Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Yes, I am still alive

I got an e-mail recently asking when I was going to update my blog. I thought, “Well, it hasn’t been all that long has it?” Well, yes it has. My last entry was September 3, 2010—almost four months ago. How did that happen? I was blogging along at a reasonable pace and then fell off the blogger wagon. I had nothing to say. At least nothing that seemed worth sharing with the world. Maybe I should write about why I’m not writing. There are a multitude of reasons (excuses really)—fatigue, malaise, aches and pains, competing activities, etc. (Does Free Cell count as a competing activity? I guess it does since I spend so much time playing “just one more game”.)

I don’t see how I can use health issues as an excuse since I blogged my way through my cancer diagnosis, surgery and treatment. That puts my current complaints in perspective; or at least it should. So what do I write about now? What’s the point of getting through all that if you come out the other side with nothing to say? Where are the lessons learned? The life altering changes? The new level of self awareness and wisdom? Where indeed. That seems to be what I need to explore next. Where do I go from here?

I read an article in Family Circle about using technology as a tool to get control of your life. Who knew? You used to have to go to Weight Watchers meetings or Overeaters Anonymous meetings if you wanted support to help you lose weight. Now you can get support on line at MyFoodDiary.com.

In the past, if you wanted to change bad habits or start good ones you enlisted the help of a friend or made doomed New Year's resolutions. Now you can go to HabitChanger.com or HabitForce.com and get daily reminders that you need to exercise, stop smoking or have a better attitude. It only takes 21 days to change a habit and your cyber buddy can help you make that happen. Really?

My friend Saunders has offered to exercise with me. I think I’ll be much more motivated to exercise with her just because I know we’ll have a good conversation and enjoy a little smug satisfaction every time we actually work out or go for a walk. I don’t see how that can compare with a daily e-mail asking if I’ve exercised yet today.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Funeral Envy

I am in Edmonds, Washington with my friend Kizzie.

Yesterday I spent the day with her and her family and attended her mother’s celebration of life. It was beautiful and emotional. The grieving spouse, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and a multitude of friends—all gathered to honor and remember her. What a send off! To have found the love of your life and marry them, raise a family, enjoy a career of meaningful work (nursing) and be widely praised for your volunteer spirit, generosity, kindness, hospitality and loving spirit. Wow! How do you manage to craft a life where every one joins in sweet accord to honor and praise you at the end of your journey?

The reality is that few can do that. The sad truth is that there are almost always cracks and fissures no matter how perfect things may look from the outside. We can’t all be adored in the way we might like or make all the difference we would have wanted in our lives and the world. All we can do is the best that we can and hope that when the measure is taken there will be more on the plus side than on the minus side.

Will my family and friends meet in sweet accord to give me the memorial send off I would plan if I were there? Probably not. But then it’s really not about the send off. It’s about the day by day one connection at a time that we will be remembered. It’s all we really get and it’s enough.

.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Motorcycle Mama


Today I rode a Harley. Note I said rode and not drove. Riding was excitement enough. Our friend Rick was the driver and his wife Denise graciously relinquished her seat behind him so that I could have the experience of being a Motorcycle Mama for an afternoon. She also loaned me her leather jacket, gloves and helmet.

Rick and I mounted up and headed south. We were followed by Chuck, Denise and friends Andy and Saunders, all present to bear witness to my adventure.

It was a perfect summer day. Temperature in the mid 70’s and a bright blue sky dotted with beautiful white clouds. The clouds occasionally filtered the sun a little keeping the temperature in the perfect comfort zone as we drove through back country roads.

Seeing things from a motorcycle is an entirely different experience than seeing them from the safe confines of a car. The road is a lot closer for one thing and you see and feel every imperfection in the road as the lines pass by in a blur. Once you pry your eyes off the pavement, the view is spectacular. Everything is more vivid. The trees, shrubs, farms and small towns are like pictures from a catalog of Oregon scenery. On a motorcycle, you smell the countryside. All the growing things conspire to tease your senses with familiar yet indefinable scents. Passing a lumber mill, the smell of raw wood was strong and distinctive. On the freeway, there is the noise and wind created by passing cars and the smell of diesel. The freeway ride isn’t as much fun as the country roads but the rumble of the bike and the wind in your face creates a different kind of excitement.

