Before I write part 2 of my Halcyon Days post, I wanted to post this one to express appreciation to our fallen and to express patriotism.
Some people look down on that as being "corny" or something. This is something I just don't really understand.
I love this country. God Bless America. That is more than just a song - which makes me cry, by the way - it is absolutely a prayer for this nation.
I thank God every day that my own son and my own nephew did not pay the ultimate sacrifice. Selfish? Perhaps. And yet I know that every mother, every wife, every family member of a military man who survives feels exactly the same way.
Do we feel a little guilty at that relief? Yes. More than the guilt, however, is the gratitude that while we may even now be blue star family members, we are not gold star family members.
That is a club that no one wants to join. I absolutely give honor to every gold star family member.
In 2010, we visited Washington D.C. and it was absolutely an honor to visit Arlington National Cemetery. This is a beautiful cemetery. I had no desire whatsoever to visit the grave of JFK and most especially because "Teddy" was buried there. (Sorry any Kennedy fans - that younger brother was one evil piece of work.)
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, however, was our truest goal. We waited to see the changing of the guard ceremony. What a powerful and moving ceremony that is.
We looked out on what seems like an ocean of white military grave markers. And we thanked our Lord and Savior to be able to do so and to be able to look at them without what must surely be a bitter-sweet knowledge of one of our own being there.
It is an honor to be buried at Arlington. It is an honor to be buried at any military cemetery as it is a sign of your service to our nation. Arlington is special. There is limited space available and for most families in this country it is additionally an inconvenience. It is a sacrifice they may choose to make in order to give an additional respect and honor to their loved one who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Thank you to our fallen who lay at rest, wherever they may lay at rest. Thank you to the "Old Guard" who daily honor the unknowns and that for which the unknowns stand - all military men and women who served and died with honor. Thank you to all Gold Star family members for your loved ones. May they rest in peace, and may your hearts find peace in their sacrifice.
God Bless America.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
Halcyon Days Part 1
2011and part of 2012 were so very hard - painful, frightening, worrisome. 2011 especially was like a black hole in my life.
I completed Herceptin infusion on April 19th and that event seemed to open up the world to me again. I went on a great trip with my beloved husband, I scheduled (and completed on July 10th of this year) my revision surgery. Beyond any of my control in 2012 - BOTH of my sons married --to lovely women who give them joy-- and I have three beautiful grandchildren!!
I feel like I can relax into life again.
I believe that I have expressed this before - but come on kids - I seem to have a mind like a steel sieve, leaking thoughts out all over the place that may or may not ever again resurface.
I have been graduated to every 6 months visiting my oncologist and my last CT scan was good - clear - and I no longer have to have any of them. I have an appointment to have my infusion port removed this Tuesday coming up. I am very excited about that, I must say! I have always hated my "alien space invader", as I have called it. Nonetheless - I plan on keeping the removed port. It has been suggested I should make it into a necklace. Hmm. Well, maybe.
I am living halcyon days.
Through very trying times I have persevered with a great network of loving support. My family has been so wonderful. I could see each step of the way how frightening this cancer battle has been for them! I was made strong through weakness because they stood in strength for me. I think they are even yet unaware of how they stood in strength for me, so I am going to say here and now.
My loving husband, Ruben
I knew he loved me before this. During and now after - I KNOW he loves me. He helped care for me when I needed it, even helping me with my surgical drains, which is no lovely thing to do. I know how much he worried over every step I took. Quite literally - the first time he left me at home alone he threatened me most severely with "If you fall, if you do anything that causes you any harm I will never leave you alone again." He meant it, too! Now, admittedly, I had passed out when I got up and went to sit on the edge of the tub once when he was going to help me with the drains. I had thought I just slipped and knocked my head on the edge of the tub. Seems, though, that I passed out and fell and hit my head on the edge of the tub and told myself that it was just a slip. He was there and fully conscious, though, so one must assume he had the more accurate picture. He has held me in quiet support when boo hoo sobbing overwhelmed me at the loss of everything that came with this particular package trip. He has laughed with me and loved me and somehow quite mysteriously still found me attractive. Indeed, he has still found me beautiful. I would shout it to the world from every rooftop, every mountaintop, every available stage - this man is the love of my life. This man is the knight in shining armor that my mother wanted me to find but that I never believed existed. He does, he is, and I love him - full throttle.
My sons, Dante and Troy.
