Thanksgiving 2011 - Plan B

Sometimes, things just don’t turn out the way you planned. You’ve probably heard the saying...If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans...? Well, I don’t know if God really laughs at all our so-called perfect plans, or if He just shakes His head in quiet amusement. Who knows....Maybe He even feels sorry for us sometimes...? I’ve learned that plans are great, as long as you remember that even the best laid plans can change... at any moment.

Making plans is a big part of my job. I plan music for liturgies each week, and I write lesson plans for the classes I teach. I develop my short and long term goals and devise plans to meet them. I am very particular about my plans...I have even formatted my own color-coded templates. But, no matter how thorough I am, and regardless of my attention to details, I know my plans are subject to change...for any number of reasons...and there is nothing I can do about it. 

As a church musician, I have experienced just about every musical (and non-musical) train wreck imaginable. One time, at a wedding, I was singing a song as the bride and groom lit the unity candle. Just as the song was ending, the bride leaned in to blow out the flame on the taper,  and caught her veil on fire. My accompanist and I made eye contact for a second, then he played his way back to the beginning of the song, and I just kept singing, as if nothing unusual was happening. Now, that was not in the original plan, so we quickly switched to Plan B. And we decided what Plan B was in about two and a half seconds: Sing the song again and keep singing until somebody puts the fire out. (By the way, no one was hurt, and it’s a good thing the veil was a one time deal.)

I’ve gotten pretty good at coming up with last minute Plan Bs. I don’t get rattled very easily and I’m usually calm and level headed in an emergency. So, yesterday, when Anthony asked me to call his sister (30 minutes before we were supposed to arrive at her house for Thanksgiving dinner) and tell her he was too sick to go, I didn’t panic. I did wish, for a split second, that I had followed my gut instinct (the day before) and bought that cute little 12 pound turkey I saw at the grocery store...And, I felt bad about our friend  who was supposed to meet up with us at my sister-in-law’s. Then, I stopped myself and said (out loud...but only in my head): OK, everyone, let’s just take a deep breath...We’ll just go to Plan B. 

Wait. Does anyone have a Plan B?

Plan B ended up being our dear friend, Mollie, going over to my sister-in-law’s to pick up our Thanksgiving dinner, To-Go. We ate our turkey and stuffing and potatos and cranberries in our stocking feet. Anthony sat at the table for a little while, then camped out on the living room couch, all comfy and warm.  Later, I whipped some cream and grated some fresh nutmeg for the pumpkin pie that came with our Meals-on-Wheels. C’mon...It doesn’t get any better than that!

Now, I’m not saying there wasn’t any disappointment over not going to Anthony’s sister’s house. Of course there was. Anthony felt bad for all of us, we all felt bad for Anthony. But I don’t think Plan B ruined anyone’s day, and it certainly didn’t change the fact that we still have lots to be thankful for...Like the fact that Anthony’s sister is a really good cook and that she sent us more food than we could finish! Then, there’s Mollie, who is so sweet and always  ready to help...She was happy to pick up the food and bring it to us. Just seeing her walking up the driveway with a big smile on her face, carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers, warmed my heart. Finally, after a mostly miserable day, confined to the sofa and feeling so sick, Anthony was able to get up and eat some of his favorite holiday food. That was a blessing beyond measure!

Anthony and I have hosted many Thanksgiving dinners. I’ve set beautiful tables with festive linens, holiday china, crystal goblets, shiny silverware, napkin rings. I‘ve made centerpieces, the likes of which Betty Crocker and Martha Stewart would envy. But, yesterday, our table looked more like a desk at a nursing station than a dining room table. With two plastic trays of Anthony’s prescription bottles, a few stacks of sorted mail, and some scattered papers pushed out of the way, we ate our Thanksgiving dinner. I’m here to tell you, it was no less special. After all, we had what was most important. Anthony’s sister sent us plenty of good food to fill our tummies...And, in the true spirit of Thanksgiving, there was a great abundance of love to fill our hearts. You know, it’s kind of funny...With all the extra table setting niceties stripped away, the more important things stood out. 

So, the next time things don't go exactly as you've planned and you have to improvise, try not to automatically look for what's missing. Instead, be on the lookout for the hidden gifts in what awaits you. Plan B may very well be filled with an abundance of blessings...Oh, that's Blessings...with a capital "B."

Happy Thanksgiving 2011

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Yes, I know Anthony has cancer. Pancreatic cancer. But, we still have so much to be thankful for. His cancer does not automatically cancel out all the blessings in our life. 

A couple days ago, I ran into someone Anthony and I have known for years. He had not yet heard that Anthony was sick, and was shocked and saddened by the news. That, I understand. I gave him a hug...an offer of comfort after delivering the news. We talked for a few minutes, and before we parted, I wished him and his family a Happy Thanksgiving. He asked that I give Anthony his regards and then wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. He was quick, however, to tack on a caveat. He said, “Well, I guess as happy a Thanksgiving you can have...under the circumstances.” Without even thinking, I smiled and said, “Thanks. We’re going to have a wonderful Thanksgiving!”

Now, something about that conversation has been bothering me, and a question keeps playing over and over in my head: Under what circumstances? Was this friend infering that, because Anthony has cancer, our Thanksgiving should be any less thankful, or festive, or happy? 

Part of me understands why someone might think our holiday would be bittersweet. And, honestly, I could see myself going there...maybe even feeling a little less than thankful this year...if I focused upon Anthony being sick. When someone you love is struck with a devastating illness, like pancreatic cancer, it’s easy to allow it to become the center of your life. Anthony and I schedule all of our daily activities around his treatment times and doctor visits. With pancreatic cancer, you have to plan ahead for just about everything, and because the gastrointestinal symptoms can be so severe, it’s difficult to leave the house for any extended period of time. Your world seems to get smaller and smaller. You can begin to feel very isolated and alone. A friend of mine put it this way...It’s like you are operating in a different time zone from everyone else. It isn’t always possible for other people to find their way into our time zone so we try to stay connected as much as we can by doing as many familiar things as possible. 

