Monday, May 25, 2009

Simple Pleasures; Gratitudes

5-25-09


Last Sunday, family and friends surprised me with a party celebrating my cancer remission status and my graduation from Kairos School of Spiritual Formation in May, despite going through chemo. I am humbled and overwhelmed by the love and support of so many dear people in my life. I am so blessed by all the cards, gifts, weeping cherry tree and red twig dogwood I received. I had wanted a red twig dogwood to plant in memory of Hutch, so this surprise gift is especially touching. The shrub will be a reminder of Hutch’s fiery devotion to me, and the rich love of my family. I'm quite aware this particular pleasure is not in the 'simple' category, so my deepest gratitude goes to all who planned.

I plucked some stray hairs from my face today. While chin and raggedy eyebrow hair smacks of aging rather than glowing health, I can't help grinning over these fine hair specimens.


Speaking of hair, my head is not covered red, curly fuzz. All along I’ve told God I deserve strawberry blonde curls after surviving a chemical nicknamed the ‘red devil’. It is nice to be comforted by God’s laughter. I’ve given up on red, but I’m still holding out for curls.

Carey, my 10yr old cattle dog, plays with a long-legged stuffed monkey, a toy she hasn’t had since puppyhood. The same puppyish enthusiasm fills her as she lays cat-like, belly up, dangling the monkey between her paws and high over her head. She grins, tongue lolling, teeth snapping at the skinny legs dangling above her face.


My perennial garden looks fantastic from a distance. It shows off a riot of emerald, jade and golden green, with sprays of periwinkle phlox, spikes of regal purple lupine, dots of daisy yellow, delicate splashes of sea foam pink and bold geranium red. Unfortunately, up close reveals lots of weeds. When I get down on my knees, grateful for earth and sky and sun, even the weeds are lovely. Last summer’s Queen Anne’s lace, and the fatigue that prevented me from nipping the flowering seed heads, brings a spring carpet of lacy, fern-like aromatic seedlings. As I weed, I celebrate the plants’ fecundity, their subtle carroty fragrance, and the memories of beautiful white lacy flowers bundled in blue glass jars and old tin buckets decorating my son’s wedding two autumns ago.


Last Wednesday, my oncologist, Dr DeGreen, entered the exam room – baaing. Laughing, I told him he sounded like a sheep, not a goat. After discussing scan results (they are still clear enough to be called ‘in remission’) he told me my immune system may take two years to recover from lymphoma and chemo. I listened, knowing he was saying ‘please no’ to my ongoing question of drinking raw goat milk again. Then he grinned, pretended to stifle a shudder, and added, “but if you really want to, you have my permission’. Regardless of what I do about milk, I was touched. I’m grateful he respects my choices, and my understanding of health and healing.

Joyfully,
Sharon

No comments:

Post a Comment