Troy was here right before I had surgery for only a visit but drove me to the hospital for my pre-hospitalization stuff. Then he made me go to lunch with him and my ex-husband. On Valentine's Day. That was strange, huh? Well I didn't consider at all that it was Valentine's Day as there were many other things on my mind, yeah? Troy kept tabs on me as he could and I know he loves his mom by his "pestiferous" behavior, as my dad used to call it. I know he would have done more if he was able, and I hope he knows I know that.
Dante, bless his heart, was right here in town and was therefore able to help more. He was there waiting at the hospital with Ruben when I had surgery. Dante is a great worrier - sorry son, that you got double worry genes! In spite of - or perhaps, because of - this, he was anxious for my well being and I must thank him for his actions thereof.
Men are most comfortable with fixing things, taking action, doing what they can as contrasted with just being there. Dante forbade me from doing the kitty litter. For 18 months he faithfully would come over, do his laundry, hang out and change the kitty litter boxes for me. Could I have done it earlier? Well, yes, but this was a way for him to demonstrate his love for me and I valued it. He and his brother teased and laughed with me, related other people's concerns for my situation to me, talked with me and loved me through it.
My sweet friend and "private nurse" Darlene
The night of my surgery, Darlene insisted she would stay with me in the hospital. Darlene is a nurse herself and she wanted to be sure I was properly taken care of and looked after. I was admittedly a bit groggy during much of this night. I could taste the anesthetic in me. FOUL! Darlene would ask me if I was okay because I was determined to get that nasty sleep gas OUT of me and I would exhale deeply. You know that is gas that will have to escape your body somehow and if you don't exhale it - it will give you extreme cramps as it finds its way into your abdomen. We neither one of us slept well that night but we'd waken and chat as she kept watch over me like my own angel. At one point in the night the street light was shining SO brightly right in our eyes through the window and we talked about that to realize that we were, after all, on the seventh floor and it was a full moon shining in at us. We laughed about that truly blonde moment!! We both were very much impressed about the nurses on the "cancer floor" and I know she felt confident I was getting very good care there.
I will keep the rest of this post for another day - I want to start my moving forward NOW, and too long a post will inhibit both readership and my writing it as well.
I completed Herceptin infusion on April 19th and that event seemed to open up the world to me again. I went on a great trip with my beloved husband, I scheduled (and completed on July 10th of this year) my revision surgery. Beyond any of my control in 2012 - BOTH of my sons married --to lovely women who give them joy-- and I have three beautiful grandchildren!!
I feel like I can relax into life again.
I believe that I have expressed this before - but come on kids - I seem to have a mind like a steel sieve, leaking thoughts out all over the place that may or may not ever again resurface.
I have been graduated to every 6 months visiting my oncologist and my last CT scan was good - clear - and I no longer have to have any of them. I have an appointment to have my infusion port removed this Tuesday coming up. I am very excited about that, I must say! I have always hated my "alien space invader", as I have called it. Nonetheless - I plan on keeping the removed port. It has been suggested I should make it into a necklace. Hmm. Well, maybe.
I am living halcyon days.
Through very trying times I have persevered with a great network of loving support. My family has been so wonderful. I could see each step of the way how frightening this cancer battle has been for them! I was made strong through weakness because they stood in strength for me. I think they are even yet unaware of how they stood in strength for me, so I am going to say here and now.
My loving husband, Ruben
I knew he loved me before this. During and now after - I KNOW he loves me. He helped care for me when I needed it, even helping me with my surgical drains, which is no lovely thing to do. I know how much he worried over every step I took. Quite literally - the first time he left me at home alone he threatened me most severely with "If you fall, if you do anything that causes you any harm I will never leave you alone again." He meant it, too! Now, admittedly, I had passed out when I got up and went to sit on the edge of the tub once when he was going to help me with the drains. I had thought I just slipped and knocked my head on the edge of the tub. Seems, though, that I passed out and fell and hit my head on the edge of the tub and told myself that it was just a slip. He was there and fully conscious, though, so one must assume he had the more accurate picture. He has held me in quiet support when boo hoo sobbing overwhelmed me at the loss of everything that came with this particular package trip. He has laughed with me and loved me and somehow quite mysteriously still found me attractive. Indeed, he has still found me beautiful. I would shout it to the world from every rooftop, every mountaintop, every available stage - this man is the love of my life. This man is the knight in shining armor that my mother wanted me to find but that I never believed existed. He does, he is, and I love him - full throttle.
My sons, Dante and Troy.