We stopped for a late lunch of pastrami sandwiches at the Oakland Tavern. While this may look like a bit of a dive, the sandwiches were outstanding and even the non-bikers, ate with relish. After that we drove north a bit and stopped at a drive-in for ice cream cones. Not that we had room for more food, we just wanted to do it.

It was a giddy experience. Exciting and at least a little scary at first but I now understand why people love motorcycles and convertibles. Not that I’m ready to make the switch but I do appreciate their passion.

(Apologies to son Jim who was forbidden to ride a motorcycle—not that he obeyed, of course.)

I can cross another item off my bucket list now that Rick and Denise kindly provided a Make-A-Wish experience for me. Can sky diving be far behind?

.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Happiness

I wrote this essay for my Washington writer's group. More about them later. Here is the essay...

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy;
they are the charming gardeners who make our
souls blossom.
- Marcel Proust



We all know how to get fit—eat right, exercise with increasing length and intensity and fitness will follow. Is there such a formula for happiness? If there is I don’t know about it.

It seems perfectly natural for people to want to be happy. Who wouldn’t want that? Yet we don’t seem to have perfected the formula. It was Abraham Lincoln who said:

“Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

That seems a little simplistic. My friend Julia reminds me that Lincoln’s wife, Mary Todd Lincoln suffered from bouts of clinical depression. Imagine how thrilled she must have been with this quote from her husband! Besides, if it was as easy as making up our minds, we would all do it. I know I would. I love feeling happy. It’s intoxicating. And it’s catching. Nothing can make you happier quicker than being with someone who is truly happy. It’s an elixir that issues forth and feeds our soul. It’s irresistible and all but a few sour spoilers want anything more than to share it, even if only for a while.

It’s the reason we love a champion. Winners attract us like flowers attract bees. We want some of the happiness nectar that they exude. When the winner thrusts his or her arms in the air and grins and maybe even cries a little, we want a piece of it. When the winning team slams itself into a jittering mass, we want to join them. That’s why spectators rush the field and fill the streets—they want to catch a bit of the electricity of happiness that is in the air.

Happiness takes many other forms, of course. There is the utter joy of holding a baby, watching a child at carefree play, observing a child crack his first deliberate joke or hearing that same child perfectly mimic a parental injunction. Nothing can provide more unadulterated joy than your child unless, of course, it’s your grandchild.

Another gentle pleasure is the joy a garden can give. Watching the sparkle of sprinkler water on a well-tended garden through the slight fog of sore muscles and sweat is a very special pleasure. It makes just about anything you do afterwards feel like a well earned reward. A glass of lemonade can easily rival the finest champagne. A hot dog just off the grill is better than any restaurant meal when you can have it after a day in the garden. A close second would be having it at the ball park with the mix of charcoal smoke and new mown grass in your nose and the sound of batting practice in your ears.

All this makes happiness seem easily obtainable. So why isn’t it? What makes it leak away and lets us slide into the more familiar self-critical funk? Perhaps it is a matter of comparison. Alexandre Dumas says:

There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state to another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.

That does make some sense. If we are merely endlessly content, how would we even know or appreciate it? Yet who would wish for difficult times in order to enhance our feelings the rest of the time? It is surely true that a life threatening illness or an accident can heighten our appreciation. Does it follow that we must have the angst to appreciate the sweetness of the ordinary day to day calm? Perhaps we do need a little contrast and drama to keep things interesting but, of course, too much of a bad thing can definitely be a bad thing.

What does this have to do with my own personal happiness? I think I am circling around a point here. I’ll try not to lose it again. I have been stressed, depressed and scared to death and yet I think that I am basically a happy person. How can I hold on to that when the dark days come? Or, do I in fact need the dark days to make the happiness shimmer and glow when it does come? Charles Schulz once said:

My life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I’m happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right?

Ah, how refreshing. So often we ask ourselves what we did wrong. It’s nice to once in a while wonder what we are doing right. Because of course we are doing some things right or we would never experience any happiness at all. So what is it that makes me happy? I love to laugh. I don’t know if I laugh because I’m happy or I’m happy because I laugh but it really doesn’t matter. It just is.

