It's Still Life

When our family was young we took road trips, and developed traditions that kept things interesting along the way: The Alphabet Game, I Spy, harmonizing with the Beach Boys or belting our show tunes . . . and sometimes simply holding our breath.  I know that last one sounds kind of strange, but it worked. As we approached a tunnel, Harold would challenge the kids to take a big breath and then hold it until we got through. Some tunnels were easy. Others, like the Eisenhower Tunnel, were no-hopers. Then we would just hold on as long as possible. Could we make until we saw the light at the end?

When you gear up for a challenge it’s kind of like that. Some you can ride out in one breath. Others last longer; and whether you can see the end or not, you have to keep breathing. You have to stay engaged in the business of living. You’re right, Valerie. It’s still life, despite the recent changes.¹

Harold is enjoying his woodworking shop, just completing a redwood arbor for the back yard. I’m putting in the flowers. He’s tutoring me as I take a more active role in managing our financial interests. I’m tutoring him as he has time for more domestic chores.

 

We’ve planted the garden and it’s beginning to grow. The sprouts, their necks bowed, have broken through the earth and opened up to reveal first leaves.  And as expected, the weeds have come up too.

We still laugh when our kids share stories of hide and seek. We still cheer when the Rockies win.  We still sneak ice cream in the evenings. We still feel guilty enough to exercise the next day.

We still grieve when life’s challenges bring hardship to others and pray for their healing and peace. We still petition the Lord for Harold’s health and recognize we are being greatly blessed. At the same time we say "thy will be done" . . . and mean it. 

We are humbled by associates, friends, and family who pray in Harold's behalf. We are grateful for the sustaining power of their faith. Harold’s still here. He's made it two months since diagnosis and is feeling well. 

Harold’s next infusion is Friday, May 25^th. We’ll see what happens next. Meanwhile, it’s still life – and life is very, very good. 


P.S. Harold got through last week's gamma knife surgery with no swelling. The ice packs worked.

¹See comment after May 7^th “Still Life” post. I hadn’t realized the double meaning when I wrote that post. So thanks Valerie, you inspired me once again.