Troy was here right before I had surgery for only a visit but drove me to the hospital for my pre-hospitalization stuff. Then he made me go to lunch with him and my ex-husband. On Valentine's Day. That was strange, huh? Well I didn't consider at all that it was Valentine's Day as there were many other things on my mind, yeah? Troy kept tabs on me as he could and I know he loves his mom by his "pestiferous" behavior, as my dad used to call it. I know he would have done more if he was able, and I hope he knows I know that.
Dante, bless his heart, was right here in town and was therefore able to help more. He was there waiting at the hospital with Ruben when I had surgery. Dante is a great worrier - sorry son, that you got double worry genes! In spite of - or perhaps, because of - this, he was anxious for my well being and I must thank him for his actions thereof.
Men are most comfortable with fixing things, taking action, doing what they can as contrasted with just being there. Dante forbade me from doing the kitty litter. For 18 months he faithfully would come over, do his laundry, hang out and change the kitty litter boxes for me. Could I have done it earlier? Well, yes, but this was a way for him to demonstrate his love for me and I valued it. He and his brother teased and laughed with me, related other people's concerns for my situation to me, talked with me and loved me through it.
My sweet friend and "private nurse" Darlene
The night of my surgery, Darlene insisted she would stay with me in the hospital. Darlene is a nurse herself and she wanted to be sure I was properly taken care of and looked after. I was admittedly a bit groggy during much of this night. I could taste the anesthetic in me. FOUL! Darlene would ask me if I was okay because I was determined to get that nasty sleep gas OUT of me and I would exhale deeply. You know that is gas that will have to escape your body somehow and if you don't exhale it - it will give you extreme cramps as it finds its way into your abdomen. We neither one of us slept well that night but we'd waken and chat as she kept watch over me like my own angel. At one point in the night the street light was shining SO brightly right in our eyes through the window and we talked about that to realize that we were, after all, on the seventh floor and it was a full moon shining in at us. We laughed about that truly blonde moment!! We both were very much impressed about the nurses on the "cancer floor" and I know she felt confident I was getting very good care there.
I will keep the rest of this post for another day - I want to start my moving forward NOW, and too long a post will inhibit both readership and my writing it as well.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Mimi to the Third Power
I have had a post floating around in my head about the halcyon days I am living for some time now. That post will have to wait a little bit longer. I am overwriting it with this one about some of my more particular blessings....
After a tough patch - which, if you have been reading this blog, you know about - 2012 started bringing in some rather pronounced blessings.
Even while the difficult period still lingered, my younger son got married early in the year. My dear husband and I took a long awaited and much needed vacation out West (which was a blast!) My beautiful, precious granddaughter was born. She carries as her middle name my mother's name, which lends an additional sweetness to her arrival to we three sisters. We took a trip up to NJ to meet her and visit the little family. Bless her then little colicky heart! Alleluia she is not plagued with colic any more! My older son got married. That brought us as well a 4 year old grandson. So funny - 4 is quite an age. Oh - did I mention that both my daughters-in-law are lovely women. Not just outside, INSIDE. My sons seem settled and happy. This year it continues. Troy, Elisa, and Annachiara came for a visit. My newest grandson was born a week ago.
Annachiara -- now just shy of 8 months old. She seems like a happy little baby girl, prone to giggling and shining brightly out of her sweet little face. Her sweet little dimpled face. Oooh - mama and papa - watch out for those little mischief dimples.
Tristan - 4 years old and full of curiosity and, as my mom used to say, "pus and vinegar". He has excellent communication skills, and a sweet nature. He is, of course, 4 years old which also means he will try you to the maximum extent of his persuasive skills and charm. Ah, well do I remember having to chastise my own two and then leaving the room to laugh so as NOT to okay unacceptable behavior. They are so funny at 4.
Luca - So tiny and dear, this little guy who has his daddy's miniaturized face - and worried look. Wow - a week old today!
I also have two granddaughters in waiting. My dear husband's oldest daughter is planning on wedding soon enough (or not soon enough) and will bring me a 12 year old and a 10 year old as granddaughters - Angelina and Makinzie. We are starting to get to know them a bit at a time and I can not help but reflect how amusing it is that all ages and stages are covered sort of at once. That is, from diapers to ballet recitals (soon) and such. From "football" (which really means "chase me, chase me") and hide and go seek in the back yard to "lady luncheons" and girly movies to cuddle time with infants in arms all within the same week even.
I am so grateful for so many blessings. I am grateful for even those very difficult times which God turns into blessings.
After a tough patch - which, if you have been reading this blog, you know about - 2012 started bringing in some rather pronounced blessings.