There are whole schools of thought that recommend that people with serious illnesses watch funny movies or read funny books. That’s all just fine but in my opinion the best laughter is shared laughter--the sort of laughter that you simply can’t explain to anyone later. It just bubbles up and renews itself, like a can of soda that has been shaken before opening. It’s the sort of laughter that makes you fear you will wet your pants but you don’t want it to stop anyway.

My friend Kizzie told me that Norman Cousins calls laughter “inner jogging” and says that it is good for the soul and the body. I can endorse that sentiment.

But what else is there? Mere laughter isn’t enough to cure all our ills. I think it must go deeper. It is connected to the fact that we have people in our lives that we can make laugh and who make us laugh. A good shared belly laugh probably equals an hour with a therapist. We want to explain ourselves because we want so much to be understood, but a shared laugh is understanding on a very deep level and we shouldn’t underrate the value of someone who gets our jokes. They are the ones who keep us sane.

Another important key to happiness is gratefulness. David Steindl-Rast says:

Gratefulness is the key to a happy life that we hold in our hands, because if we are not grateful, then no matter how much we have we will not be happy -- because we will always want to have something else or something more.

Writing definitely makes me happy. Oh, it frustrates me too. But when I finish a piece and it seems to reflect exactly what I meant to say, I am happy. That fails to account for the reason that I spend so much time playing Free Cell or solitaire instead of writing but that’s another topic I think.

The last thing or maybe it’s the first thing is to find something or things that matter to you. We need to make a difference in someone else’s life. We can join up, volunteer, put our hand out. My husband and I started a charity and it has been the most fulfilling thing I have ever done (besides having my children, of course).

So, here are my four keys to happiness:
Friendship
• Laughter
• Gratefulness
• Meaningful work


Everything else is a bonus.

.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Seventy and Counting

I turned 70 today. I should be grateful for that and I certainly am but Holy Cow, how did that happen? Here I am in far northern Washington indulging in a little self indulgence (Okay, a lot of self indulgence if the truth be told) and noticing that 70 feels pretty much like 69. It also feels a lot like 49 and 59 except with more aches and pains. Shouldn’t wisdom kick in about now? Shouldn’t I have figured out what I really, really need to do before I die? It’s right there on the tip of my brain. I want to share some profound insight on this day, July 22nd, 2010, but I keep thinking about the candy store clerk who, when she found out it was my birthday, counted out 70 jelly beans (bubble gum and cotton candy flavors) and wished me a hearty Happy Birthday.

Oh, the day was much more than that. I had a lovely walk along the beach and my friend Kizzie treated me to a delicious lunch at Semiahmoo resort where we had a view of Canada across the water and I drank my first Mohito. We strolled and shopped and enjoyed beautiful scenery along the way. Still my mind returns to those 70 jelly bellies waiting in the bottom of my purse. One for every year. Wouldn’t it be something if I could eat one each night and dream the very best days of each of those years. Now that would be something to write about!

.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Exit Strategy II

I can’t quite let go of this Exit Strategy idea. I thought maybe I should create an exit strategy for my blog. After all, I have completed 15 months of blogging about my cancer and that seems like enough on that topic. I started to create another blog—titled “Edythe Ann - Still Standing” or something like that but “Edythe Ann Says” seems sufficient for just about everything. I can just continue with the same blog and talk about anything I want. That seems good enough for now.

.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Friendship

Friendship is a precious thing. There is no doubt about that. But just what is it that defines a friend?

I took a road trip recently that made me think a lot about friendship and what it means to me. I am blessed with friends. Sometimes I feel sad because most of my friends don’t live near enough to visit easily. That lead me to wonder why I don’t spend more time with the friends I do have who live closer to home. I wonder if I put too much value on the more distant friendships and why that is.

There is no one thing that defines friendship. I think I value different friends for different reasons. One special friend is a woman I knew in high school. She is a kind and caring person and calls me up just to touch base and see how I’m doing. Her calls always make me feel that she truly cares about me. When I’m in her company, I feel comfortable knowing how very long we have known each other and how our roots are entwined. Now that my mother has died, Ruth is the last person in my life who remembers me as a girl. She knows how silly I could be and how deadly serious. She didn’t know me during my years as a mom and a career woman and I didn’t know her during her years as an accomplished teacher. We are connected by our girlhood. It’s a wonderful connection.

