Rejoicing!

We have so much for which to be thankful!

I'm sorry if I kinda' left y'all hanging after my last post about my father-in-law, but I'm guessing most folks who read my blog also find me some other way - like through Facebook or church or e-mail or whatever. Anywho, the great news is dad came through surgery just fine and as of this afternoon it sounds like he might be home by tomorrow evening.

Can you imagine? Brain surgery, and then home just four days later. Whew.

And I'm laughing at myself a little because I said he did "just fine" but I can tell you Friday was one of the longest days of my life. The whole process was not without its hiccups, and dad certainly isn't completely out of the woods yet, but the surgery to remove what the doctors are pretty certain were cancerous tumors from his noggin went very well. We were able to see him Friday evening after he woke up and it was such a relief that he recognized all of us and talked and laughed with us. He even cussed a few times, which I told him he had a free pass on for a few days. Because of the location of the tumors there was a concern that he might lose his speech and/or ability to understand speech, so I didn't care what he said, and neither did anyone else ... it was just so good to hear him speaking.

The past week has been hectic and I'm exhausted - physically and emotionally. And for as much as I love turning the clocks back and gaining that hour of sleep again, I despise it getting dark at 5 o'clock in the evening (or whenever it gets dark now ... much sooner than I'm ready for).

So, I've got some catching up to do around here and a few blog posts rolling around in my head I'll try to get written over the next few days. In the meantime I'm basking in the blessings we've been showered in recently. Praise God.

'Pleasant words' in life's stormy times.

If I wanted to write all about me I'd lay it out for the world to see like the open book I am, but when it comes to others I try not to get too personal. So I tread lightly today.

Steve's dad is sick. Not a I should make him some chicken noodle soup kind of sick. It's not something extra rest and a few aspirin can conquer. No, we're talking more like a team of doctors and a pretty risky, yet potentially life-saving surgery. On his brain.

My father-in-law has had his share of health struggles this year and we have weathered them as a family, each one of us offering support and encouragement in our own way. We live next door to Steve's parents and our children see them nearly every day, so they are hyper sensitive to any break in routine or disruption of their time with Nana and Papa. That means I am, too, because when their grandparents aren't around I get drilled with questions about where they are and what they're doing.

Oh, it's not like we watch for Nana's car to pull in the driveway after work.

Wait. Yes they do.

Well, not in a stalker-ish kind of way, anyway.

And yes, I suppose the kids do wander over there some afternoons just to see if Papa has filled his candy jars with lemon drops and Tootsie Roll pops. Hey, they're kids after all. But the sweet treats and the always-stocked pantry are just a bonus to spending time with two people who adore them like only grandparents can.

So the thought of something being seriously wrong with their Papa is scary. And to their many questions I can offer few answers. We're all shaken. Nobody really wants to think about how fragile life is.

But today I am reminded through my little book of daily devotions that sometimes all it takes is a few kind words to lift someone up when the world has knocked them down. (OK, and sometimes it takes medical intervention, but then kind words wouldn't hurt, either.)

Proverbs 16:24
"Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body."

I've never been one to sugar-coat the truth for my children, but I can certainly comfort them - with my words and lots of extra hugs and kisses - in the midst of a crisis. They look to the adults in their lives for safety, for a sign that it's OK to be scared and hopeful at the same time. This week I have encouraged them to take their worries to God, and to do their best to focus on all the good in their lives.

And I'm doing my best to take my own advice.

Father-in-law's surgery is planned for Friday. He's hanging out in the hospital being waited on and keeping up with his soap operas and bantering back and forth with the nurses until then. Afterward? I guess we won't know until the time comes. Maybe life will eventually get back to normal ... whatever that is. Or maybe we'll have to learn a new normal.

One thing is for sure: we'll face it together, this extended family of friends and neighbors and ... well, extended family. We'll lean on each other. We'll pray. And I will make a point to speak "from God's honeycomb" to each of my loved ones.

Clean Slate Sunday: 10.30.11 edition

I've started so many posts over the past several days, but my brain is so scattered I can't seem to hold a thought for more than a few minutes. If that.

This afternoon was rather perfect in terms of late-October days. Breezy and cool. Overcast, but bright. The kind of day that makes me want to bake some bread and snuggle up on the couch with a book. But I did not make bread and I did not do any reading. I did take a nap when I finally decided it was about the only thing I could focus on. It took me most of the rest of the afternoon to do a few loads of laundry and, a little at a time, clear some clutter and do some sweeping and straighten things up a bit.

