Shamira....my neighbor

My next door neighbor is an elderly, Assyrian woman...from Iran. Whenever I visit , she asks me in for tea. She brews it, strains it and pours it into clear tea cups. We sit at her table and chat. She has experienced much....the loss of her 42 year old daughter who died of bone cancer....the loss of her husband in the midst of raising children and managing an almond farm.....and the various hardships that come to us while living life on this earth. She has a deep, abiding faith.......and speaks of the Lord's goodness through her tears as she shares her losses.

I relish ...I savor....our around the table encounters. I leave her presence refreshed...and feeling somehow safe....just knowing she is near and is watching out for me. As she shares her wisdom, gained only from living long, I strain to secure her words and thoughts in my heart and mind.

Shamira still drives (well into her 80's).....and shops daily for fresh food in order to prepare her tantalizing, old world meals. A grape vine cascades across her yard, from which she gathers the Thompson leaves to make a meal. She prepares a mixture of rice, beef, leeks (also growing in her yard), garlic and dill which she carefully wraps in the leaves. Another meal she shared with me today, steaming and bubbling straight from the oven...was similar. She called it "Dulma"....an Assyrian , traditional dish. Zucchini and tomatoes and peppers were stuffed with a mixture of rice, parsley, beef, leeks.......and probably other things. The skins of the stuffed vegetables melted in my mouth...tender...not at all bitter or tough. Of course, I begged her to show me how to make this marvelous meal. She agreed that we would do that one day together.

She grows beautiful, fragrant roses and knits baby blankets.........all on the agenda for future teaching sessions.

Gratitude....that is what I feel. Grateful that God would place me in the house next to hers. My friend and mentor, Shamira.

Mikalah Anne Travis...born May 1st..13 yrs ago.

I was there when she was born.....my first grandchild. An amazing, unbelievable moment....assimilating, somehow, the miracle of this person infused with a part of "all of us".....grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins...from both sides of the family.

Mikalah Anne Travis...born May 1st..13 yrs ago. Our precious first grandchild will be 13 on Saturday. How did our beautiful, lovely, joyful baby transform into such a stunning, kind, still-joyful teenager in a seemingly small amount of time?

I have loved and enjoyed and looked forward to every second of time spent with my Kalie Girl. Before her move from Watsonville to Idaho , she and I spent a couple of hours huddled together on the beach. It was chilly and windy and wet. Waves slammed against the sand. We lay wrapped in a blanket...shivering and talking. We cried...we made promises of visits and phone calls and letters. I was sure my heart would break......and that I wouldnt recover. What I thought I knew was that she would forget....that soon Gramahuny wouldnt be quite so important to her as she grew in her new life.

We still talk, we still write (email and texting) and visits are filled with fun and hugs and sometimes, tears. I love her "past God and back"...as we have always pledged to one another. And, astounding to me, she still desires "time together" with her Gramahuny.

We are surprising her Saturday...the day of her birthday. Her parents are registered to race in Spokane on Sunday. I am flying into Spokane on Saturday...she does not know this. Her parent's gift to her is a night's stay at a motel with me!!! The motel is located on the river front....and , as I understand, saturated with shops, restaurants and a mall. The afternoon and evening will be ours......shopping, eating, talking, pedicures, melting pot chocolate fondues, more talking, heart to hearts while snuggled in bed.

Who will be most excited with the visit....Kalie or myself? I think it will be the latter.......forever thankful for this time.....while she still considers this "her present".

14 Pounds and Stuck!

Could it be because Chad brought fresh donuts for the staff....that smelled luscious? ( I only took one bite).
Could it be because a family member offered the staff meat and cheese roll ups made fresh at Costco (I ate one).
Could it be because our boss made a tantalizing jello, walnut, whipped cream delight (let's just say I ate some!)

Or all of the above? UGH!

More Than We Can Bear?

Taf and I had one of those conversations. She remarked how it is that well-meaning people share ideas that get passed along from one generation to the next. We even forget their source. Taf and I laughed..most of the sage little quotes we pass along and attribute to "god" are Ben Franklin originals...such as "cleanliness is next to godliness". One popular phrase is "we are never given more than we can bear". We are told that it is in the Bible...somewhere. But is it really scripture? Do we find that "truth" in God's Word? We read in the Bible that we are to bear one another's burdens....and that there is no "temptation" that can overtake us without there being a way of escape..but I cant seem to find that other phrase there.