So, here it is...Thanksgiving Day. We usually spend the holiday at home, cooking and smelling all the wonderful aromas of the Autumn feast; but, this year we're changing it up a little. Even though I really enjoy cooking for Thanksgiving, I am very thankful that we are going to Anthony’s sister’s house for the traditional feast. I’m glad Anthony will be getting out of the house for something other than a medical appointment or radiation treatment. Sure, he may have to retreat to a bedroom and rest for a good part of the time, but at least he’ll have a change of scenery.

I’m thankful we’ll be spending the day with family and our dear friend. I’m looking forward to talking and laughing and celebrating the good and beautiful things in our life. Anthony and I could be going through all this alone, but we are not...Thank God we are not! We are so blessed to be surrounded by an army of loving and supportive people who have helped us in every way possible. We have blessings in our lives that we didn’t even know we had! How could we begin to think that Anthony’s cancer is big enough to cancel out all that good? When I stack up our blessings next to the cancer, I can see things in their proper perspectives. The cancer looks very small in comparison!

I hope and pray that all of you will have a happy Thanksgiving Day. Try to keep your problems, your sorrows, and your worries in their proper perspectives. Don’t let the world’s imperfections overshadow all the blessings in your life. I know it’s hard sometimes. As for  Anthony and I?... Well, we are going to focus on the here and now. Today, we are together and we get to spend the whole day with each other and with people we love. And you can be assured of this: When we join our hands and hearts to give thanks today, all of you will be remembered in our prayer. 

Yes, Thanksgiving Day 2011 will be a happy day, indeed.

Anxiety or No Anxiety

OK. I’m pretty sure I have just recovered from a full blown anxiety attack. Heart pounding. Uncontrollable shaking. Overwhelming panic and feelings of dread. Nausea. Hot flash. Cold flash. Shortness of breath. Fear. I’m fairly certain it wasn’t a major heart attack because I was able to talk myself back to normal. I’m also not dead. I don’t think I need to consult a symptom checker on Web M.D. or call anyone. Yep. I’m pretty sure it was your regular, garden variety type anxiety/panic attack.  Wow. That wasn’t fun.

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. After all, I do have a few things on my mind. Yesterday was not exactly a good day, and even though I tried to do everything I could to take care of me while taking care of Anthony, some things must have fallen through the cracks. I must be missing something. Let’s see...I ate. I drank lots of water. Took my medicines. Definitely moved around a lot. Oh, wait. I think I know what it is...Sleep. I didn’t get any. 

I went upstairs with Anthony when he said he was going to bed. I brushed and flossed. Washed my face. Slipped under the covers and snuggled up right next to him. I closed my eyes, but nothing happened...by way of sleep, that is. My mind went from zero to... to....serious warp speed in a couple of seconds...and just kept on going. That’s what happened. It did one of those Energizer bunny kind of things.....Just kept ticking. Tick, tick, tick, tick, ticking. All. Night. Long. I wonder why I didn’t lose it sooner. I mean, I made it all the way to 5 am before I had a major system malfunction.

What’s weird is that I feel unusually calm right now. And clear-headed. Something must be wrong somewhere in the wiring of my brain. I don’t think that’s normal. But, what in the hell is normal these days? Normal is redefined every couple of minutes. There is no normal. Beware out there...Normal doesn’t exist. Just when you think things are running smoothly...normally... something happens and you find yourself smack dab in the middle of a Humpty-Dumpty emergency situation. The king’s horses and the king’s men don’t even bother responding to the 911 call because they know it would just be another futile attempt to restore everything to normal. Normal-schmnormal. Try saying that three times real fast.

Well, in a few minutes, we’ll be heading on over to the hospital so Anthony can get himself drained again. Anybody want to place a bet on how many liters of fluid this time? Actually, I’m more concerned about what’s floating around in that belly fluid of his. One liter or five liters...that’s not the point. It’s more like one cancer cell or no cancer cells. Now, that will make a difference. The stakes go up exponentially when you start talking cancer cells.

I feel pathetic right now. Here I am, going on and on about my piddly little anxiety problem while Anthony has pancreatic cancer. Disgusting. Oh, don’t you dare tell me I’m entitled because my problems are nothing compared to his. He has some real suffering going on. If I let myself travel down this road too often, I’m not going to be able to help him on the really difficult journey that lies ahead of him. Right now, the only real problem I have is a  little matter of time...I’m running out of time. In lots of ways. Most immediately, I need to get up off my butt and finish getting ready so I can get him to the hospital...on time. 

Anxiety or no anxiety...

One liter or five liters...

One cancer cell or no cancer cells...

I Screamed

Tuesday night I had a very productive rehearsal with my group.  We’re getting ready to sing in a Christmas concert. Everyone sounded very nice. Except for me, that is. I couldn’t sing a lick. It was no great mystery why I was only able to hit half the notes. I couldn’t sing because I was hoarse. And I was hoarse because I had abused my voice...screaming. 

You’d think I’d know better. Before I taught music full time, my singing voice paid the bills. I took care of it the way a pitcher takes care of a pitching arm. Screaming is a big, gigantic no-no for a singer. But, I couldn’t help myself. Sunday night, I got in my car and drove on a dark, empty street with my windows rolled up, and I screamed. I screamed...and cried...at the top of my lungs. Like a hungry, helpless, angry, cold, scared infant cries and screams. Once it gets to that point, there is little anyone can do...At that point, consolation is found only  through  exhausting oneself.

I didn’t plan on getting in my car and going balistic. All I wanted to do was go up to the store to pick up a few things. I was fine when I left the house. I started feeling kind of bad when I pulled into the parking lot...This is what my life would be like (may soon be like?) without Anthony in it. Normally, he’d be in the car with me, driving me up there. But, now he’s sick, and he can’t do many of the things he used to do. So I have to do them alone.

I made sure I parked under a light. I walked into the store, got what I needed, and started toward my car when it happened. I started crying, right there in the parking lot. I  walked as quickly as I could, unlocked my car, threw the bag inside, but the dam broke before I could get in and shut the door. I had to move my car. I was parked under a light, remember? The last thing I wanted to do was sit in full view, under a bright light, sobbing. So, I started my car and quickly pulled to the darkest part of the parking lot and sat there with my face in my hands.

