2022 Week 8 in Photos

Monday was sunny and warm. I need a lot more days like that. Like a lot more.

One night this week, we got to dine alone. It was pretty sweet. PS. Isn't he handsome? 

Not a morning person.

I took *his* chair.

I don't always understand my children. She was watching reels on Instagram. 

I happened to walk into a co-worker's classroom when she got the photo announcing the birth of her first grand baby. 

We once again hung out on a dance floor while the DJ called out lower numbers of years married. It was fun to think of our journey while snuggling close. We don't often fall into the trap of taking our marriage for granted. We fought to be where we are today and maybe that leaves me a little cynical toward "happily ever after messaging". That is fairy tale propaganda, not reality. I prefer the truth. It's hard work but so very worth it.

Whereas Ty is measuring himself against everyone lately, hoping to be taller, Kate kicked off shoes and leaned to make Grandma feel better. She really is the sweet one. PS....Sister loves the dance floor and had a blast at the wedding.

Ty scored a "Grandma Date" out for pizza while the rest of us attended a wddding.

Kristin took my "this seems unnecessary" motto and turned it into something positive for me to wear to my biopsy tomorrow. I literally laughed out loud when I opened it. This is awesome. My people are too. 

My parents drove to town to watch Ty's final archery tournament. They were also impressed with the program. While visiting, Mom mentioned how unreal it is Ty will turn 13 this summer and then she witnessed a stand off over me insisting he eat something before having ice cream. "Oh, I see it now", she said. Yep. It's coming. 

 

Right After It's Over

I lack the words sometimes to express the way Im feeling or processing life. All I know is I am more exhausted than ever and the mere suggestion of one more commitment, no matter how enticing, I cannot for the life of me agree. Waiting on news and additional biopsies for answers is apparently the final straw. So not my words here today, just something that spoke to me and perhaps it will speak to you too. Meanwhile, we are leaning into rest and reading and being together. 

Right After It’s Over

by Kate Bowler

On a long hike through an Indiana forest, I stumbled upon a spindly tree that tumbled off a cliff. Walking in the cool caverns below, I could see how the wind and the rain had eroded the ground under its tangled roots, but that the tree did not simply fall. It snapped at the base, and tipped over into the chasm beneath. Much to my family’s dismay (who wanted to keep hiking), I was transfixed. The tree didn’t die. Or, as I announced loudly to my six-year old, THE TREE MADE A SERIES OF IMPORTANT CHOICES. 

At first the tree grew straight down, as if surrendering to gravity. After all, there was nowhere else to go. But at the point of breaking, the remnant began to thicken. It must have taken years, but its roots grew wider and deeper. Then, in a shocking act of hubris, the tree decided to try growing sideways. It added a few wobbly branches that stuck out entirely horizontally, like a gymnast might use her arms on a balance beam. More years passed. But at some point, the tree decided that sunlight was a good idea, and the only direction to go was up. 

This is what happens when you anthropomorphize trees, I said, shaking my head. But nonetheless, my eyes got misty as I traced how the trunk made a perfect U-shape and, rather impertinently, grew straight toward the sky. 

Can you picture it?

Perhaps you know what it’s like to be pushed off the edge. By some gust of wind, you suddenly knew your precious lives were hanging on by so little. The human condition is all thin roots and rocky soil, and so you fell. 

When your life is snapped at the stem, there is almost nothing to do but watch yourself break. You find yourself trying to remember to breathe. You can hear your own voice and it might sound strange. Time is slow and surreal. Is this me? Is this really my life? 

In the aftermath of devastation, the best we can do is survive. Try to sleep. Remember to eat. Keep breathing. Nothing will feel possible, but there you are. Another day. Even that may feel like a miracle. 

There comes a season where you begin to realize: I could stay like this forever. Overwhelmed and broken. WHO COULD BLAME ME? Did you even hear what happened? It’s unthinkable. The world I loved is over now.  

Our self-help culture will try to explain to you that this is the time to become better than before. Get back up! There are no set-backs, only set-ups! This is teaching you something or showing you a different path. Doors are closing and windows are opening, after all. You know, now that we’re talking about it, you might even be lucky that this happened. After all, this is an opportunity. 

