she has a defective filter, I say without defective filters, what would we all have to laugh at? Anyway, we also have a hard time with parties because our boys have unfortunate birthdays. Bo's falls during the one week every year that Columbia (usually, including him) goes on vacation and Pierce's is in January right after break.
But Stacey is back in business, and Bo's tenth birthday was last Thursday--he was at the Little League game in Indianapolis, so it wasn't a bad day, but he didn't have a party or anything. So, next weekend, Sunday August 24th, we want to invite EVERYONE to come out to Town & Country Lanes on Providence to have Stacey Cake and maybe bowl a few with Bo. We have reserved 4 lanes, but if you want to bowl, let us know and we will reserve more. We could never have made it through the last couple months without all the support--every single letter, phone call, prayer and positive thought that was delivered when we needed it most. So this is one small thing we can do to say thanks! Especially if we don't know you, come out so we can meet you and say thanks in person. I can't begin to tell you how much I have come to appreciate some of the people who have sent e-mails or stopped into the store to give me positive energy. And to be honest, though there are a lot of people who tell you horror stories of energy suckers and people who say the most inappropriate things, Columbia gave us NONE of those. This is a birthday party, but the only gift we want is your presence. Bo has more material stuff than any boy should really have and we have no more space for anything, and without a safe place, the dogs will eat it. The best gift he and the rest of us can have is to know how many people are in his corner and to be able to say thanks in person!
So remember:
Bo's STRIKE OUT CANCER! Party
Town & Country Lanes
1508 North Providence Road
Sunday, August 24th, 2:00-4:00
RSVP if you want us to reserve lanes, otherwise, just come so we can say thanks! With love, Lisa
But Stacey is back in business, and Bo's tenth birthday was last Thursday--he was at the Little League game in Indianapolis, so it wasn't a bad day, but he didn't have a party or anything. So, next weekend, Sunday August 24th, we want to invite EVERYONE to come out to Town & Country Lanes on Providence to have Stacey Cake and maybe bowl a few with Bo. We have reserved 4 lanes, but if you want to bowl, let us know and we will reserve more. We could never have made it through the last couple months without all the support--every single letter, phone call, prayer and positive thought that was delivered when we needed it most. So this is one small thing we can do to say thanks! Especially if we don't know you, come out so we can meet you and say thanks in person. I can't begin to tell you how much I have come to appreciate some of the people who have sent e-mails or stopped into the store to give me positive energy. And to be honest, though there are a lot of people who tell you horror stories of energy suckers and people who say the most inappropriate things, Columbia gave us NONE of those. This is a birthday party, but the only gift we want is your presence. Bo has more material stuff than any boy should really have and we have no more space for anything, and without a safe place, the dogs will eat it. The best gift he and the rest of us can have is to know how many people are in his corner and to be able to say thanks in person!
So remember:
Bo's STRIKE OUT CANCER! Party
Town & Country Lanes
1508 North Providence Road
Sunday, August 24th, 2:00-4:00
RSVP if you want us to reserve lanes, otherwise, just come so we can say thanks! With love, Lisa
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Life Expectancy
We are still struggling with the finality of waiting. Our last doctor visit was on Friday. The head and neck specialist cleared us from any worry about a possible primary salivary tumor, and Tuesday we had our end-of-therapy visit in the oncology clinic. So now, once a month until they take it out, we have to visit for maintenance of the port we do not seem to need. They will also do scans and blood work quarterly for a couple years, then with less frequency after that, but at least annually for the rest of his life. Not so bad, but why does it FEEL so bad? Why do we seek closure when in life there is never closure? and what is closure? When do you know you are done?
When I was preparing for surgery, our neighbor--I've spoken about them before, that would be Kerry, the babysitter who raised my kids, Steve and Nancy, the parents and Kevin, ever-present role model for my boys and the one who all his life so patiently tolerated playing basketball with my little Bo--Steve gave me the book Life Expectancy (Dean Koontz) to read during surgery. Could he have known that this story might frame the rest of my life?
If you haven't read it, on the day he is born, Jimmy Tock's grandfather predicts that he will have to endure five terrible days. As the first one nears, his family strategizes how best to protect him. Should all be with him, should they lock him in the house alone? Ultimately he chooses to go about his day as normally as possible since he reasons, if he is to have five terrible days, he must survive at least the first four. The day is terrible but he also meets the woman he marries. So was it terrible, or just inconvenient? The other days come and go, and they are all terrible, but all-in-all he has a great life.