I met my friend Brence in the early 70’s. She taught my children in their middle school years and our friendship evolved over card games. The moment I knew she would be my friend was after a casual conversation where we mentioned the idea of a trip to Vegas. The next thing I knew, she had dates and prices for hotels and airfares. I had always been the organizer, the one who plans. At last, here was someone who also planned and organized things. Many things have linked us over the years: spring training in Arizona, The S.F. Giants, Scrabble, aid and comfort as we struggled through our divorces and painful readjustments but the one true moment was recognizing a kindred planner.

Some of my friendships formed though work. One thing about working for the IRS is that we connect on the job because we find it difficult to connect outside the job. Fellow workers know what we do and don’t have to tell endless stories about how the IRS mistreated them or how they outsmarted an auditor. We may laugh at ourselves but flinch when outsiders scorn what we do for a living. Some of those friends I appreciate because we did the same job and have a real understanding of just what it meant to be a field revenue officer. Others had different jobs but worked in close proximity. We knew each other as much because of social time together as because of hearing each other deal both professionally and personally on the telephone. We couldn’t help but overhear the personal aspects of life that sometimes had to be handled at work. Knowing so much about another person means one of two things: we draw closer or we erect barriers. More often than not, we commiserated. We went out to lunch, out for drinks, had game nights and we talked.

Other friendships are based on other common experiences or interests. Sometimes, they involve secrets. When someone has a painful history and you find common territory, a bond forms. You can see in their eyes that they truly “get” you in a way others simply can’t because they can’t or won’t imagine that your experience is true. They (the others) want you to stay in character and not rock the boat. The real friends will help you rock the boat and then help you back in if you tip it over.

Sometimes, friendships form because you admire someone so much that they just have to like you back. My friend Kizzie is like that. She was the chaplain at the hospital where I got my first cancer diagnosis in 1996. To me, she seemed like an angel—full of wisdom and spirituality. Even when I discovered that she was fully human, my admiration did not slacken. As she opened up to me, my admiration for her only grew. We have seen each other through a lot since then and our friendship is still alive.

As I think about friendships, I realize that they have little to do with politics or personality. I have friends all over the spectrum of liberal to conservative, extraverts, introverts and everything in between. What they all have in common is that they know at least a part of me and accept me anyway. They’ve seen me make mistakes and not live up to expectations and yet there they are—still holding out their hand or giving me a hug.

Aren’t friends amazing?

.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Exit Strategy

We had dinner with friends recently and one of the men explained his rules for his personal exit strategy. Here are the ones I remember:

When attending any event:
1) Park far enough away so that you won’t get blocked in and can leave easily;
2) Enter the event and make sure people know you're there;
i.e greet the hosts, sign the guestbook, say hello to anyone you know;
3) Leave for a while and then return (this way people will note that you were there, gone and then there again and won’t be sure when you actually left)
4) Have a topic prepared in case you are drawn into a conversation
5) Slip away quietly as soon as possible

All these rules are designed to give him maximum credit for attending and minimal time actually spent at the event.

Our friend put a great deal of effort into creating this strategy. At no point did he allow for the possibility that he might attend the event and enjoy himself. He knows he would need to escape and he formulated a plan to facilitate his escape. His plan intrigues me and makes me realize that we need to create exit strategies for many occasions. Somehow it never occurred to me before to do that.

The ultimate exit strategy is, of course, for our end of life. Who hasn’t given that some thought? My husband knows that at my darkest times, I plan my funeral. Actually, the really darkest times are when all there is seems to be a dull feeling that nothing is worth doing. This feeling is often accompanied by the lyrics to “We Gotta Get Out of This Place”. Hey, that might be a good song for the funeral. The Viet Nam vets would certainly connect with it.