Are there burdens too heavy...more than we can carry? Is losing ones entire family in a fire more than one can bear? Is losing a child to disease, to kidnapping...to sexual abuse...more than one can bear? Is being forced to be a child soldier in Uganda more than one child can bear? Is cancer? Is a stroke? Is losing a spouse to divorce....watching a family unravel?

For the most part, I believe life is more than we can bear. I am not even sure we should attempt it...much less think that we are able. I am thinking that when we meet the "unbearable" .....we come face to face with the truth of ourselves...of life....and that is that it is out of our control.

A man I know is facing the death...slow, agonizing death...of his wife. His first inclination was to "manage" it......to somehow secure the outcome and everything in between. He reacted in anger, blame........more controlling...until, at last, he gave in to what he couldnt change...and began to "lean" on others.

Maybe we are "supposed" to experience "more than we can bear", rather than enduring or escaping.. Maybe, just maybe, it is then that we let ourselves be "held". When we finish managing...when we lay, face down....from the sheer exhaustion of struggling ......maybe it is then that we know we are being carried.

Taf's stroke was more than I could bear.......certainly more than she could bear....and more than her precious family could bear. I imagined I had lost my oldest friend....and with her I felt a part of me leaving...a part of who I am and a part of the history that defines my life. My grief was overwhelming.

We watched as she was "held"...as she was carried from that dark, seemingly hopeless, unbearable place.......to light, to wholeness.......to healing. Others were strewn along her path to assist with the "bearing"....to literally hold her up...physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

It was "way more" than she could bear....He "allowed" her more than she could bear. It is curious how that works....because in her weakness....in her inability to bear the burden....she became strong...stronger than I have ever known her.

Just look at her now.......

Talks in the Dark, Reading by flashlight, Snuggling........

Grandchildren...Oh God....let me absorb this precious time and please dont let it pass too quickly. My little guy spent the night with me. I have several beds in the house....but no...he asks...he insists... on sleeping "together" on the couch. He says, "Remember, Gramahuny, you hafta lay down first and then I squeeze in between the cracks." The cracks?

We nestle in, time for sleep.....and he says "lets talk about tomorrow".....so we talk. The talk doesnt have to be about tomorrow.....it is his way of beginning the conversation. I pray he never changes.....that he will always want to talk...to share his ideas and to listen to mine.

The "talk about tomorrow" ends and he states that two things help him go to sleep...movies and stories. He chooses Rudyard Kipling's "Jungle Book"...NOT the children's version....but the "no pictures" , "full of words" version. The very special experience of reading at night, by the light of a flashlight....is cuddling close and being put to sleep with the rhythm of words expressed through a gifted author. Magical and comforting...all at once.

He suddenly jumps down from the couch, kneels at its side. His head against the cushion, hands folded...he prays "God, give me good dreams tonight." He looks up at me and says "I will pray about being Superman tomorrow."

Will he remember spending the night with Gramahuny, reading by flashlight, cuddling on the couch, long talks in the dark? Probably not. But, possibly his heart is just a little bit more padded with the security of being loved by someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on him. I know I wont forget.

Early Detection

God is good. In spite of my procrastination, the pre-cancer was caught before it could develop. Early detection Ladies....and , believe me, I am the worst at getting those yearly tests....for anything. Thanks to Dr Aimee, a baseline mammogram for the newly prescribed estrogen was ordered. Left to myself, I might not have had one until I actually had cancer and maybe it would have been at a stage that is not so hopeful.

My surgery is May 7....outpatient. They are removing atypical cells that , left unremoved, would make me 10 times more likely to develop cancer. No more estrogen for me.....I will have to learn to compensate with my "foggy" brain. :)

Message here for me: Mammograms. Yearly. No excuses.

***late note: Dan, Taffy's husband. told me it was good to have found this when I did....He said "you may need 'your parts' someday soon." I laughed so hard and said "not likely!"