Forever and a Day

I have been reluctant to write for quite some time, trying to deal with all of the life events of friends and family. On Palm Sunday about 9am, my mother became a widow. Brian's death did not come as a surprise, of course, since he had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer in September of 2009. But he seemed to do well with the surgery, chemo and radiation, and was at least, holding his own until the cancer returned around Christmastime. He never really recovered from the second major surgery- marked by one mishap after another-a head bleed, leakage of spinal fluid from his ear, delirium, a stroke that left him with poor strength on his right side, and then countless hours of rehab, followed by a restless course at home with hospice care. The end is never easy, and his wasn't either as my mom and his son, Vernon, struggled with him until his placement in the hospice facility in Mt. Pleasant. Even the last little bit dragged on more than usual, until Palm Sunday when he passed away just before 9 am.

We had a church memorial for him that Wednesday followed by the scattering of his ashes off the dock at their house. The service was terrific with Father Charlie, their former minister, doing the eulogy. Charlie had know Brian and my mother for a long time, and he really conveyed that familiarity in his remarks. The memorial included a full church service, something that I think Brian would have really liked. The scattering of the ashes involved just family-all of us huddled together on the dock, at extremely low tide, watching his dust scatter in the wind and water. Amazing that such a big guy is reduced to not much more than a gallon sized bag of ashes and bits of bone after cremation. I scooped a big handful of the gray dust and bone shards to feel him between my fingers for the last time- a welcome relief after all of the words and feelings that had been swirling about all day. The wind took some of the dust into that shallow water and mud and blew some of it onto my pants leg and the dock surface. It felt so good to have a bit of bone in my handful and get to feel something solid. But that is just the way we are, isn't it, holding onto solid forms for as long as we can. I was so glad that we could scatter Brian's ashes exactly where he wanted to be-the very place he most loved in the world. It makes me tear up even now to think about how sweet that was. How it made me feel part of something bigger than myself, than any of us. What a delight to share all of that community and fellowship in Brian's honor. I know that I was not the saddest person there that day, but I had my own special reasons for being sad and touched and fortunate to be there as a LIVING being, given all I have been through with my own cancers. It makes me all the more grateful and pleased to be here.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

I'm pretty sure my Irish ancestors somewhere would be proud of the 10K run we did as a benefit in Asheville this past w-e. Lots of people were dressed up, in lots of green, for the Shamrock run, which proved to be a challenging 6 miler up and over quite a few hills in our area of town. It threatened to rain but held off, giving us a beautiful day to enjoy the views from Sunset Mtn Rd toward downtown and the mtn range west of town. As one woman said to me as we were finally, finally crested the top of the biggest hill, "Well we worked for that view." Yes, we did. Holly and I rewarded ourselves on the way home with some delicious treats from the Sisters McMullen bakery which has just relocated (again) to another spot on Merrimon Ave-our part of town. We knew them when they still made doughnuts (now left to Dunkin D, just not enough profit in those...) and were located just around the corner from us. Now they specialize in cakes and more traditional bakery treats. Just fine by me, as they're all good and yummy.

Wear green today, pick up a shamrock, and spread some good luck today. Happy St Patrick's Day!

A Gaelic Blessing

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the gentle night to you,

Moon and stars pour their healing light on you,
Deep peace of Christ, the light of the world.
(from a stone inscription at the Bald Head Island, NC chapel)

A Wonderful Day So Far

I have been remiss in catching up here lately. As I have said before, I feel a bit sheepish about continuing to post my writing here, now being so far from all of the original reasons to start this thing in the first place. While I will never forget that time of uncertainty and worry over my (then new) diagnosis of leukemia, I have moved on. Sure I get a monthly reminder of all of that seriousness when I have my blood counts done, but the steady, normal counts quickly push away any worries I might have. I would never say that all of this happened for a reason (unless you count weak DNA repair systems) or that I am better off because of it, but I can take pleasure, still, in the simplest things. As my girlfriend was leaving for work this morning, she wished me a good morning. I work the late clinic on Monday nights, a hellishly long 12 hour day that I never look forward to-e.g. I saw 36 patients yesterday. However, my recompense is Tuesday mornings to myself, with only half a work day. So I was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the trees just starting to bud, with daffodils I had planted blooming at their bases, while a myriad of birds sampled our feeders. I was sipping a delicious cup of French Roast coffee and thinking about my run to Ayr Mount, my usual run destination on Tuesdays and Thursdays. As Holly wished me a good morning, I replied that it had already been wonderful so far. Can you imagine how terrific it feels to sit in a warm, sunny spot where you can watch birds, flowers, trees, and drink coffee in a leisurely fashion? Can you imagine getting to do that every week-not having to set an alarm clock or rush out the door to meet your first patient of the day? Honestly, it has been a wonderful day so far...

