A rare, dear friend

This blog, I've decided, is like one of those rare, dear, old friends with whom time between conversations doesn't matter. A week, a month, a year ... it makes no difference at all. You just pick right up where you left off, no recriminations, no guilt, no apologies. You both know that life is full and that the silence is not indicative of anything. It only shows that time has passed, more quickly by the year. It really doesn't matter how long it's been, when the call comes and that beloved name pops up on your caller ID, you answer with eagerness and delight.

With such friends, I always -  we always - endeavor to reach out more often and we laugh at ourselves each time we say those words to each other, knowing that it will not likely be so. Ah well, we love each other and each connection is a precious gift, perhaps made more so by the infrequency. Friends like that are rare and very much to be cherished. I have several and my life is so much richer for them.

You may not feel quite that way about this old blog. But maybe it's just a wee bit like that.

Hello, then. Let's just pick right up where we left off, shall we?

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The holidays came and went. They were wonderful. Five of my boys, three daughters-in-law, and one grandbaby were here for varying amounts of time. We squeezed in and I loved every minute of it. Everyone helped to cook and clean. Baby David had lots of time with adoring aunts and uncles. We played games and because it was so very warm, we sat on the porch. One night, we sat outside around the fire. I didn't take very many pictures. I just wanted to live in the time together without a camera between me and all the sweetness of having my family here. We missed our NY crew, but goodness, where would I have put them. A tent, perhaps?

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I didn't make resolutions really. Just told myself that once the holidays were over, it would be back to regular routines and life giving habits.

Time at my desk first thing each morning with my Bible and prayer notebook.

Cleaner, lighter, less sugary eating. I'm usually quite ready for that by the time the new year rolls around.

Regular walks/runs/rides/swims and a bit more stretching. I've already been to the eye doctor and had a physical this month and I don't take my rather low maintenance good health for granted. It is a gift and I am very grateful.

I do have some sewing and work goals in the months ahead. Exciting developments with Make Welcome and eagerness to learn more, sew more. More on all that to come ...

I also have reading goals for the year. I'm upping my goodreads challenge again, this year to 70 books. Some of those 70 books will be a part of my "Read Around the World, from A to Z" adventure. I expect this will take me several years, as I try to read a book about or by an author from every country. I'm not going in any particular order, but the alphabet is a good guide. I've started with Afghanistan and finished two books already. My library stack is growing.

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My children left over the space of a few days after Christmas, thankfully not all at once. Joel was here til after New Year's so that was good. A slow-ish transition for me from the fullness to the quiet. I love them both. I love pulling the table apart and putting in all the leaves, setting the old church bench for two to sit on at the end of the table, and three French presses in constant use. And I love the small table and clear counters and uninterrupted hours. I miss my children - and grandchildren - and do wish they weren't spread nearly so far and wide. On the other hand, seeing a picture like this one makes my heart happy. Uncle Andrew explored subway grates and chased pigeons and did a bit more in New York City this past weekend with Erin, Luke, and the kids. I would have loved to be with them, but I didn't have to be there to feel intensely happy about that time they had together.

 Happy New Year, friends. I'll be back soon.

Thanks to my editor

A few minutes ago, I hit "send." I wrote an article about Make Welcome that will be posted on another website soon. Details to come about where it will appear when I know the date it will be posted. Tonight I want to thank my editor.

After Daddy went to bed, I asked Mama to read the article. She is a fine writer and grammarian and I knew that her hypothetical red pen would be helpful. She read carefully, sentence by sentence, and offered many comments and suggestions. She even critiqued the photos I had chosen and helped me choose alternatives. I took her advice on almost everything. I did have to explain to her that the word "sewist" is commonly used in the sewing world these days. She'd never heard of it.

We rarely do anything like this together and it was wonderful. We should write together more often. If the article is any good, it's partly because I had a great editor. Thanks, Mama.

Challenges

Toward the end of September, I set a couple of challenges for myself: The Couch to 10K Challenge using an app on my phone to spur me on to run further than I have before, and the One Month Plank Challenge. This last one is so simple. Just a few minutes a day doing front and side planks, increasing the duration a few days at a time. Easy peasy. I like these challenges. They keep me focused on exercising regularly and working toward goals. Helpful nudges.

I also thought that perhaps I would write more in October. I thought about challenging myself to write a post a day for the month of my birth. Just a little check-in each day, a picture or two, a thought, or more when time and inspiration came together.

But then, life, as it is wont to do, happened.

One week ago, my dad suffered a stroke. It is the call you don't want to get. The one from your mom saying Daddy is in the hospital.

Also, one week ago, Coty was packing his bags for a three week trip to India. We were going to take one last bike ride together before his trip, cover the pool for the season, and get him all ready to go.

I felt so torn. Stay at home and help my husband get ready for his trip and spend the last evening together or hit the road south to be with my parents at the hospital. After talking with my mom and being assured that my dad was in good hands and doing well, I decided to stay home for the evening. The next day, I took Coty to the airport and kept going south, on the road to the hospital a couple of hours away.

So, no regular posting in October. Instead, I have had the incredible privilege of spending this time with my parents, spending a couple of nights in the hospital with my dad, being with my mom through a rather scary morning when Daddy was not doing well at all, and observing the amazing courage, humor, fortitude, and grace with which they have handled the stroke and its aftermath. It has been a privilege to walk with them through challenges of a very different kind. Challenges of a very different nature and far more serious than exercise routines.