When I thought I had myself under control, I started the car up again, and drove through the parking lot. How many times have Anthony and I driven through that same parking lot together after going shopping? I have no idea. Far too many times to count, I’m sure, because we always went grocery shopping together. We’d make a date out of it. We'd make a date out of going to the gas station, or the dry cleaners, or the car wash. We've always had fun  just doing the normal, everyday things. Will we ever do the normal stuff again? 

I turned out of the parking lot and started down the hill when it happened. I didn’t even know it was coming. It actually scared me when it came out. I screamed. When that gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, down-to-the-core-of-my-being scream left my body,  it shook me. Then, a wave of tears crashed down and made me feel like I would surely suffocate. I barely had time to catch my breath before another scream came out, even louder and angrier.  Then, I had a completely random thought. Totally random. I realized I’d gotten my money’s worth for all those years of voice lessons and music classes, because that second scream seemed to go on forever...Pretty darn good breath control! That almost made me laugh. Almost. Until I started crying harder. 

After several violent coughs, a couple swipes at my nose, and a sweatshirt sleeve mopped across my eyes, I was hit with round two. Shocking. This set of primal, glottal scraping rumbles were accompanied by a few disjointed words. They would have made little sense, had anyone been able to hear them...“Why?”...“Not now!” ...“No!” ...“Please.” ...“I can’t.” ...“Not him.” ...“Don’t!” ... “I’ll die.” ... “Oh, God...!!!”  They made perfect sense to me. They told the story of my life...That is, my life, today. 

As I got closer to the bottom of the hill, I reminded myself to breathe. Slow, deep breaths. Shhhhh. I used my one dry sleeve to do a quick clean-up of my face. (Thank you, God, for giving me good skin so that I don’t have to wear a lot of make-up. Cleaning up under these circumstances is a lot easier without the extra goop.) I combed my bangs with my fingers, and smiled at myself in the rear-view mirror...practicing. I shook myself at the stop sign, the way a dog shakes water off its coat. Maybe I thought I could shake all my tears away...and all that grief I've been shoving into my emotional closet. I sucked up whatever I could from my swollen nasal passages and swallowed hard. My throat already felt raw and as broken and injured as my heart. It’s no big surprise it’s still sore. I don’t expect my heart to mend any time soon, either.

As I drove the last two short blocks to our house, I spoke gently, trying to assess just how badly I’d damaged my voice. Crap. It never could stand up to repeated abuse. Might I pass off my red, swollen eyes, my sniffles and scratchy throat as allergies? With someone else, possibly. With Anthony, not a chance. I practiced smiling again. Nope, still didn’t feel anywhere close to normal.

As I pulled into the driveway, I prepared myself for walking through the front door. I felt as uneasy as an astronaut preparing for re-entry into the earth’s atmosphere after a little cruise in outer space. I still wasn’t sure what had happened on the way home, but it seemed quite unearthly to me. As if on auto-pilot, I  turned off my car, grabbed my bag, and started walking up the driveway. 

Through the window, I could see Anthony sitting in his chair. He had his favorite throw draped around him as he sat watching T.V. As soon as he caught a glimpse of me approaching the front door, he turned and immediately smiled that amazing smile of his. Without even giving it a second thought, I smiled back. In that moment, I forgot I’d been crying. When I see his smile, I think I might even forget he’s sick...sometimes. His smile does that to me.

I opened the front door and immediately bent down to give him a kiss. I did that without thinking, too. When he looked into my eyes, it only took a split second for him to see the truth. “Oh, Baby, you’ve been crying.” I took his saddened face in my hands and looked straight into his eyes and let him see into my heart. I can’t hide anything from him, so why waste the energy trying? Without a second’s hesitation, I smiled. I didn’t think about it. It just felt like the right thing to do. And he must have felt the same way, because he couldn’t help but smile right back at me. In that one, brief moment, our smiles chased the sadness away...and quieted my screams. Even if only for a little while.

Praying All Night

OK, Lord, here we go again. Another night spent in a hospital room...awake...waiting. Always waiting...What's next?

I have to trust that You know me far better than I know myself...If You ask me, I’ll say I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. But, You know that’s not true, right? If it were true, I wouldn’t be here right now...Anthony wouldn’t be here right now. We’d both be at home in our own bed, snuggled up safe and warm, well and happy, dreaming dreams that make us smile in our sleep. 

Lord, will You please just give me a little hint...just a little idea of what’s to come...so I can prepare myself? It seems like every time things start to even out and settle down a little bit...BAM! I’m tired of these sucker punches right in the gut. How much more can I take before I’m down for the count? Can I please just go to my corner and nurse my wounds for a little while before the next round?

Since we’re having this little chat, let me just say this..You know how hard I’ve tried to listen to You and do the right thing my whole life. Even during the really hard times...and You have to admit, I have gone through some crazy hard times. But, You got me through every single one of them. Even when I felt like I was all alone, I knew, deep down inside, You were there with me...And then, You brought me Anthony.

Here’s what I don’t get...I don’t understand why You would bring Anthony and me together and allow us to finally love and be loved the way we’d always imagined it could be...and then let him get sick like this. You must know You are breaking our hearts... but, why? Are people not supposed to be this happy together here? Are we not supposed to have a little bit of Heaven on Earth? We both spent so much of our lives dreaming of a love like this...Please, please Lord, don’t take it away from us. Don’t leave me here without him. Losing him...losing our rare, beautiful, once-in-a-bazillion-years kind of love...will break me. Please don’t tell me it won’t. Don’t say I’m strong enough. I’m telling You I’m not. What do You know about me that I don’t know????? Nevermind, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know about some secret little pocket of strength hidden deep inside me. Please, Lord, I’m begging You...don’t make me have to find it. It’s OK, I trust that You know it’s there. Please don’t make me have to use it. Not this way. I won’t ever be the same. 

Please just make Anthony well. I know You can. We are all praying so hard for him. Everyone is praying. Don’t do it just for me...I’m not the only one who loves him. What about Cassian?... What about Mondo and Erica, Cece and Joe, Davey and Stevie... They all need him and love him so much. What about his mom and his sisters and the rest of his family...and all of my family...and all of our Church family...all of our friends? What about Maya the pup? Come on, Lord...please heal him. I’m so tired, but I’m afraid to go to sleep. I’m afraid to stop praying and pleading. 