Even while the difficult period still lingered, my younger son got married early in the year. My dear husband and I took a long awaited and much needed vacation out West (which was a blast!) My beautiful, precious granddaughter was born. She carries as her middle name my mother's name, which lends an additional sweetness to her arrival to we three sisters. We took a trip up to NJ to meet her and visit the little family. Bless her then little colicky heart! Alleluia she is not plagued with colic any more! My older son got married. That brought us as well a 4 year old grandson. So funny - 4 is quite an age. Oh - did I mention that both my daughters-in-law are lovely women. Not just outside, INSIDE. My sons seem settled and happy. This year it continues. Troy, Elisa, and Annachiara came for a visit. My newest grandson was born a week ago.
Annachiara -- now just shy of 8 months old. She seems like a happy little baby girl, prone to giggling and shining brightly out of her sweet little face. Her sweet little dimpled face. Oooh - mama and papa - watch out for those little mischief dimples.
Tristan - 4 years old and full of curiosity and, as my mom used to say, "pus and vinegar". He has excellent communication skills, and a sweet nature. He is, of course, 4 years old which also means he will try you to the maximum extent of his persuasive skills and charm. Ah, well do I remember having to chastise my own two and then leaving the room to laugh so as NOT to okay unacceptable behavior. They are so funny at 4.
Luca - So tiny and dear, this little guy who has his daddy's miniaturized face - and worried look. Wow - a week old today!
I also have two granddaughters in waiting. My dear husband's oldest daughter is planning on wedding soon enough (or not soon enough) and will bring me a 12 year old and a 10 year old as granddaughters - Angelina and Makinzie. We are starting to get to know them a bit at a time and I can not help but reflect how amusing it is that all ages and stages are covered sort of at once. That is, from diapers to ballet recitals (soon) and such. From "football" (which really means "chase me, chase me") and hide and go seek in the back yard to "lady luncheons" and girly movies to cuddle time with infants in arms all within the same week even.
I am so grateful for so many blessings. I am grateful for even those very difficult times which God turns into blessings.
Monday, February 4, 2013
A Tale of Cherry Pie And Other Luscious Treats
A number of years ago I had decided to make a cherry pie for dessert.
I had the oven pre-heated, the rest of the meal was in the works, the crusts rolled out and ready to be used.
As you may know, it requires TWO cans of cherry pie filling to make a cherry pie. I opened one can and poured it into the waiting pie crust. I took the plastic lid off of the other can so I could pop it open for use only to discover it somehow had an imperfection in its closing and the filling had started leaking out by the pop top ring and there was green mold growing on it.
Dang.
I was far enough along in the process to not have time to stop everything, go to the store, buy another can and get back home in time for this pie to be ready for eating that evening. There were no other pie fillings in the house. Doggone it...
Oh, wait! I did have something else I could use to fill it out and make a full pie.
So I opened up the jar and put some in the cherry pie filling, lovingly placed the top crust on and baked it - hoping for the best.
I did not mention to anyone what I had done and I really should tell you that I am laughing out loud thinking of this misadventure right now, making it a little tricky to type!
So the pie bakes up in its own lovely pie-ness (new word) and cools for consumption.
We eat our meal which I can not begin to tell you what we had to eat for the meal. This cherry pie story completely overwhelms the rest of the meal.
I bring the pie out and cut and serve it. The hubby (Ruben) and both sons, Dante and Troy are looking forward to dessert with great appetite. We just don't have dessert every night and this is a treat.
Troy plows in to his pie (he's maybe 15 or 16 here), chews thoughtfully and asks me "What kind of pie is this?"
"It's cherry pie." I respond with a straight face and in a serious tone.
He takes another bite, chews it and is obviously trying to figure out what IS that other flavor in there? "Cherry and what else?" he finally asks.
Okay I have to admit that at this point keeping a straight face is pretty much out of the question as he has a look on his face that screams a belief he is somehow being duped.
I start laughing as I say "Mincemeat." My explanation as to my resorting to mincemeat is so ignored. I like mincemeat, personally. My sons - oh not so much.
Roll forward these several years. Cherry - mincemeat pie is NOT forgotten. I receive many reminders from my sons over the years and we actually all laugh about it. So on Friday (2/1/2013) I get on SKYPE with Troy and he starts relating a story to me.
His opening commentary is "Well, I have a story to top the cherry-mincemeat pie, mom. That was really mean by the way."
It was NOT mean - you just read my explanation!!