The other day when I took the dog outside first thing in the morning I couldn't help but think of how the thick layer of frost on everything made the trees look exactly how I felt: heavy. Burdened. That day it was because Steve was leaving to head back to work in West Virginia and I just wasn't ready to let him go. Every day since then the heaviness has hung on, but for different reasons. Tonight is no different.

Sunday nights have always been my "chill" time. I finish up whatever tasks need doing before the new week begins and I prepare for the routine of rising early and packing the kids off to school. It can be exhausting or exhilarating, or a little bit of both, depending on the schedule for the week. No matter what, I try to take the time to count my blessings, take some deep breaths and some quiet time, and approach the week with an open mind and a grateful heart.

Tonight it's been difficult to calm myself. Life is in upheaval, and while it would seem chaos defines the Pipe Lifers' day-to-day, this period seems to be extra intense. Despite lots of unknowns, though, life goes on and we figure out how to roll with it. One day at a time.


For now, it's late (or mega early, rather) and I need to try to get some rest. I wish you a blessed week.

Stopping the clock. For real.

I'm not sure I was even aware this clock I bought recently for the dining room had a glass face.





Stress the word had.

It fell off the wall last night as Steve brushed by. I think he barely bumped the wall.

That "CRASH!" and the sound of breaking glass? Yikes.

Fortunately no family members were injured; just the clock.

Oops.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could really stop the hands of time and just hang out here for a while? Well, I'd really like to get over this ugly cold (or whatever it is) that I have, but other than that I'm really enjoying these few days with my sweetie here. He'll be gone again before we know it, back to the daily grind. It makes me sad to think about him leaving in a couple of days, even though I knew it was inevitable.

Yes. Life - and time - goes on.

Even the poor clock is back up on the wall, minus the glass, but working like a charm. 

And because in my world a broken clock can never be just a broken clock, there must be some great life analogy here, right? Like ... it's just what we do: when we get knocked down we pick ourselves (or each other) up, repair what we can, discard what we can't, and keep on moving.

Happy Tuesday!

Ugh.

I've been sick. Bleh. Since Saturday afternoon when I came home from a workshop at church and crawled into bed intending to take a quick nap before heading to a wedding reception with the fam.

The clock kept ticking and Steve and the kids got ready and I couldn't drag myself out of bed. And then I got chills and just couldn't get warm enough. It went downhill from there.

I'm starting to come around this morning. I managed to finally get out of my pajamas and hit the shower, and my appetite is coming back.

I am really glad Steve has been here to help with the kids (though I'm pretty sure he's the one who shared his germs with me). It's been good to have him here, in general. We haven't been doing much of anything special - just running the kids around and eating dinners together at night and hanging out.

It feels good. Even if I don't.

I can hardly move.

Today was a great day.

I went with Rachel's class to the State Park where we walked ...

and walked ... and walked ... and walked.

 The kids had a nature-themed scavenger hunt.

 We hiked out to the lighthouse.

(That's a mile and a half each way.)

 

My group of girls had plenty of energy, though.

Hm. Not the most flattering photo of me ... but at least I was warm! 

And Rachel looks cute as always.

 Big Sable Point Lighthouse.

Then this evening we all went to the kids' school to participate in a fund-raiser. It was a fun run/walk.

I walked. And now, between all that exercise and all that fresh air, I am so tired and so sore I can hardly move. But it was an awesome day and I'm so glad I did it. Too soon our kids will be grown and gone and I will cherish these memories.

Wait. Did I say "too soon?" Not too soon, necessarily. Just ... sooner than we can imagine on days like today.

A paradox.

Steve has some time off between projects, so he's home.

He's home!! Maybe for a week, maybe a little more or a little less.

The paradox? He's not making a paycheck when he's home ... but the fact that he is home is a good thing.

Despite the financial hiccup his time off might cause, these few days of having him here are an answer to my prayers. I've been having a rough time keeping the kids on the straight and narrow and it will be heavenly having Steve here for backup.

Not to mention, Steve has been working hard, sometimes seven days a week, for months. He needs a break. He needs to recharge.

We need to recharge.

I'm happy he's here.