Look, I know You have a plan. You’re God...I get that. But, just this once, could I please tell You what I had in mind for Anthony and me? Because I think my plan is pretty cool...See, in my plan, everybody’s happy and healthy and Anthony and I get to live for a really long time together...a really long time. And then one night, when we’re super old, we lay down in each other’s arms and get all cozy. (Well, as cozy and snuggly as two really old people can get.) A soft breeze gently blows the curtains, and the scent of Heaven... jasmine and orange blossoms...fill the air. With his hand over my heart, and my hand over his, we close our eyes and open ourselves to You...and live happily ever after. Forever and ever and ever. 


It's a pretty good plan, right? Will You at least think about it?

What Happened To Thanksgiving?

Every year, right about this time, I feel myself becoming upset. It actually starts right around Halloween, and as the days of November roll by, I become more and more annoyed. Puzzled, too. I’d like to know if anyone else feels the same way. The media doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. On the contrary, it just adds to my confusion and dismay...

What the heck happened to Thanksgiving? I mean, we go from a huge Halloween hype to a huge Christmas hype and no one says a thing about Thanksgiving. Oh, sorry. I forgot about Black Friday. Everyone knows about the huge sales with the crazy shoppers on the Friday after Thanksgiving.

Oh, I get it. It’s all about the money, right? Let’s face it, Thanksgiving does not generate a whole lot of sales. After all, people are not rushing out to buy costumes so they can dress up like pilgrims and Native Americans on Thanksgiving Day. And, who buys Thanksgiving presents and wraps them in Thanksgiving wrapping paper? 

And what do kids care about Thanksgiving? Well, kids are far more interested in the Great Pumpkin and Santa Claus than Tom the Turkey. Maybe if someone created a turkey character that could scare the hell out of you when he flies down your chimney to deliver Thanksgiving dinner....well, maybe kids (and everyone else for that matter) would get a little more excited and pay a little more attention to the one day a year that’s set aside to simply give thanks.

Believe me, I’m not trying to create another worry for myself or take on a “cause” because I don’t need one more thing to worry about, do, or organize right now. I guess I’m just trying to shed some light on the importance of being thankful for the God-given gifts one has. Let’s face it, our society (as reflected in the media) seems far more focused upon buying more and more and more stuff “out there”...especially at this time of year...instead of looking at the gifts within. Honestly, this lack of attention to Thanksgiving thing has been a beef of mine for a long time, but this year I find myself more irritated than ever.

When Anthony was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, my perception of life, and everything in it, changed. It changed for the better. Kind of weird, isn’t it, that something so bad could change my life for the better? I guess it’s like that saying, “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” It’s true. When you are hit in the face with something terrible, you can let yourself fall right into it and let it gobble you up (no pun intended here), until every last bit of you has been consumed. Or, you can take a good look at it, acknowledge how much it really sucks, and then allow yourself to see how good the good things in your life really are. Some people might say this latter approach is keeping a positive attitude. I say it’s surviving with grace. That, in itself, is something to be thankful for.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays... Anthony’s, too. The closer it gets, the more excited we become, cancer or not. We enjoy spending time with family and cooking up a storm and having the house full of delicious fragrances and the people we love. When we gather ourselves around that Thanksgiving table and join our hands and hearts in prayer, it all comes together in that moment...What we have right then and there is all we need and more than we could ever ask for. 

Try to put that in a TV commercial and sell it.

Stay tuned for more reflections on Thanksgiving 2011.

One Serving of Boring, Please

The last couple of days have not been good. Not good at all. I feel as though I should apologize, but then again, I don’t want to. Why should I have to apologize for being angry and upset that my husband is sick? Why should I have to apologize for crying and feeling sad and being frustrated because nothing...NOTHING is the same? 

What happened to our ridiculously simple, relatively predictable, uncomplicated, peaceful life? What happened to getting up every morning at the same time and leaving the house together to go to work? What happened to talking to Anthony on the phone everyday at recess and at lunch, then picking him up after work in the afternoon, coming home and spending the rest of the evening together? Maybe it sounds boring to you, but who said boring can’t be happy? I’ll tell you what...If you feel like you do the same boring things day in and day out (especially if you get to do them with your loved ones), get down on your knees right now...right now...and thank God...because you are blessed beyond measure! I’d give anything to have normal back. I’d give anything to have our blissfully predictable, boring routine back.

I am ashamed of myself. Ashamed because, on occasion, I have been ungrateful and unappreciative of the things in my life. I haven’t done it on purpose, I promise. I think I’ve just been inattentive, perhaps? Well, shame on me for being blind to my blessings! Don’t tell me it’s a forgiveable offense...that people make mistakes once in a while... because, if I could, I would take back every single time I ever complained about anything in that old routine of mine. I confess. I’ve learned my lesson and I’m sorry. But, isn’t there some other way I could have been punished? I mean, why should Anthony have to suffer for my mistakes?

Well, there you go...I started out convinced I owed no one an apology, and now I’m blaming myself for everything and apologizing all over the place. OK, look, I know I’m not responsible for Anthony getting cancer...At least I’m pretty sure God doesn’t work that way. I’m also pretty sure my moments of sadness, even anger, over him being sick are fairly normal, so I won’t beat up on myself too much for that. But, I do believe I’ve been given the opportunity to look at myself, my life and the blessings in it, through a different lens...one that can zoom in on all those things I’ve overlooked or have been too nearsighted, at times, to see. And I feel terrible about that. Thank God my eyes have been opened...I suppose better late than never.

I guess sometimes it takes a good swift kick in the behind to get  our attention. Well, I got mine (my kick, that is), and I hope I won’t be comfortable sitting down any time soon...Not that I’m a glutton for punishment, but I don’t want to forget the lesson here. Right now, my eyes are open, I’m listening, and I’m paying attention. I pray to God I never lose sight again. I don’t ever want to look at my blessings and not really see them. Or worse...I never want to stare my blessings in the face and turn my nose up like a little kid frowns at the vegetables on her plate. 

