" Remember-ies "

2008 is nearly history. Thursday, 2009 arrives in full regatta. It is that time of the year when the majority look back at the year's highlights and lowlights, things that inspired us and things that dampened our spirits. Me, I like to believe I'm a positive person, looking at the glass half full rather than half empty. It takes as much effort to smile as it does to frown! (probably use the same muscles, come to think of it) For me, 2008 has many moments, some "remember-ies", that brought a smile to my face. I remember
.....partying and singing our hearts out in Cotton's ski boat drydocked in his garage one late winter night, a night that we laughed so hard, we all cried!
.....Larry falling into the Lake, not once, not twice, but three times!
.....the greatest surprise ever on Mother's Day when I got Max, my new puppy!
.....the doctor's words: The cancer is gone.
.....the hilarious weekend battle of the racoons!
.....many nights gathered around the campfires, enjoying the company of friends and family.
.....my first three-day sleepover on Larry and Debra's luxurious houseboat in Arkansas.
.....the attraction of Willie Nelson's music for the local police!
.....the hottub parties listening to good music and pleasurable company!
.....the many weekend boating days on the Lake.

And the list could go on and on.... Our daily lives make remember-ies for later years, moments for us to enjoy when we are old and gray! 2009 comes with a clean slate; fill it to the fullest!

Christmas

The day has finally arrived, the one all kids everywhere are impatiently waiting for--Christmas Eve! Santa's Day! This is the day the clock hands seem to move oh so slowly, if at all. In Christmases past, I remember looking and checking the kitchen clock continually throughout the day. It occurred to me that Santa might never come. Mom had all these kitchen preparations to do, and then we had to eat (which I thought was totally unnecessary!) When Katie and I were 6 and 8 years old, my oldest four brothers and sisters were in their late teens, early 20's. Jerry, the oldest had been at U of I as a student, my two sisters were slaving away at their jobs in Clayton, and Danny was in the Air Force. Looking back, I guess they all shared in the "Santa Experience", helping Mom and Dad make the night truly special for Katie and me. Santa had his routine; he never showed until after we toured the town, catching all the lighted homes on display. By money standards, we were not a rich family, but to me, we never wanted for anything. Mom made sure that all seven kids had a safe haven, and she helped to make "memories" for us down the road. Things we can reflect on in our later lives. Dad was the sort that let Mom call the shots; what she wanted, Dad acquiesced graciously (most of the time!) We were, and still are, a close-knit, happy family. Granted, we are spread out across the country, from California to Florida, but are still in each other's thoughts. Merry Christmas, Family, and a Happy New Year!

"Realio Trulio"

Every week in the St. Louis Post Dispatch, there runs a column "Life Serpa". The columnist portrays a whimsical, off-the-wall character who relates the masculine viewpoint on the world around him. Recently, since the Obama election, he spoke of his core beliefs, those that he as a male found undeniably true. He made me think of my own.
I really believe
....a martini at 4:00 o'clock solves all world problems.
....losing weight is permanently temporary.
....sharing is a learned trait and one needs Robbie as a role model.
....wishing your life away does just that.
....a steak grilled by Cotton will be grilled to perfection.
....a person with no friends simply cannot be happy.
....a positive attitude cures everything.
....Larry's little pat on my butt is his "I love you today."
....the closest place to heaven is Florida.
....brothers and sisters get better with age---your own, that is!
....the Christmas Spirit should be a vacine mandated by law.
....spilled milk is just that; clean it up and move on.
....retirement comes at the wrong age.
....sugared words are tasteless.
....that thinking of winning the weekly football pool is futile.

Enjoy the world and simply LIVE.