The deep evil inherent in the Perfectibility Paradigm is on full display. Your humanity is now a liability. Your grief and fear and confusion and fatigue is wielded as evidence of your failure. You are not only a person who has lost, but a loser. 

Please, please, please, hear me say to you: you are not ruined or broken or a failure. You are simply in pain. And God is with you. This is God’s great magic act, in my opinion. The more we suffer, the more we can’t get away from God’s insistent love. 

When life is hanging upside down, we must try to send all available energy to the roots. Drink a glass of water. Utter the words: “God, help me.” Try to get outside. Tell someone that you’re struggling. Don’t forget to sleep. It might not feel like much. But with these small acts of nurture and taking stock, you are like my favorite tree. You are letting yourself grow straight down. 

Grief is a long story. 

Someday you might try to get your balance, peeking your branches out a little. Seeing if you can reach and stay stable at the same time. Perhaps a short trip. A more casual conversation with others. Letting your guard down. 

There will be days when you will be able to look around and ask: what is here? Where is there some ground to stand on? Is there anything that tastes good now? That nourishes? Where is there room to grow? If so, you might be ready for a turn. 

As my friend Nora McInerny says, there is no “moving on.” There is only “moving forward.” Yes, there will be days when it might be crucial to pull down the blinds and lie in the dark. (Or morally recommit to watching every episode of our favourite television shows Community or The West Wing.) 

But in the meantime, my dear, you are growing. You are tired and might be scared, and you may have lost too much. But you are not finished yet. Not today.  

Chasing Light

In catching a glimpse of the sunrise with it's colorful layers, each more vibrant than the last and remembering His mercies are made new every morning. Moreover when the color and light are reflected upon the most dormant of trees as I drive west, I can't help but see the metaphor. In my season of waiting and questioning, there are moments of wavering peace and yet, His light is still shining on me. 

In counting blessings, the ice so brightly reflects now that the sun shines again and I'm mesmerized. Greg, the most level of us, humors me and turns around so I can see it again. This light so beautiful once the roads are safe for travel again. I love that he loves my unfiltered excitement over the little things. 

Ava made a popsicle person at church. She says it's Greg because it wears a red shirt and has no hair. The resemblance is uncanny, although he says he has a better figure than the popsicle stick. 

There was a garage door frozen to the ground and I mistakingly attempted to use the opener so we met a friendly repair man in the aftermath. The next time I went to flip the light switch for my husband who was carrying groceries to the garage freezer, he yelled in an attempt to scare me. I rarely, so very rarely choose violence but I smacked him. And he laughed all the more. 

School is not his favorite; not by a long shot but he has been pretty excited this past six weeks about his assigned elective, Engineering and Technology. He designed and built a project. His creation holds his glasses, a watch, a chrome book or ipod and phone. He wanted charging ports that would allow his devices to remain upright. Not only am I impressed by the ingenuity, but seeing him enjoy a project through school is absolutely the best. 

Sugar coated children gifted me well with hugs, hearts and sweets today. I cannot recommend elementary school enough if you want to be well celebrated. The kids are far more generous with their expressions of love than most adults. 

We pray the weekend allows us to rest as well as one knocked-out kindergartener. 

Ice Days

 

The week was spent watching the weather forecast and anticipating a long weekend huddled together. The ice rained down for days while the girls watched true crime documentaries and wrote papers for school. No bake cookies were consumed and a sweet little Valentine garland was crafted. The list of things I swore I needed to do when I had time was ignored. Of course it was. Cozy clothes and comfort food; a much better offer. 

Erin chose to stay with us in case she lost power. Having company to pass the time meant she and Ada hung out for a bit. She has been fairly open about her cancer journey and has gained a following of sorts from those seeking encouragement. 

Kate saw the orthodontist this week and learned she is in the final stage of treatment. Her desire to be braces-free by her May birthday is a realistic goal. And then we signed off on her application to graduate early. How on earth we are planning her final year of high school already is rather surreal. 

We told Ty to prioritize online schoolwork in case we lost power Thursdayand Friday. He opted instead to play video games and make sure Piper exercised. This boy.