Right now, with all the unknowns in my life, I find myself longing for those predictable days when Anthony and I would wake up each morning, rush around to get ready for work, and head on out the door together. I miss teaching music to my students... nevermind the crazy schedule with only five minutes between classes. I miss calling Anthony at recess and lunch and I miss seeing him smile when I pull up in front of his school each afternoon to pick him up and go home. I miss the days when the biggest problems around here were things like not having enough milk for my cereal, someone forgetting to run the dishwasher, or Jeopardy being pre-empted by a special news report. I know. Tragically boring.

Look, none of us knows what’s going to happen from one day to the next...not even from one minute to the next. But, if we’re lucky enough to have a routine that gives our lives some structure, some sense of predictability, we should thank God every minute of every day...even if it does get a little boring sometimes. Oh sure, we all long for a little adventure once in a while, some spontaneity to spice things up a bit. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But, right now, Anthony and I have more unpredictability on our plates than we can stomach. I’d love nothing more than a hefty serving of bland and boring predictability right about now. Believe me, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at it. I’d say my Grace, thank God, and then eat every last bite. Oh hell, I might even lick the plate.

Not-So-Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween. It usually is happy, but not tonight. 

It’s Halloween, and for the first time....ever....our lights are turned off and I am sequestered upstairs, in our bedroom. Anthony is braving it out downstairs in the family room, every light turned off, watching the news. I can’t bear to hear all the kids running around outside and having a great time, when we are not opening our door to give out candy. The dog isn’t even wearing her cute little Halloween costume she wears each year. What happened?

Anthony and I usually get excited about Halloween. Every year, he makes a big pot of chili and carves the pumpkins. I make a huge batch of my famous brownies. We come up with a password and give it to all our students. If they come to our house on Halloween and tell us the secret password, they get a brownie. We’ve had parents come in for a quick bite and visit while their kids take a bathroom break, get a drink, and wolf down a brownie. We’ve been known to dress up in costumes, too. The most memorable was Anthony’s fairy costume. I don’t know how many people stopped to take a picture of him. Some years have been utter pandemonium. 

Thinking of all those great times makes me even more sad. I feel this huge void...a great disconnect with life right now. So, what did happen? Why are we hiding ourselves in a dark house when the rest of the neighborhood is opening their doors to crowds of laughing children dressed up as princesses, ghosts, pirates, mermaids....you name it....with all of them yelling, “Trick or treat!” at the top of their lungs? What’s wrong with us?

Well, for one, the day started out pretty crummy. I intended to get up early this morning and go shopping. Candy was at the top of the list. But, when the alarm went off, I couldn’t get up. I think the stress of life these days has finally grabbed hold of me and is giving me a good shaking. All I know is that my neck muscles are so tight, my shoulders so sore, that if I move my head the wrong way, my arms get all tingly and numb. Not only that, I’m so tired and achy all over that I don’t even want to move. And I haven’t...moved, that is...pretty much all day.

So, I’ve been down for the count from the onset. Then, this afternoon, Anthony had a doctor appointment. And, for the first time since all this cancer crap started, he had to go by himself. I know he was nervous and also worried about me when he said he was going to call and reschedule. I told him he couldn’t. He was scheduled to have the mapping done for his radiation treatments. Cancelling or rescheduling could result in his treatments being delayed. So he went. Alone. By the time he got home, it was already late afternoon. He was exhausted. I wasn’t feeling any better. No one bought candy. No one carved pumpkins. No chili, no brownies, no costumes. No one is opening the door for trick-or-treaters as I sit, hiding, and writing in the dark.

I’m trying to imagine this happening without cancer in the picture. Like, what if Anthony and I both had the flu? Would I feel this sad about missing all the Halloween festivities? Does the cancer that hangs over us like a dark cloud just intensify the disappointment? Or am I feeling so bad because this is just one more thing that is different... changed...missing? Cancer has already taken so much away from us. I hate it! I don’t want our life together to change. I don’t want Anthony to be taken away from me anymore. I’m not willing to give up any more pieces of him...no matter how small.

Great. Now I have myself sobbing, crying so hard I can barely see what I’m typing. I’m shaking with sadness and anger and grief. None of this is fair. None of it makes any sense. And, no, I’m not crying over a missed Halloween. That’s just the proverbial straw that broke this camel’s back. That just gives me a reason, a tangible excuse to break down and cry hard enough to feel it breaking my heart.

Tonight, I can’t find my compass. Tonight I feel lost in the whirlwind of emotions that come crashing down on me when I think too long and hard about Anthony having pancreatic cancer. Tonight, I am not strong or brave or...or anything I want to be. Unlike the scores of little kids running around the neighborhood, all dressed up and pretending to be someone else, tonight I can’t put on the make-up and smile. Oh, trust me, I’d give anything to be ten years old again, believing I really am a princess, even if only for one night. The truth is, tonight, I can’t pretend everything is OK...not even for a minute. 

You Feel Great?...Seriously?

There are lots of things I love about Anthony...like everything. Then, there are the things I really love about him. Don’t worry... I’m not going to share all of them with you. You’ll be reading for hours. But, there are a couple of things about Anthony...the way he is, how he thinks...that make coping with his diagnosis a little bit easier for him. Now that I’ve put things in their proper perspective, I understand why.

One thing I really love about Anthony is his big heart and good natured spirit. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying he never gets upset or grumpy. If you spend enough time around Anthony, I’m sure you’ll eventually see him have one of his hissy fits. Oh, boy, he can go from zero to ten quicker than I can blink an eye. But, the thing is, he can have a blow-up, get his feelings out, and then he’s fine. Really fine...like five minutes later fine...and right back at zero. What’s even more amazing is that he seriously forgets about whatever it was that upset him. 

Another thing I really love about him is how he deals with adversity. Again, I’m not saying he never, ever feels down or gets worried, but he always manages to find at least one positive in a sea of negatives. Sure, there are times when he’s needed an encouraging word from me to point him back in the right direction, but Anthony usually finds the silver lining all on his own...and then he rejoices in it with such conviction and certainty that I eventually end up believing things will be OK, too. Even now. 