Mostly, it was my dad's speech that was affected. He has trouble remembering words. Sometimes he knows exactly what he wants to say but he cannot draw the words up from the blood clot damaged recesses of his brain. What is beautiful is that most of the time, he laughs at himself. Sometimes he gets frustrated, but mostly he is gracious and rather interested in the phenomenon of knowing the right words but observing that they simply will not come. We have watched as his speech has improved over the last week. Sentences are getting longer before the words stop and trying again usually enables him to correctly pronounce words that came out garbled the first time around.

The other effect of the stroke is his ability to write. As with speech, he knows what he wants to write, but with pen in hand he is unable to spell the words and shape the letters. He simply cannot make his hands do what his brain is telling them. I am confident that he will regain this ability with time. He starts speech and occupational therapy tomorrow and I am praying for the same grace and fortitude over the long haul that he displayed in the crisis time.

My mother is a tower of strength. It takes some forceful persuasion, aka ganging up on her, to convince her to go home and rest. My sister and I plotted (jokingly) with the night nurse to make her go home and let me stay at the hospital. She is always worried about someone else's comfort and not her own.  She said to Anne and me, "Just because you two are here, don't think you can tell me what to do." Oh, Mama, believe me, we don't. But if we're worried about you, we'll still try.

She is not only strong. She is also very gracious. So kind to the nurses and vocally thankful. One evening, as she sat at my dad's bedside and looked out toward the hall, an orthopedic tech across the hall caught her eye. He waved. She waved back ... and then got up and walked out in the hall and chatted with him. The next morning, he came in to visit in my dad's room. Daddy didn't need an orthopedic tech but John popped in anyway to say hello to his new friends for the day. My parents made many such friends in the hospital over those few days.

I mentioned to someone the other day that after-stroke care is a team sport. In addition to the major player on this team, my amazing mother, my sister and brother-in-law came to help. They, too, are amazing. Hard working, funny, thorough, resourceful, tireless. That in the midst of a rather serious situation, we all laughed a LOT, is a gift, a grace that I appreciate deeply. The first night home, we sat around the table and played Uno. My dad, who doesn't usually join in the group games, suggested it. There were moments I laughed til I almost cried. And so did my mom and my dad. So did my sister and brother-in-law. It was a rather hilarious evening. Who'd have thought we'd be doing that?! Surely, it was healing laughter.

There are many challenges ahead. As I said, my dad will have to work to regain his words, both spoken and written. It won't always be easy, I'm sure. My mom will have many nights ahead of waking two, three, four times to come and help my dad, and lots of daily care. The recovery will, I'm sure, feel slow at times, the tasks, daunting.

It is time to stop now. Time for bed. We have an early start tomorrow, to take Daddy to his therapy, so I need to head to bed. I can't tie this post up with a neat bow tonight, but then, life is not often tied up in neat bows, is it? It's messy and unpredictable, but full of good gifts, nonetheless.

Goodnight, my friends. Thanks for reading. I'll try to be back tomorrow ...

One week to go

This time next week I'll have my race packet. I'll have my number on my bike and helmet. I'll have the bike loaded on the car ready to head to the park ridiculously early - 4:30 AM, that is, since the park gates will close at 6 AM and all competitors must be inside the park, ready for the 6:30 swim start (my swim start will be a bit later, since starts are staged according to age group and mine is one of the last - I think it's a 7:10 start).  I will have attended the pre-race gathering the evening before and heard race instructions. Training will be done. It'll be race day.

I'm fighting nagging nervousness. My panicky experience two weeks ago with the open water swim practice has me feeling a little less confident than I had been feeling. My trail run today, which felt long and slow has me a bit worried about that 5k at the end.

I'm trying to be positive, trying to do all the mental work to set myself up to finish well. I'm telling myself that my goal is to finish, but really, I'd love to do it in a good time, though what that is for this first-time sprint triathlete, I'm not really sure.  We shall see. (Yes, I did the Ramblin' Rose in 2012, but that wasn't an official sprint tri. The Tri Latta is an official distance).

Tomorrow I'll do another open water swim practice. I hope I can breathe after 20 yards and don't have to flip over on my back and talk myself out of panic. If I do have a panic reaction again, I know what to do. It'll be ok and I'll just keep stroking and breathing and get past it.


I am so grateful for the gift of health; for the ability to swim, bike, and run; for the support and encouragement of family and friends.  I haven't shared in this space the really good news that my RA is now in medical remission, but that, too, is a tremendous gift which means that now when I hurt, it's not because joints are being destroyed, but because I've done a hard workout. It also means that I live mostly pain free these days, swollen joints no longer inflamed, hands and wrists no longer hurting all the time, rings sliding on and off easily. I wake in the mornings and do not hobble downstairs. It is good.

A year ago, I could not have imagined feeling this well. I had gotten used to pain, forgotten what it felt like to not hurt all the time. I just thought pain was my life. So, honestly, whatever happens next Saturday, it's been a journey that has been so worth taking. I'm already starting to wonder about the next race and how to improve ...

For now, time to pack the swim bag and get to bed. I'll keep you posted ...