The weekend holds an archery tournament, a pot of soup and quite likely, more cookies. We are hibernating. 

Uncertain

 

It was a restless week, full of hard moments. But we pulled in tightly together for reading, cuddles and long talks. Kate finally made it back to school Friday after two long weeks fighting an unknown illness. We narrowly avoided a hospital stay for IV fluids but she rallied in the final moments before that decision had to be made. Both Greg and I missed work to care for her this week. 

My biopsy didn't go as smoothly as I anticipated and I'm still processing the implications. I have a long road of uncertainty ahead. 

The 2021 family album arrived and everyone has poured over it's pages.

The girls have banned together and are leaning on the one who knows first hand how this process unfolds. She is a rock, our first born but we hate that she has had to be. 

And then there is the blissfully unaware who keeps life light and real. Thanking God for the lot of them. 

Covid, Asthma and E-learning

It was a week. It was a week of chaos involving doctors and decisions, mostly out of our hands. I had an abnormal mammogram Monday and I knew as I walked out despite not getting the call until Tuesday evening. Sometimes you just know. Wednesdays diagnostic mammogram lead to an ultrasound and I will be having a needle biopsy next week. I am not freaked out, just annoyed. This seems completely unnecessary. I think I need a tee shirt with my new motto "this seems unnecessary." But I told Greg we took advantage of the buy eleven months of healthcare, get one free plan in 2021. We are reversing that for 2022. Go team.

Kate had to leave church Sunday morning with an asthma attack that required breathing treatments every four hours throughout Sunday and Monday. By Tuesday it was clear she was not going to improve on her own so we saw the pediatrician for the dreaded oral steroids. I did not cry in front of the doctor. Those things make our sweet Kate not so sweet. This afternoon we returned to make sure she had not once again developed pneumonia. Whereas she dodged that particular bullet this round, she does have a virus in her lungs that is equally as painful as the pneumonia was just a few months ago. 

Erin spent several days mad at the world. She contracted covid at work because the newest guidelines had an employee back in the office while feeling unwell and still testing positive. I was able to deliver food and pick up her laundry to support her but she otherwise had her ornery cat for company while she slept off the heavy hitting virus. She has recovered well but still fighting fatigue and brain fog. 

While we were out, Greg and I used a Christmas gift card for lunch. The two hour wait provided a stroll through the mall where we learned we needed absolutely nothing offered there. But as usual, Greg was entertaining as he discovered new styles. However, we cannot recall ever being so disappointed in the Cheesecake Factory. They reduced their seating and their menu to twenty-five percent. The food was no where near normal standards and the place was crawling with staff losing income due to self sabotaging "safety" measures. The world has lost it's mind.

Anna and Ava hung out with us for a few hours so their parents could enjoy an afternoon date this week. The sunset was stunning so I snapped a couple of quick photos in the gorgeous light. The girls are better sports about this than our son but I snagged a quick one of him too anyway.

We spent the week e-learning and Ty loved it. He swears this is his preference but I cannot make that decision for him despite his anxiety toward school. He is the fifth kid and I swear I still lose sleep over so many tough decisions. I sometimes wish my kids understood how much we agonize over getting it right. Lauren assures me she sees it now. Perspective is amazing and hers comes from the role of mom. But we are returning to the classroom next week so his game nights are wrapping up soon.

Makenna's diplomas finally arrived and they quickly came with a job lead that may involve emergency licensing. We are hopeful our girl will be teaching while completing her bachelors degree online. She is pretty excited by the prospect. It's not every day someone comes to you and asks to support getting you into a high quality position right away. This may be the deciding factor she needed about her future.

Kate started her new job as a gymnastics coach Saturday morning. Her new little friends are adorable. Her work schedule is overlapping Ty's archery tournaments so Greg and I are dividing and conquering. Ty once again raised his score by a few points. The fifteen meter is continuing to be a sticking point for him. Unfortunately weather and covid have reduced practice opportunities the last few weeks so he has been unable to get support for it yet. 

My grandson is in Georgia. I miss him and the weather there too. 

Erin scored another promotion through her internship with CCAP Across The Map