The only certainty any of us have is that one day we will all die. Sorry if that's morbid, but gosh this whole blog is pretty drab! If you were told that you would die in a plane crash, would you choose never to travel? If you knew that one of your children would have to endure cancer, would you choose not to have any? If life were like a game show, would you take the so-so outcome, or keep playing for the chance to win a million? We have to choose to go for it, ultimately, there is no choice. We can't hole up in our houses and wait to die, life is a gift and we have to accept it--even the terrible days.
So at some point soon, I think we will accept waiting and we will put out of our minds that something terrible might happen, but I am pretty sure it will be at least a year from now. The uncertainty of the metastasis is still such a huge dark cloud that no one knows how to process. One of our consulting oncologists finally said the other day that "naming it at this point is academic" but it is clearly malignant with an ability to spread. We will discuss the possibility of a second-look with our surgeon and hope that we have a great year with no new findings.
Expect life, every day, and accept life in all it's wonder and magic--it's all we get, but an amazing gift if you use it to its fullest! Have a great weekend, Lisa
When I was preparing for surgery, our neighbor--I've spoken about them before, that would be Kerry, the babysitter who raised my kids, Steve and Nancy, the parents and Kevin, ever-present role model for my boys and the one who all his life so patiently tolerated playing basketball with my little Bo--Steve gave me the book Life Expectancy (Dean Koontz) to read during surgery. Could he have known that this story might frame the rest of my life?
If you haven't read it, on the day he is born, Jimmy Tock's grandfather predicts that he will have to endure five terrible days. As the first one nears, his family strategizes how best to protect him. Should all be with him, should they lock him in the house alone? Ultimately he chooses to go about his day as normally as possible since he reasons, if he is to have five terrible days, he must survive at least the first four. The day is terrible but he also meets the woman he marries. So was it terrible, or just inconvenient? The other days come and go, and they are all terrible, but all-in-all he has a great life.
The only certainty any of us have is that one day we will all die. Sorry if that's morbid, but gosh this whole blog is pretty drab! If you were told that you would die in a plane crash, would you choose never to travel? If you knew that one of your children would have to endure cancer, would you choose not to have any? If life were like a game show, would you take the so-so outcome, or keep playing for the chance to win a million? We have to choose to go for it, ultimately, there is no choice. We can't hole up in our houses and wait to die, life is a gift and we have to accept it--even the terrible days.
So at some point soon, I think we will accept waiting and we will put out of our minds that something terrible might happen, but I am pretty sure it will be at least a year from now. The uncertainty of the metastasis is still such a huge dark cloud that no one knows how to process. One of our consulting oncologists finally said the other day that "naming it at this point is academic" but it is clearly malignant with an ability to spread. We will discuss the possibility of a second-look with our surgeon and hope that we have a great year with no new findings.
Expect life, every day, and accept life in all it's wonder and magic--it's all we get, but an amazing gift if you use it to its fullest! Have a great weekend, Lisa
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Membership has Its Privileges
Needles freak me out. It still amazes me that I do my own weekly allergy shots, though it amazes my family even more that I can spend more than 30 seconds inserting each needle... I am a huge advocate of natural childbirth and the Bradley Method, not because I am an idealistic and informed parent, but because I am a certified wimp. Stick a needle in my spine, or tough it out, the choice is obvious to me! We had our Bradley class reunion when our kids were a couple months old. Pierce was an award winning projectile spitter, and not even close to sleeping through the night, so I had no great observations or experiences to share, I could barely remember how I got to the meeting. But one of the Dads remarked that having a child was amazing to him because he received automatic free admission to a club he never even knew existed--the Dad's Club. He was right, the Mom's Club is just as rewarding. Then, I started a business and I learned what it means to receive a Gold Membership to the owners' club.
And now, though I am not one of the lucky ones that has been chosen to take on cancer myself, as a parent of a childhood cancer recipient, I get to belong to the Cancer Club. You can look down on it and be sad for all it's members, but I am so privileged to have come to know all the members and hear all their stories. And it doesn't stop at cancer. People who have cystic fibrosis and even mental illness or fibromyalgia all belong to the same club--the one that no one really wants to join. One of the benefits of membership is getting to know people at a level you were never privileged to reach before.