These are great qualities Anthony has, but isn’t it funny how sometimes a person’s good qualities can become irritating? For example, we’ve all encountered that overly helpful person who just doesn’t know when enough is enough. Or, how about that exceptionally nice person who is always smiling, cheerful and positive? You know the type. That overly sugary sweet disposition gives you the same kind of queasy stomach ache you get from eating a huge hot fudge sundae with way too much hot fudge. Well, Anthony’s good qualities are not over the top like that. They are perfectly within the realm of healthy, good behavior; but, I have to admit it...lately (like since he’s been sick), on occasion, I have found myself becoming a little irritated.

Now wait a minute...Give me a chance to explain before you take what I’m saying the wrong way. First of all, my irritation is not really caused by anything he is doing...Far from it. At least I’m able to figure out that my irritation must be about me...maybe about my fear and frustration. The truth is, Anthony’s attitude and approach to his illness is pretty amazing. And incredibly courageous. 

So, what’s my problem? Well, if anyone knows the truth about how Anthony is really feeling, I do. I’m with him 24/7. I don’t think I’ve been away from him more than a few hours since all this began...and that was months ago. So, when he talks to someone and says, “I feel really good. I don’t even feel sick. My appetite is good. No, I really don’t have a lot of pain,” I want to hit him. Sometimes, I just look at him and wonder if he’s lost his mind. I also wonder why I’m putting forth so much energy, getting upset, and worrying about him if he feels so great! Does that mean I can go back to work and focus my energies on teaching kids music, as long as he is feeling so fantastic?

Why does Anthony say he feels so wonderful when I know darn well that's not true? After giving this some serious thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that Anthony is not making this stuff up...When he tells people he feels great, he means it. He’s being true to himself, to who he is. It’s just like when he gets really upset about something and blows up for a minute. He gets it out of his system, lets it go, and totally forgets about it. I think when he’s telling people how great he feels, it’s because, at that moment in time, he’s probably feeling pretty good. He doesn’t remember that he had a bad stomach ache for a few hours the night before or that he spent half the day icing his back. All he’s thinking about when he’s talking on the phone or visiting with someone is the good stuff. He’s thinking about the conversation he’s having and the time he’s spending with that friend or family member right then and there. He lives in the moment and lets what is done be done. He looks for the positive, and he finds it in whatever he is doing. 

Anthony teaches me by example. I’ve already learned a lifetime of lessons from him, yet I continue to learn something new every day just by being with him and seeing the way he lives and loves. I am so proud to be married to such a strong and courageous man. When I call him my husband, I feel as though I automatically stand a little taller and speak more assertively. I realize my frustration with him telling people how great he feels is my problem. He does have good moments, and when he’s having those good moments, he forgets about the pain and discomfort and fatigue he experienced...even if it was only ten minutes ago, because when it’s over, it's over, and it's time to move on.

So, from now on, when I hear Anthony telling someone how great he feels, I’m going to believe him and smile. Instead of getting frustrated and wanting to smack him, I’ll remember who he is and go hug him as tightly as I can.

Love Hurts

This may sound a little weird, but ever since Sunday afternoon, three things keep making their way into my conscious thoughts...  the message of Sunday’s Gospel reading, various scenes from the movie Moonstruck, and the way Anthony and I love each other.  I’m not surprised if my musings appear random or disjointed to you; but, believe it or not, I did find the common thread weaving my tapestry of thoughts together. And I can’t stop thinking about it...LOVE. 

In Sunday’s Gospel, from Matthew 22, we heard Jesus talk about the greatest commandment. The bulk of the homily was a reflection upon these verses:

"You shall love the Lord, your God,

with all your heart,

with all your soul,

and with all your mind.

This is the greatest and the first commandment.

The second is like it:

You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

                                                              MATTHEW 22: 37-39

A few things Father said during his homily really struck me, and I’ve continued to ponder them. Allow me to share....First, he said that love is the source of our greatest joys in life, as well as the source of our deepest sorrows. Second, when we open ourselves to love, we become vulnerable. Jesus, hanging on the cross with arms stretched wide, is the perfect example of complete vulnerability. His outstretched arms were wide open to not only give and receive love, but to also receive the angry blows and the painful rejection of those who beat and crucified Him. Lastly, in order for us to love in the true Christ Spirit, we must also be willing to sacrifice ourselves as Jesus did. When we let go of our selfishness, we open ourselves to others in the Spirit of sacrificial love. 

They say laughter is good for the soul, so Anthony and I try to indulge ourselves frequently. We enjoy watching comedies, and one of our favorites is Moonstruck (1987). Remember that classic scene where Loretta (played by Cher) slaps Ronny (Nicholas Cage) across the face and yells, “Snap out of it!” when he says he loves her? Then, there's the scene where Ronnie tells Loretta, “But love don't make things nice, it ruins everything, it breaks your heart, it makes things a mess.” And, one of my favorites is an exchange between Loretta and her mom (Olympia Dukakis): “Do you love him, Loretta?” “Yeah, Ma, I love him awful.”  “Oh God, that's too bad.”  So, what does Moonstruck have to do with the Gospel of Matthew? Honestly, not a whole lot...But, I do think something about love is revealed, if you look hard enough. You see, beneath the humor, lies the truth...Love is inherently risky. Love requires vulnerability and that leaves us open to be hurt. The characters in this film know the flip side of love is pain, yet they are willing to go to the depths, to risk it all...all for love. 

Anthony and I love each other very deeply...and our love takes us to the depths. We have the kind of love that isn’t always easy. It’s a love that requires comittment, risk taking, and sacrifice. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t always feel happy and warm and fuzzy...It’s a love that breaks our hearts. When Anthony was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, my heart broke in a million pieces. It breaks over and over again when I see him sick or in pain. His heart breaks when he looks into my eyes and sees the worry I try to hide behind my smile. But, we wouldn’t have it any other way. We will continue to risk it all by opening our hearts to each other, the way Jesus opened Himself to us...completely vulnerable. It’s the only way to know the fullness and the beauty and the immense joy of love. Even though it hurts sometimes.

Can We Sleep With the Light On?

In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth... 

and the earth was without form or shape, with darkness over the abyss 

and a mighty wind sweeping over the waters...

Then God said: Let there be light, and there was light.

God saw that the light was good. God then separated the light from the darkness.