Reflections on a Penny

There it was...lying among the gravel on the lake road. The penny. While taking Max for his morning walk, I spotted it, dirty and scratched. For most people, even kids, stooping down to pick up a penny seems utterly ridiculous. After all, what does one cent buy nowdays anyway? But for me, it has a whole new meaning. A penny found brings me an instant reflection of my Dad. I truly don't know when this habit started, nor why it began. It just has been a part of my make-up through the years. Don't get me wrong. Dad wasn't an over-bearing miser, and he never did preach to me to become a penny-pincher. Somehow there is an association with Dad and a penny for me. As I turn the penny over and over in my hands, memories of Dad pop up--things he did, stuff he said, the way he looked. And I know that all is right with my world. Dad has been dead for thirty-nine years, the same number of years as I have been married to Larry. Dad died six weeks before my marriage, so we sort of share the same anniversary. A penny popping up on the sidewalk, the driveway, the road means he's with me for a moment. I look at it as a superstition of sorts, I guess, but a found penny conjures happy thoughts. Six years ago (almost to this very day) my brother Ron passed away. I remember Katie and me took a walk outside while waiting for them to remove his body, and you know what? I found a penny and instantly knew Dad was taking Ronnie under his wings and I need not worry about him. Everything was going to be all right.
A month ago when Larry and I crossed the hospital parking lot for his extensive surgery that morning, I deliberately searched for a penny, but found none. All I could think of was that not finding a penny was a bad omen. As I sat in the waiting room, though, I realized that not finding it still made me think of Dad...and Ronnie...and Mom, so it was still OK. The effect was the same. Happy thoughts.

Fall in All Its Glory

Recently, my sister, Katie, turned "leaf" peeper on a visit to Vermont. When she shared her photos of the weekend excursion, I was jealous! It was only then that I took a long look around our own countryside. The fall colors were vibrant and alive with shades of orange, yellow, and red spilling across the landscape. Autumn had truly begun her Broadway show.



Our "humble" Illinois can definitely compete with the Vermont landscape. Mother Nature is disrobing the trees; leaves are falling and the wind is blowing. Our farm country is changing, the air crisper. I headed outdoors, camera and Max our dog in tow, to document Autumn's beauty. No matter where I went...hiking the trail at Hazlett Park, walking the dam, driving the streets of Carlyle...the scenes were popping with Fall's palette. It is a season of superb color effects, free for our enjoyment and entertainment. Right here in our own backyard! Hey, New Englanders, eat your heart out! We have the colors without the crowds!

Price-less

Gas to and from Hospital: $145.50
Seven-night stay in Hospital: $4,263.00
2 Cystocopies, 2 transurethral resections, 1 urostomy: $54,000.00
Larry home, cancer-free: PRICELESS !

The Story of the Big "C"

Do you realize that no single letter of the alphabet conjures up more gloom and dread than the Big "C" ? Not the small letter, but capitalized. It even comes with its own adjective, big, as though it has a first name. Its impact is that of a twenty kiloton bomb, leaving a mile-wide crater shattering your very soul. It's the stuff of movies, books, and TV, but somehow not your own life. It doesn't happen to you but to other people. One day all is fine, and then the next night you are lying in bed next to a loved one that has it. The "it" being cancer.
The. Big. "C".
Spoken with a hard "k" sound rather than the soft "s". Hard probably because it hits you that way. Today is the day we begin readying for surgery: packing a bag, fasting all day, boarding Max, our dog with our son. We'll be working on small unfinished duties, like setting out the garbage, putting the last of the gutter-guards on, moving the tropical plants inside because when the hospital stay is over, there is no lifting, only recuperation. I say "we" because Larry and I have always been one identity. Not a you, nor an I, but always we and us. I guess forty years of marriage does that to a couple. The surgery, hopefully, excises all cancerous cells and obliterates them to oblivion. In its wake will be new plumbing for Larry and some piece of mind. It's also the beginning of a "new normal" for us. A new routine to be learned, a new lifestyle to embrace whether we want to or not. The Big "C" has decided it to be so. The Story of the Big "C" doesn't ever have an ending. The cancer looms large in the psychic, always in the back of your mind, always making you wonder, "Is is really gone?" I guess in the scheme of things, on a world-wide spectrum, Larry's cancer doesn't have equal bearing to the conflict in the Middle East, to the homeless, to those families in far more pain than us, but it doesn't make it any easier to live with... Our familiy and friends have been our support on this roller coaster ride. The phone calls, the emails, the cards, and prayers are sustaining us. When our lives took a 180 turn, these things enabled us to get through the days. In the ensuing days and weeks to come, I'm sure we will make it, Larry and I. We did in the past and we will in the future. That's because we have each other.