Sharing a journey through fear and sickness, uncertainty, unwavering faith and bottomless doubt molds and changes you in ways you never expected and opens you to insights and relationships you never imagined. One of my customers today shared a brief part of her cancer journey and reinforced one of the reasons I write--to give voice to the majority of members who are unable to share their perspectives for countless reasons, but whose stories deserve to be recognized. She also shared a part of her daughter's battle with situational depression and how it has changed her life, all for the better, in my mind. It is true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, if we are smart enough and brave enough to embrace it and learn from it.
This is a rambling post, but what I wanted to say was thanks to all the people who have enriched our lives with their knowledge and experience and who have been brave enough to blaze the trail before us. We appreciate the soldiers who fight for our freedom, and our ancestors who gave us life, we should also remember, every day, the medical pioneers who endure tests and treatments and unimaginable agony so that they can continue to enrich our lives in every capacity from teachers to nurses, realtors to electricians, salesmen to engineers and scientists. There are so many members of the cancer and other medical maladies club that we owe a great deal of thanks, so this post is for them, thanks for being strong! With love and respect, Lisa
And now, though I am not one of the lucky ones that has been chosen to take on cancer myself, as a parent of a childhood cancer recipient, I get to belong to the Cancer Club. You can look down on it and be sad for all it's members, but I am so privileged to have come to know all the members and hear all their stories. And it doesn't stop at cancer. People who have cystic fibrosis and even mental illness or fibromyalgia all belong to the same club--the one that no one really wants to join. One of the benefits of membership is getting to know people at a level you were never privileged to reach before.
Sharing a journey through fear and sickness, uncertainty, unwavering faith and bottomless doubt molds and changes you in ways you never expected and opens you to insights and relationships you never imagined. One of my customers today shared a brief part of her cancer journey and reinforced one of the reasons I write--to give voice to the majority of members who are unable to share their perspectives for countless reasons, but whose stories deserve to be recognized. She also shared a part of her daughter's battle with situational depression and how it has changed her life, all for the better, in my mind. It is true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, if we are smart enough and brave enough to embrace it and learn from it.
This is a rambling post, but what I wanted to say was thanks to all the people who have enriched our lives with their knowledge and experience and who have been brave enough to blaze the trail before us. We appreciate the soldiers who fight for our freedom, and our ancestors who gave us life, we should also remember, every day, the medical pioneers who endure tests and treatments and unimaginable agony so that they can continue to enrich our lives in every capacity from teachers to nurses, realtors to electricians, salesmen to engineers and scientists. There are so many members of the cancer and other medical maladies club that we owe a great deal of thanks, so this post is for them, thanks for being strong! With love and respect, Lisa
Gentle Giants
Sports confound me. I am not an athlete and I don't really "get" sports and physical competition--give me math team and physics olympics any day, but I just don't understand fan behavior and mentality... However, since I live in a sports town with three boys, I have learned to appreciate them as best I can. While I will never understand the offsides rule, the strategy behind a good batting lineup, or instantly recognize a zone defense, I have definitely come to appreciate the human side of sports.
In large part, thanks to Tommie, I have especially come to appreciate the dedication it takes to be an athlete at the collegiate level. I admit I was one of those people that thought "seriously, athletes have tutors, and that is fair why?" And of course you get the occasional Ricky Clemons who completed, what was it, 40 credits in one summer and bragged that he NEVER read a book in his life (Fortunately our new basketball coach would never stand for such nonsense!)... But Tommie taught me how much REAL athletes, who are dedicated to their sport, sacrifice. They spend hours on the road, missing class and homework time, to travel to events. They practice, often four or more hours a day, have team meetings and doctor and rehab appointments to fix ailments that would render most of us bedridden, and do their own fair share of recruiting and community service work on behalf of the university. They need tutors like most of us need help with laundry or cleaning or maintaining our cars. There just isn't enough time in a day to get it all done.
And we were recently the beneficiaries of some of that community service. Thanks to Gary Pinkel and the strength coaches, Bo was able to attend a training session for the MU football team. I stayed home with Pierce who would rather sleep late than do just about anything, but Bo had such an awesome time, I wish I could have been there. He was able to witness at least one athlete accomplish a new personal best, received posters with autographs of most of the team, and have what amounts to one of the best days of his life. Follow that up with a day at the field with the 11-12 Daniel Boone All Stars that adopted him, and he was in y chromosome heaven.