                                                                                                                                                                    GENESIS 1: 1-4

Have you ever been afraid of the dark? You know...like when you were a little kid? You remember...You’re lying in your bed, eyelids heavy with sleep, and a sweet dream no further than a goodnight kiss away, when you hear it. Wait. There it is again...A noise. A creaky, creepy, barely audible noise that starts your imagination running at full speed...Who’s under my bed? Is there someone outside my window? What’s hiding in my closet? What or who is lurking in the darkness, just waiting to get me? In the darkness, anyone...anything...could be as close as your teddy bear and you wouldn’t know because you can’t see without the light on. One flip of the switch is all it takes to silence the noises and send the boogie man away. Once that light goes on, the fear is extinguished.

In Genesis, God speaks light into existence. Wow...Imagine the voice of God, bellowing through the darkness, creating light. Just like that! I find it kind of interesting that the first thing a little kid (or anyone, for that matter) does when he’s scared of the dark is scream...A voice bellowing in the dark, calling for the light. I remember crying out for my mom and dad when I was afraid of the dark. All I needed to feel safe was one of them to come in and turn the light on. Hearing their footsteps approaching my room was enough to start chasing some of my fear away. But, the flip of the light-switch...now, that was a comforting sound because, with it, came the light that drove the monsters away. 

Being in the dark, literally or metaphorically, can be scary at any age. These days, Anthony and I have our little bouts of fear. If he has a new twinge of pain, it’s like hearing a creepy noise in the dark. Any new symptom or change in how he feels is enough to send me looking under the bed or checking inside the closet with every light in the house turned on.  The truth is, no matter how old we are, every single one of us still has fears. Sure, most of the time we walk around acting all big and brave and grown up, but at the end of the day, when the lights go out and we are alone with our thoughts, sometimes those fears surface and set off our internal panic buttons and, in an instant, we are five years old again. 

Well, I’ve decided that Anthony and I shouldn’t have to apologize for our occasional panic attacks. I’m also not going to be ashamed to admit that, sometimes, the cancer scares me. My fears are always greater at night, when sleep and stillness begin to settle down upon the house. When the lights are off and it’s dark, the cancer seems bigger and scarier...like a monster hiding under my bed...waiting to tighten its grip upon Anthony as soon as I close my eyes. When I feel that way, I stay with what’s familiar and I cry out. Well, maybe not out loud, but in my heart. I cry out to my Father in Heaven and say, “Abba! Papa! I’m scared! Please come and turn on the light.” And He does. He comes and opens the door of my heart, fills it with His love and peace, and that drives the darkness away.

Oh, one more thing...I’m also not (too) embarassed to admit that some nights just feel darker than others. I’m not sure why. Maybe I have a tougher than usual day. Maybe I’m overly tired...as my mom used to say. It doesn’t really matter why, but when the night seems especially dark, I just get up and turn on the light in our bathroom. Then, I go back to bed and imagine God smiling and slowly shaking his head. 

There's No Crying In Baseball

There’s no crying in baseball, right? Like hell there isn’t. I was crying just last night when my CARDS lost the second game of the World Series to the Rangers. I bet there were a lot of Cardinals fans crying right along with me. If you didn’t see the game, too bad for you. There were some definite nail biting moments...kind of like in the Big Game...you know, the game of life.

Now, I’m no sports reporter, by any means, so please forgive any mistakes I may make with the terminology as I give my brief overview of the game... 

For the first six innings, the score stayed an even zero to zero. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though. Both teams had their strike outs, ground outs, line outs, and fly outs. It wasn’t until the bottom of the third that anyone got a hit that actually put a man on base, although someone did walk in the second inning. Finally, in the bottom of the seventh, the Cardinals scored the first run. 

The Cardinals held the lead until the Rangers stole it (literally) in the top of the ninth. First, the Rangers got a single, then the pace suddenly picked up after a steal to second. An error turned the next single into a double which put the tying run on third and the winning run on second. Then, wouldn’t you know it? The next two batters sacrificed to get both men home. With the Cardinals at bat, in the bottom of the ninth, the score was Rangers -2, Cardinals - 1.  Molina got a walk, giving the Cardinals a brief moment of hope for at least tying it up, but two strike outs and a fly out later, it was all over.

Even though my boys lost, it was a great game. I kept thinking about how things changed so quickly at the very end. I was sure the Cardinals were going to win. It was strange how, in that ninth inning, when the Rangers took the lead, I felt my spirits suddenly drooping. It wasn’t until later, after I was in bed and unable to fall asleep, that I figured it out.

Life is kind of like the game last night. You try your best, you have your ups and downs, but for the most part, you go about the business of daily life on a fairly even keel. Sometimes, you have a little cushion, and you feel like you’re on top. I guess everyone has their own idea of what that cushion is, but for Anthony and me, we’ve always been happiest when the kids are all doing well, everyone is happy and healthy and life is normal. Sorry if that sounds boring. We don’t need a lot of extraneous stuff to make us happy. Kind of like the Cardinals having that one point lead. It’s not a lot, but it was all they needed to feel on top.

Then, one event starts a whole chain of events, and suddenly everything is upside down. You find yourself wondering what the heck happened and how it all happened so fast. You start looking at what you could have done differently, where you may have slipped up, dropped the ball, missed a play. If you could just go back and try it over again, maybe you could hold on to the little edge you had, that extra little slice of happiness. 

Well, I certainly don’t want to start my day being a sore loser. That’s no fun at all. Besides, it was only one game, and there is still a good chance my Cardinals can win the Series. I’ll call my 92-year-old Aunt Mame in St. Louis and we’ll give each other a little pep talk. And, as far as Anthony and I go, we’re going to be fine. We’re still very much in the game, too, and we’re not giving up any time soon. We’re hoping and praying and believing that Anthony’s going to come sliding into home base with that big winning run. And let me tell you...There will be plenty of joyful tears. Who said there’s no crying in baseball?

What I Care About

One of the cool things about having cancer in the house is that you can blame a bunch of stuff on it. OK, I know that sounds kind of bad...like a cop out. Well, right now, I don’t really care. That’s right, today, I just don’t care.