This past w-e, Holly and I rode the ferry to Bald Head Island to join our friends Marty and Debbie at their new beach house just south of Wilmington. They have a big old place hidden amongst the moss covered oaks that they share with 12 other couples, each of whom gets the house for a week per season (13 couples x 4 weeks/couple =52 weeks). This is the spring week for Marty and Deb, who so graciously allowed 8 of us to join them. We had a terrific w-e there too, running the trails along the beach, visiting the Nature conservancy and Old Baldy lighthouse, enjoying seafood and other meals together (thanks Deb for that fabulous fried shrimp dinner-my favorite!), and watching a few basketball games as a group. As there starts to be some cross pollination between our friends in Asheville and our friends in Durham, Susan and Donna were along for the w-e too. Marty and Deb joined us in Asheville at Thanksgiving last year, and invited Susan and Donna to meet them at the new beach house sometime. So it was really a delight to have so many of our friends from both communities with us to enjoy that special place. I can't wait to see Susan's pictures of the island, being the photojournalist that she is. I'll make do here with a few photos from my little camera, just to commemorate the trip.

Almost March

I realized yesterday that March is next Monday. Perhaps this does not come as a surprise to anyone else, but it did to me. I was doing the yearly physical exam on one of my female patients, going over the preventive things we need to address for her health. I made the comment that when she turns 40, I want to order her mammogram. She pointed out that her 40th birthday is March 1st, this upcoming Monday. Wow! Already! Great news. Somehow, I've been mired in February and winter in my mind-
seems like f-o-r-e-v-e-r.

After my run this morning I was filling the bird feeders, cleaning up the trees that had been blown over by all of the recent snow, and trimming some of the dead stalks from my perennials. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the perennials are gearing up with new green shoots and leaves. I hadn't noticed any of that from my bedroom window, but at ground level, it is quite obvious. Fabulous to see spring just around the corner.

I spent this past w-e in Charleston with my Mom. She had fallen on her face last week, just one more thing for her to deal with during this difficult time. My stepdad hasn't been doing very well in the Rehab facility where they moved him after his latest brain surgery. However, things progressed some this w-e for both of them. My Mom's face is getting better slowly with less swelling and bruising everyday. She can drive again and even walked with me Sunday for exercise (getting her Teresa points as she calls it). And, we were able to get Brian up to sit outside, visit with their dog Dixie, converse with visitors, eat on his own, and walk (assisted) to the bathroom and shower. I am hoping that he has turned the corner and will be able to do more and more as he regains his strength. I know that eventually his brain tumor will come back-it's an aggressive bastard-but my hope is that he can go home before any of that happens.

I was struck by how odd it feels to help dress and bathe and walk with Brian. I had my own hospital days not so long ago with lukewarm showers and hospital food and interminable hours in my own little room. I was weak too, especially after that 7 day course of continuous chemo to get into remission from the leukemia. I too, could barely walk on my own, fatigued even by the act of eating. Amazing to think that without those tough times, I wouldn't be here. Boy am I glad I persevered through that and more to be here today to run through Ayr Mount park as I did this morning, to get to see all of the woodpeckers at my feeders as I write this, and to notice all of the green shoots coming up where I trimmed away the old dead stuff. That, to me, is the perfect morning, as we barrel towards March now.

Fat Tuesday

We attended the Mardi Gras parade held in downtown Asheville this past Sunday before we left for Hillsborough. There was a lot of standing around waiting at the street corner for the fun to start, and many conversations among the spectators about where the route would go. It was not a big deal parade like the one at Christmas, but it was spirited nonetheless. I do think there were more people who turned out to catch a glimpse of the "freaks" and the costumes than there were paraders, but that's okay. Susan took this photo of the dancing girls leading it on. Early February is a little cold for those outfits, but they sure got into the music.

Happy Mardi Gras!

Half the Sorrow, Twice the Joy

This is a bit belated being that yesterday was Valentine's Day. I was more than a little distracted by my Mom's accident and all of the attendant worries and concerns that brought up for me-not just about today and this episode but also for the future. When something like this happens, you realize that a 5 hr drive is not close enough to take care of someone from afar. But you cobble together some plan and hope it works. As my boss says about staying home with her sick kids when her Nanny is sick, " I am only 1 deep," meaning that she is the back up. I think one of my biggest worries for both of my parents is that they will find themselves alone dealing with all of the vagaries that older age throws at you. I read something in a novel recently that I think is quite true-marriage was described as offering half the sorrow and twice the joy. What a sweet way to boil it down. I would add that a committed relationship offers the same thing-I have been lucky enough to have that. My Valentine has shouldered much adversity with me these past few, challenging years. I am so very grateful for that.

Thanks to my gal for halving my sorrow and doubling my joy!