So now I’m thinking about my END OF LIFE EXIT STRATEGY. That’s pretty heavy. I used to think there was so much that I still needed to do. I even created a Bucket List. Now, there doesn’t seem like there is really much left that is essential. I think it’s important that the people you love know that you love them and I think (I hope) I’ve let everyone know that. What else is there?

I’d like to finish my autobiography. I’m attending a memoir class that I hope will help with that. I don’t know that it’s all that important but it’s something I’d like to do. I’d like to leave our charity in better financial shape but my energy for fundraising has not returned. I can’t even imagine organizing another rummage sale or event. There must be more I need to do. I just can’t imagine what that might be right now. I’d better take another look at that Bucket List.

.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Mammogram Results

I have been remiss in writing about my mammogram results. I met with my radiation oncologist last Friday and she confirmed that the results were very good. The lumps I have been feeling are merely radiation damage and scar tissue. It seems that this should ease my fears and get me on track to move along and quit worrying about how I would deal with more treatments. It hasn’t worked that way. I am unwilling to believe that it really is over. I can’t explain it and I know it makes no sense. If I actually am going to survive this second cancer then I have to get my act together and start exercising, eating better, etc. If the remainder of my life is to be counted in years rather than months, how can I justify my indifference to my long term health? Even writing this, I feel the resistance coursing through me. I don’t want to be responsible. If cancer gets me, that’s not my fault somehow, but if my lack of exercise and bad eating habits are the cause of my demise, then it will be my fault. ARGHHH! I hate it when things are my own darn fault.
.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Grace and Gratitude

.
I couldn’t sleep this morning because today is my diagnostic mammogram and my mind is full of “what if’s”. I checked my e-mail and found a beautiful note of encouragement from my dear friend Kizzie who was the chaplain at the hospital where I got my first cancer diagnosis fourteen years ago. She came to my room then and said, “I heard you had some bad news. Can I sit with you?” She did just that. Sat with me. She gave me the gift of grace then and gave it to me again today. She assured me that I am being “held in the light”.

I like the image of light. Lon Robertson spoke at our church service last week and said that evil is the absence of goodness just as light is the absence of darkness. Is it any wonder I love the light whether it’s the sun shining in my garden, a dancing fire in the fireplace or the glow of a candle—light pleases me.

There is something in my breast, near my incision site. Some little mass that doesn’t feel like a lump but doesn’t feel like normal tissue either. I’m hoping its just scar tissue. Mostly, I’m hoping that I will face whatever the news is today with grace and gratitude and I know that Chuck will be there with me to celebrate or comfort me.

Of course my hope is for a clean bill of health but I want to remember to stay in the present. We only get one day at a time and I too often forget that and sink into a stew of regret and angst that I haven’t made more of what time I have had. I have no power to change the past and no control over the future but I can deal with today. How I do that is up to me. Grace and gratitude. That’s the key. I am in God’s hands.

.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Choose Life

Every day I wake up. Eventually. Some days I feel more motivated to actually get up once I’m awake. I take inventory of my aches and pains, review my “To Do” list for the day and try to find motivation to actually have my feet hit the floor. It’s easier if I have something interesting to look forward to—some place I want to be or something I want to do. Usually, I finally have to answer the call of nature or respond to the guilty feeling that my dog needs to be fed and walked.

Today I got up because I know that if I don’t then someone will have to clean my office. The simplest thing would be to get one of those big dumpsters you see at construction sites and just load it up with everything that’s in here. Ninety nine percent of it is of no interest to anyone but me. One of my kids might want some of the photos and photo discs I have accumulated and my husband might want the checkbook and bills. Actually, he can access the account on line and order new check books. Any unpaid bills will show up in the mail as second notices unless they are set up for automatic payment which most of them are.

Most of the rest of the mess is old cards I want to respond to, books I want to read some day, boxes I “need” to go though, music I want to put on my i-pod. Oh, yes, and way too many outdated manuals for things like Windows 98, Works 2000 and an array of computer games that I either never played or will never play again. Who even remembers “Qin-Tomb of the Middle Kingdom” or “Myst-The Surrealistic Adventure That Will Become Your World”? They are so outdated compared to the complex on-line games people can play now. Into the dumpster with all of them. Or maybe I should donate them to the church rummage sale. It would give someone a chuckle at least. Maybe.