I’ll tell you what else I don’t care about today. I don’t care that the dog found something to eat...God knows what...on the kitchen floor a minute ago. Geez, I remember staying up until all hours mopping my floors and cleaning baseboards. Crazy, huh? Well, I had little kids crawling around and playing with my Tupperware on the kitchen floor while I cooked every day. That was their favorite stomping ground. They made some pretty cool stuff stacking all those containers. I wouldn’t let anyone put their kid on my kitchen floor today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today. 

Here’s another thing I don’t care about today...I don’t care that Anthony left a bandana, an ice pack, an empty glass, and a bunch of old newspapers on the table beside his chair in the family room. His mess is not hurting anyone. As a matter of fact, it all looks quite comfortable where it is, so I think I’ll leave it there for a little while longer.

I also don’t care that somebody left their sweatshirt hanging on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. Oh, and Davey left his guitar in the middle of the family room and a baseball glove on top of his amp that’s sitting practically in the entryway at the front door. He had a gig (or played guitar at a baseball game?) and was probably tired when he got home. Cancer in the house seems to make everyone really tired these days.

I also don’t care that the mail has piled up. That’s always been Anthony’s thing....opening the mail immediately and taking care of everything that arrives via our wonderful postal service. Well, I wish our friendly mail carrier would skip our house for a few days...just until we get caught up sorting through and opening what we already have. Or better yet...maybe he could just deliver the nice get well cards and other correspondence we get from family and friends that makes us smile. Now, that would be awesome.

I don’t care that the carpets could use a vacuuming, the bathroom could use a scrubbing, the porch could use a sweeping, and the laundry could use a laundering. About the only thing that doesn’t need doing is the dog getting a bath. Ha! That, I did this morning. And she looks and smells wonderful, by the way. Probably better than I do, since I look pretty much the same as I did when I rolled out of bed. Maybe next time, I’ll just hop in the tub with her and kill two birds with one stone. Um...maybe not.

You know, all the things that need to be done...the picking up and cleaning, the mail, and God knows how many other things... everything is exactly the way it is because there are people living in this house. All the things that need tending are signs of life. Maybe the messier part of living, but still, they are visible signs that people are living here. The crumbs on the kitchen floor are the happy reminders of Davey and his girlfriend laughing as they cooked dinner last night. Anthony’s little mess in his favorite corner, next to his favorite chair, lets me know he is here...and still very much alive. Maybe that’s why I’m in no big hurry to pick it all up. 

I’ll tell you something else...I’ve spent way too much time worrying about things that don’t really matter a whole hell of a lot. I’ve spent too much energy caring about what others might think or say. I don’t have time for that today. Today, I don’t care about what anything looks like on the outside. 

Today, when I look around the house and start thinking about all the things I should do, all the things that need to get done, I’m going to stop myself and say, “I don’t care about any of it, today.” Then, I’m going to look over at Anthony, who is quietly napping on the living room couch, with a very clean dog lying at his feet, and I’m going to smile. Anthony, and the people, (including the dog) who live in this house, are all in a good place right now... and all very much alive.

Now, that is something I care about.

My Cave

I have not blogged for a while. But you already know that. I didn’t mean to just disappear. I guess everything finally caught up with me because I feel as though I fell asleep one night and woke up in “my cave” the next morning. Since we’re being so forthright here, I can tell you that my cave has been around for a long  time...at least as long as I can remember. Sometimes, I find myself in it, and it takes me a while to find my way out. Sometimes, it takes me a little longer than I’d like. Over the years, I’ve learned that I can even get a little too comfortable there...in the silence and solitude of my cave. I know. It sounds a little creepy.

Well, I’ll tell you what's a little creepy for me...this blogging thing...where I pour out my guts, and all my feelings somehow make their way into words that suddenly appear on my screen. And then, I send them all off to the great internet cloud in the sky! I realize I’m taking a big chance, risking a lot, by being so open. It’s not really my style. (I’m not sure I even have a style.) As a matter of fact, Anthony, who understands me better than anyone on the planet (maybe even better than I understand myself!), was surprised when I told him I was going to start a blog about my journey with him through this cancer thing. I admitted that I was surprised, too...actually, more like shocked and terrified at the same time. Yet, I felt compelled to do it. I didn’t know why back then, and I’m not sure I know a whole lot more today. But, that’s OK, because I have found that the whys of what God asks of us are usually incomprehensible at the moment. But, He inevitably helps us figure it all out later. So, I’m staring my fear in the face and I'm doing it...I’m blogging...and I’m bearing (and baring) it all, and I’m hoping, from my limited scope of vision, that someone will be touched by the words I write. Of course, only God knows how far these words will go, who will ultimately read them, and who may actually need to hear them. That’s all up to Him.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to sound nobly altruistic because, honestly, I’m not that good. I am more than willing to consider that my call to blog is as much for my benefit as anyone’s. I need all the help I can get right now. My emotions are all over the place. You know what that’s like. Sometimes, we feel so many different things, we wonder if we’re normal or if anyone else has ever felt the same way. Then, we start judging ourselves or finding shame in what we feel. The shoulds and should nots start worming their ways into our thinking and, before we know it, we're wading in the muck and mire of mental flagellation. We get ourselves into a whole lot of trouble second guessing our thoughts and emotions...and we can also end up feeling very alone. Even with my entire committee of very colorful characters in my head, all fighting over my (our?) feelings, I feel very alone at times. Like when I spend too much time in my cave. Well, I’ve decided that this is not a good time for me to feel isolated and alone. It’s not a good time for any of us to feel that way because we need each other. I need you. Anthony needs us. 

Call it an artist’s temperament, a musician’s soul, or the deep and brooding side of my spirit...it’s all the same to me...it’s my cave, and I can’t promise that I won’t end up there again. I know better than to make promises like that. Sometimes, it’s just where I am, where I have to be...in order to still be me. But, I will promise you this...I will let you know that all is as well as can be the next time I find myself there, because I don’t want you to think I’ve disappeared or that I don’t care or that I don’t need you. Because I do care very much. And, because, the next time I go to my cave, I’ll eventually have to come out again...and I’ll need you to be there. Yes, when I poke my head out and can finally open my eyes to the light, I hope the first thing I see is you.