So, while I will never know a Hail Mary pass or an end-run when I see one, I appreciate Coaches Pinkel and Ivie and all the others like them who bring honor and dignity to their sports and help grow wise and honorable young men who will shine even more brightly off the field as they ever do on it. And, I appreciate the student athletes who work harder than most of us can ever really know to be the best that they can be in heart, mind and body. Life is full of heroes, gentle giants and brazen children who enrich our lives every day and we appreciate each and every one of you for all you give to those who seek hope. Thanks a million, Lisa
In large part, thanks to Tommie, I have especially come to appreciate the dedication it takes to be an athlete at the collegiate level. I admit I was one of those people that thought "seriously, athletes have tutors, and that is fair why?" And of course you get the occasional Ricky Clemons who completed, what was it, 40 credits in one summer and bragged that he NEVER read a book in his life (Fortunately our new basketball coach would never stand for such nonsense!)... But Tommie taught me how much REAL athletes, who are dedicated to their sport, sacrifice. They spend hours on the road, missing class and homework time, to travel to events. They practice, often four or more hours a day, have team meetings and doctor and rehab appointments to fix ailments that would render most of us bedridden, and do their own fair share of recruiting and community service work on behalf of the university. They need tutors like most of us need help with laundry or cleaning or maintaining our cars. There just isn't enough time in a day to get it all done.
And we were recently the beneficiaries of some of that community service. Thanks to Gary Pinkel and the strength coaches, Bo was able to attend a training session for the MU football team. I stayed home with Pierce who would rather sleep late than do just about anything, but Bo had such an awesome time, I wish I could have been there. He was able to witness at least one athlete accomplish a new personal best, received posters with autographs of most of the team, and have what amounts to one of the best days of his life. Follow that up with a day at the field with the 11-12 Daniel Boone All Stars that adopted him, and he was in y chromosome heaven.
So, while I will never know a Hail Mary pass or an end-run when I see one, I appreciate Coaches Pinkel and Ivie and all the others like them who bring honor and dignity to their sports and help grow wise and honorable young men who will shine even more brightly off the field as they ever do on it. And, I appreciate the student athletes who work harder than most of us can ever really know to be the best that they can be in heart, mind and body. Life is full of heroes, gentle giants and brazen children who enrich our lives every day and we appreciate each and every one of you for all you give to those who seek hope. Thanks a million, Lisa
Saturday, August 2, 2008
The Beginning, the End, THEN the Middle
Back in the day when I worked a real job and went to see those motivational speakers organizations always enlist to help "energize" the troops, I saw a woman speaker who carried around two pictures of her son. She would talk about how if only you could know the end, it would make the middle so much easier. The first photo showed a boy with a guitar and a complete 70's, early 80's punk outfit, black clothes, zippers, chains, makeup, piercings and everything. The "now" photo showed a proud man in a military officer uniform. I always read the first couple chapters of a book, then the last--my justification is so that I know what to read for and I can see if the author makes any mistakes. Of course they really don't, that's what editors are for, but I just have to know.
Tonight, I really f$%^ed up. Excuse the profanity, but when it's big, it's just big and Stephen King says you are supposed to write like normal people would speak and I didn't just "make a mistake." I was excited to escape and read a piece of fluffy teen lit--The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--so I suspended "the rule" and just read from beginning to end and now I can't sleep. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THAT A 12-YEAR-OLD GIRL DIES OF LEUKEMIA? Sorry if that just spoiled it for anyone, but I think it's best to be prepared for things like that! Like I was told the movie It's a Beautiful Life was a wonderful love story. THE MAIN CHARACTERS ALL DIE IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS--not a great love story. Pay it Forward is not a heartwarming story about helping your neighbors--it's about a KID WHO DIES! Things like that are just plain sad and to a person in a fragile emotional state, they can be downright devastating--you can not spoil a sad ending, people need to be prepared. Why do they feel it is important to warn people there is sex or violence, drug use, or profanity? Profanity, really, who needs to be warned about profanity--how can a person be more offended by a few f-bombs than the sad and random expiration of a precious life?
So now, two nights in a row I am up in the middle of the night. Before this journey began, I could probably count on my fingers the numbers of times I have faced insomnia, but lately I spend a lot of time awake in the quiet time. While we still have no written report, we did get a phone call tonight that the doctors at MSK are not recommending any additional treatment at this time. They recommend we watch and wait, then treat any potential recurrence. So, here we are stuck in the middle and that terribly uncertain sentence feels like the worst punishment of all. Give me stress and deadlines and crises and I can function, even thrive if it's work related. Give me someone else's tragedy or pain and I can make the best of it and help them through, but stick ME in the middle of something scary and I don't even know what to do. Of course I never knew that about myself before, but now I do, I just plain suck at it. How can you feel angry and scared and helpless and frustrated, depressed and manic all at the same time and not explode? Well, apparently, I can't, so I read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and cried, and cried and cried, without really knowing why.