Some days when I’m lying in bed thinking about whether or not to get up, I think of things I could write about. I think of the cleverest things just as I’m going to sleep or when I’m doing my morning musings. Unfortunately, I seldom remember what they are. Maybe that’s for the best. Still, I think I must have some things left to say--some wisdom or insight that would have value. More value than my old computer games at least.

Today I decided that getting up is an act of choosing life. Everyday, when we get up, we choose life--with all its aches, pains and disappointments. It’s our job to use the day to inject something good into today that will help us make the choice to get up tomorrow and the day after that. I’d better start a list.

.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Envy P.S.

My friend Monda says there is a quote that says envy is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. I can't find the source. Any help with this?

It's a great quote!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Dogs, Cats, Ancient Philosophers and Envy

I have a favorite cartoon that I can’t find right now but it shows an eagle soaring high in the sky and looking down at a cozy nest with a sparrow reading the paper and smoking a pipe. At least that’s how I remember the picture. The caption asks, “Does the eagle envy the sparrow safe in his own little nest or the sparrow envy the eagle soaring above all the rest?” Well, it was something like that anyway.

I sort of expect that animals don’t experience envy as we know it. A dog might want a bone because another dog has one but he doesn’t think that the other dog is necessarily better than he is. On the other hand, dogs have the good sense to submit when they are overwhelmed by a bigger, stronger dog. Is that just survival or does he know the other dog is superior?

I often observe our “Deck Cats”. These are the strays of the neighborhood that seem to accumulate on our deck because they know my husband is a sucker for cats. They peer in at the “Inside Cats” and the inside cats peer back at them. Does one envy the other? On the coldest nights, I imagine the outside cats must be envious but if they are capable of that feeling, do the inside cats envy their freedom?

What do cats think anyway? Do they think dogs are stupid for being so subservient to humans? They do seem disdainful and indifferent to human commands, demands or wishes—unless, of course, they want something—usually food.

Maybe that’s why the Egyptians worshipped cats. They couldn’t believe that cats could act so superior and condescending without good cause. It’s certainly hard to imagine a cat envying any other creature. If there is something they want, they go get it. If they can’t get it, they decide they didn’t want it after all.

Cats may be on to something. Things are what they are and we might as well make the best of it. What, exactly, does that mean? “Make the best of it.” Does that mean we should submit and not struggle against whatever we might feel is getting the best of us? What is this envy thing all about anyway?

Envy is resenting another person who has something we want and wishing them to be deprived of it. Can we envy without resenting? Can we want something someone else has and not want them to be deprived of it? My friend Joanne balks at the second half of the definition and thinks we can envy without the wanting to deprive aspect. I wonder about that too.

Envy is one of the “Cardinal” or “Deadly”sins. The others are wrath, greed, pride, sloth, lust and gluttony. I’m pretty sure I have been guilty of all of them at one time or another. How can these be deadly? Shouldn’t the deadly sins be more serious offenses? I’m thinking of things like murder, pillaging or really dirty dancing.

In Dante’s purgatory, the punishment for the envious is to “have their eyes sewn shut with wire because they have gained pleasure from seeing others brought low.” Aquinas described envy as “sorrow for another’s good”. Both of these descriptions would imply that there is a very ugly underside to envy.

If we covet something that belongs to our friend or neighbor, do we necessarily want to take it from them? The above definitions would indicate that we do. Why bother forbidding or punishing envy if it is merely a gentle jealousy?

This whole train of thought started because of a discussion I had with Joanne about envying friends for their interesting and active lives. The vacations my friends take, the closeness they enjoy with their children and grandchildren, the weekend get-away trips to the coast or wine country, the plays and musical events they attend—all generate a feeling I can only describe as envy. Can’t I want their active, healthy lives without wanting to deprive them of what they have certainly earned for themselves? I hope so.

Now, having considered it all in the context of cats, dogs and ancient philosophers, I think I can conclude that it’s ok to envy a little as long as I keep my focus on the things I enjoy here at home—my man, our pets, our garden, our friends, our DVR capabilities and my mountain of wonderful books waiting to be read. As I grow stronger and begin to think about the activities I can add back into my own life, I realize that I might have an enviable life my own self.