Troy continued. "I made us lunch today. We had some gnocchi, I made a salad for the lady (as he frequently refers to my lovely daughter-in-law) and we were both in the mood for some dessert. So I go into the kitchen, cut this chocolate in half to share it equally, and I take a bite out of mine." He holds up the two pieces and you can clearly see there is a bite out of part of it.
"Then I think, hmm. This is not chocolate. Oh - it's soap!"
When we had gone on our vacation out West last year I had run across the cutest little white bear shaped soaps at Yellowstone and I bought two Buffalo shaped soaps for Dante and Troy as well. I had put them aside as little stocking-stuffers for them.
Troy CLAIMED that these several hours later his tongue was still numb from the bite of soap. Come on - have you ever in your life seen chocolate wrapped in ONLY cellophane with no label on it? Food always has some label on it.
I guess this will also go down with the charcoal cookies I bake all of the time. STOP!! I am actually a good cook. ONE SINGLE time I put cookies back in the oven for just one minute more and completely forgot about them. They did look like charcoal when I remembered. But that was one single time!!!
Family. Let's share those good times.
Remember to check for your food labels!
I had the oven pre-heated, the rest of the meal was in the works, the crusts rolled out and ready to be used.
As you may know, it requires TWO cans of cherry pie filling to make a cherry pie. I opened one can and poured it into the waiting pie crust. I took the plastic lid off of the other can so I could pop it open for use only to discover it somehow had an imperfection in its closing and the filling had started leaking out by the pop top ring and there was green mold growing on it.
Dang.
I was far enough along in the process to not have time to stop everything, go to the store, buy another can and get back home in time for this pie to be ready for eating that evening. There were no other pie fillings in the house. Doggone it...
Oh, wait! I did have something else I could use to fill it out and make a full pie.
So I opened up the jar and put some in the cherry pie filling, lovingly placed the top crust on and baked it - hoping for the best.
I did not mention to anyone what I had done and I really should tell you that I am laughing out loud thinking of this misadventure right now, making it a little tricky to type!
So the pie bakes up in its own lovely pie-ness (new word) and cools for consumption.
We eat our meal which I can not begin to tell you what we had to eat for the meal. This cherry pie story completely overwhelms the rest of the meal.
I bring the pie out and cut and serve it. The hubby (Ruben) and both sons, Dante and Troy are looking forward to dessert with great appetite. We just don't have dessert every night and this is a treat.
Troy plows in to his pie (he's maybe 15 or 16 here), chews thoughtfully and asks me "What kind of pie is this?"
"It's cherry pie." I respond with a straight face and in a serious tone.
He takes another bite, chews it and is obviously trying to figure out what IS that other flavor in there? "Cherry and what else?" he finally asks.
Okay I have to admit that at this point keeping a straight face is pretty much out of the question as he has a look on his face that screams a belief he is somehow being duped.
I start laughing as I say "Mincemeat." My explanation as to my resorting to mincemeat is so ignored. I like mincemeat, personally. My sons - oh not so much.
Roll forward these several years. Cherry - mincemeat pie is NOT forgotten. I receive many reminders from my sons over the years and we actually all laugh about it. So on Friday (2/1/2013) I get on SKYPE with Troy and he starts relating a story to me.
His opening commentary is "Well, I have a story to top the cherry-mincemeat pie, mom. That was really mean by the way."
It was NOT mean - you just read my explanation!!
Troy continued. "I made us lunch today. We had some gnocchi, I made a salad for the lady (as he frequently refers to my lovely daughter-in-law) and we were both in the mood for some dessert. So I go into the kitchen, cut this chocolate in half to share it equally, and I take a bite out of mine." He holds up the two pieces and you can clearly see there is a bite out of part of it.
"Then I think, hmm. This is not chocolate. Oh - it's soap!"
When we had gone on our vacation out West last year I had run across the cutest little white bear shaped soaps at Yellowstone and I bought two Buffalo shaped soaps for Dante and Troy as well. I had put them aside as little stocking-stuffers for them.
Troy CLAIMED that these several hours later his tongue was still numb from the bite of soap. Come on - have you ever in your life seen chocolate wrapped in ONLY cellophane with no label on it? Food always has some label on it.
I guess this will also go down with the charcoal cookies I bake all of the time. STOP!! I am actually a good cook. ONE SINGLE time I put cookies back in the oven for just one minute more and completely forgot about them. They did look like charcoal when I remembered. But that was one single time!!!
Family. Let's share those good times.
Remember to check for your food labels!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)