I cried for all the brave little people like Bailey and Bo who face death with no fear. Bo told Jay that he isn't afraid to die, but he doesn't want to die with tubes in him. I cried in relief that at least right now, Bo won't have to face chemo. I cried in fear that by not treating him, there is cancer roaming around in his little body searching for the next best places to relocate--his kidneys, his brain, his spinal cord? I cried in frustration that maybe we STILL don't have the right answer and we should look harder. I cried in anger that we spend more money building technology to blow stuff up than we do trying to save and build people. I cried in helplessness because no matter how much I cry, there is nothing else I can do to write his ending the way I WANT IT, and that no matter how happy, ordinary or painful it is, we have to read the whole book, no skipping ahead. So after I write this, I will go to sleep and I will wake tomorrow and start living our new life. And we will not live in in the shadow of cancer. Since we can't know the ending, we will enjoy it, like a good book, savor and love every minute of it, and take in all the good stuff, so the sadness pales in comparison to the happiness. Sleep well, always sleep well, so you can take full advantage of every day.
Tonight, I really f$%^ed up. Excuse the profanity, but when it's big, it's just big and Stephen King says you are supposed to write like normal people would speak and I didn't just "make a mistake." I was excited to escape and read a piece of fluffy teen lit--The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--so I suspended "the rule" and just read from beginning to end and now I can't sleep. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THAT A 12-YEAR-OLD GIRL DIES OF LEUKEMIA? Sorry if that just spoiled it for anyone, but I think it's best to be prepared for things like that! Like I was told the movie It's a Beautiful Life was a wonderful love story. THE MAIN CHARACTERS ALL DIE IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS--not a great love story. Pay it Forward is not a heartwarming story about helping your neighbors--it's about a KID WHO DIES! Things like that are just plain sad and to a person in a fragile emotional state, they can be downright devastating--you can not spoil a sad ending, people need to be prepared. Why do they feel it is important to warn people there is sex or violence, drug use, or profanity? Profanity, really, who needs to be warned about profanity--how can a person be more offended by a few f-bombs than the sad and random expiration of a precious life?
So now, two nights in a row I am up in the middle of the night. Before this journey began, I could probably count on my fingers the numbers of times I have faced insomnia, but lately I spend a lot of time awake in the quiet time. While we still have no written report, we did get a phone call tonight that the doctors at MSK are not recommending any additional treatment at this time. They recommend we watch and wait, then treat any potential recurrence. So, here we are stuck in the middle and that terribly uncertain sentence feels like the worst punishment of all. Give me stress and deadlines and crises and I can function, even thrive if it's work related. Give me someone else's tragedy or pain and I can make the best of it and help them through, but stick ME in the middle of something scary and I don't even know what to do. Of course I never knew that about myself before, but now I do, I just plain suck at it. How can you feel angry and scared and helpless and frustrated, depressed and manic all at the same time and not explode? Well, apparently, I can't, so I read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and cried, and cried and cried, without really knowing why.
I cried for all the brave little people like Bailey and Bo who face death with no fear. Bo told Jay that he isn't afraid to die, but he doesn't want to die with tubes in him. I cried in relief that at least right now, Bo won't have to face chemo. I cried in fear that by not treating him, there is cancer roaming around in his little body searching for the next best places to relocate--his kidneys, his brain, his spinal cord? I cried in frustration that maybe we STILL don't have the right answer and we should look harder. I cried in anger that we spend more money building technology to blow stuff up than we do trying to save and build people. I cried in helplessness because no matter how much I cry, there is nothing else I can do to write his ending the way I WANT IT, and that no matter how happy, ordinary or painful it is, we have to read the whole book, no skipping ahead. So after I write this, I will go to sleep and I will wake tomorrow and start living our new life. And we will not live in in the shadow of cancer. Since we can't know the ending, we will enjoy it, like a good book, savor and love every minute of it, and take in all the good stuff, so the sadness pales in comparison to the happiness. Sleep well, always sleep well, so you can take full advantage of every day.
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