So, maybe it’s ok to hear about a friend’s adventure and feel a moment of envy as long as it’s just a moment of feeling that I would have enjoyed that too but I certainly have no desire to take it from them. I can live with that.

And, by the way, we leave for Kauai next Monday so feel free to experience a moment or two of envy.

.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Un-Decorating


It’s that time. The tree and decorations must all come down. It’s a sad undertaking for me. I’m not sure why that is. After all, the New Year is here. Shouldn’t I be ready to make a clean sweep and start the “New Year” with enthusiasm? Is it the end of 2009 or the beginning of 2010 that has me down?

I didn’t put the tree up this year. It seemed beyond me somehow to muster the energy and enthusiasm required to open the boxes and get out the decorations and ornaments—to sort out the Father Christmases and snowmen and find just the right spots to place them all.

Chuck put our aging artificial tree together and Christmas Eve Luke and Lisa decorated it with Lucy’s help. It made for a lovely photo op. The twinkling lights were lovely and Lucy’s enthusiasm for all the ornaments was charming. Christmas morning Lucy even by-passed her gaily decorated presents to admire the ornaments again. She lacks something we have come to expect of children on Christmas. She doesn’t have that over-the-top enthusiasm that makes them rip into their presents and open them all at break neck speed. This high pitched enthusiasm is usually followed by a disappointed funk when they realize they didn’t get every last thing on their extensive Christmas lists.

Lucy had to be coaxed to open presents. She would comply, open a present and then want to play with it. Her method made her gifts last the better part of the day and she enjoyed them all—even the clothes. She didn’t know what to expect of Christmas and so she loved every part of it. The tree was beautiful, the Christmas program at church was greeted with the enthusiasm of a Broadway spectacular and the gifts were all wonderful. What made that possible for her? Her innocence? Her lack of expectations? Her lack of experience?

I’m not sure what accounts for her enjoyment but maybe there’s a lesson here for me. My sense of malaise and disappointment must somehow be related to unreasonable expectations. If I could understand that maybe I could find a thread of hope and enthusiasm for 2010.

Somehow, it all seems tied to decorating and so I wonder what that’s about. Why do we decorate for Christmas? If we don’t decorate, we are suspected of being “Bah, Humbug” types who don’t revel in the joys of Christmas: the gift giving, the entertaining, the celebrating and maybe, to an extent, the joy of surviving another year.

I don’t feel like a “Bah, Humbug” type, but I do feel that the whole Christmas season has devolved into greedy excess. We didn’t give many presents this year. We donated to the Heifer Project and kept our gift giving modest. That was hard. I still want that wonderful feeling of giving just the right gift. I love the “wow” factor when you find the right thing and watch someone open it and just know that you hit it out of the park and they are truly happy. It seems harder and harder to achieve that feeling. Everyone seems to already have everything they really want or need and so we sink into excess trying to capture that feeling of surprise and pleasure in our gift giving. We forget that all the gift receiving may be creating a numbness that prevents true surprise and gratitude.

My mind took a peculiar jump here and I started thinking about make up. Maybe house decorating is akin to a woman putting on her make up. It’s a signal that all is well. The fact that she makes the effort to look better makes her feel better. Maybe decorating makes us feel more like we have the holidays under control even if we are collapsing under the weight of expectations beneath it all.

Since my diagnosis, I have worn little make up. I’m bloated and my skin is blotchy and I don’t have the energy to worry about it. My hair is coming back but there’s not enough to comb yet and so I seldom even look in the mirror. When people tell me I’m looking good, I think they must be crazy or are trying to be kind.

I wonder--if I started “decorating” myself again, would I feel better? I went to a class of looking and feeling good during cancer treatment. There are plenty of women who make a great deal of effort getting the right wig and keeping themselves made up and smiling. I still have the bag full of free goodies they gave me. If I did start using them, would it be to benefit myself or to reassure others that I am doing ok? Maybe I should put on the wig I’ve never worn and get out the make up and see if it does make me feel better. Maybe decorating isn’t the worst idea after all.

Of course, I still have to un-decorate the tree but after processing all these random thoughts I do feel a little better.


.