Those 70ish Girls

My major goal in life has always been to find humor in every situation. Lately, I have been challenged to meet that goal, but I’m getting there. I’m going to share something with you, because if I don’t, I will always feel like I’m leaving something important out of my stories. I have written about almost every major and minor event that has occurred in my life since I was two, but I never imagined I would be writing about losing body parts. The good news is, I haven’t had to give up anything I can’t live without. I learned how to do that from my brother, Billy.

Billy lost a kidney and a percentage of one lung. The kidney died and filled with fluid that would have meant disaster if it had leaked into his body. The doctor found it by accident. Fortunately, you can live with just one kidney. He lost part of his lung when he had a malignant tumor removed a couple of years ago. I can’t help him with the lung and if he needs a kidney from his sister, he had better hurry, because, my body parts are going fast.

Just a minute! I’m sitting in the car waiting for Kip to save a turtle. We’re parked on the side of the road with the flashers on, but I should probably pay attention. Kip has saved hundreds of turtles. If he sees one crossing the road, he stops and carries them to the other side. You’ve got to love a man who puts himself and his wife in danger to save a poor, helpless turtle. At least I’m not sitting in the turn lane like last time.

So I only lost nine inches of my colon. I didn’t need chemo or radiation. Even though I developed an incision hernia, I felt blessed and went on my merry, Mary way. I told Kip that I wasn’t going to go through colon surgery and then die of breast cancer, so I scheduled a mammogram. You can imagine my surprise when two weeks later, we found ourselves hearing the news that I have a malignant tumor on the right side and suspicious activity on the left side. I haven’t actually met the surgeon yet, but she has reviewed all of my tests and is aware of the colon surgery, so she does not have a problem with my decision to extricate (not her word), a couple of body parts I don’t need…my final answer. I won’t know about chemo or radiation until the pathology report from the surgery comes back. It’s okay, anyway. I stopped taking biotin, which was keeping my hair from thinning because my doctor told me it was bad for the kidney that Billy might need. My hair is falling out, again.

I have talked with several women who have shared their stories with me. Just today, a new friend told me about a woman she knows who is in her seventies, and also had colon cancer and then breast cancer. That was two years ago. She is substitute teaching now. Another lady I met ten years ago, when she was at the end of her treatment for breast cancer, shared her experience with me. She talked about the emotional and physical things she experienced… I’m ready!

So here is the deal…

I am telling my family that I am not one of those people whose courage people admire. I know I’m going to live, okay…but I might be a big baby because, I hate what I will have to go through to get rid of the cancer in my body. I told my son that if a person dies before they are seventy, it’s considered dying young. He said, “Mom, I haven’t heard that before.” I will not be dying young, anyway, but it was something I felt he should know.

I told all of my kids that they could smother me with a pillow when I reached 85. I was only 50 at the time, so I have since amended that to 95. I also said that if they have to run to catch me, then don’t do it.

I laughed when I read a Facebook friend’s comment. She told her husband she didn’t have to cook supper because she has cancer. He’s had something equally traumatic and he had his trauma first, so she had to cook, anyway. She said that’s how they make decisions at their house, now.

We’re all faced with the inevitable. We all come from a long line of people who are no longer with us. I’m going to share a song with you. Don’t worry, I’m not singing it. Before I do that, I want to say that Kip and I know you are praying for me, I mean us. Kip is the kind of guy who will take whatever I dish out and still love me. I am very, very blessed with the most wonderful family and unbelievable friends.

The best thing I have going for me, is that I’m a believer. Thank you for all of your prayers. I can feel them coming my way.

I am not trying to minimize the suffering and loss that cancer has caused so many, but this is the way I have to be, because it’s the way I am.

So here’s the song I got a kick out of years ago. It kind of puts the cycle of life into perspective. Libby Roderick also has a song called, “How could anyone say you’re anything less than beautiful.” I read that it’s about someone who has lost body parts…

The shortest of  the four Sanderson girls, Mom was the only one who took after Grandma, who was even shorter. Though not heavy, she had Grandpa’s stockier build. Uncle Wayne, who was the oldest of the six, was stocky like Grandpa, but tall. Uncle Jeff was slim and I would say of medium height.  Ella, Helen, and Elna, were all tall and slim and the perfect ladies. You know, the kind that never raise their voices. I often wondered about that.

Maybe Mom felt different from the others. The girls, including her, were all beautiful, but she was more the outdoor type. She worked outside and the others helped Grandma in the house. Mom told me that Grandma once said, “Aren’t you glad both Billy and Mary got their dad’s disposition?” Mom got a kick out of that.

When she was eleven, the family moved from Horse Creek to a house near the cemetery outside of Murdo. Mom bragged to the Osborn kids that she was no longer going to go to country school with them. They said they would miss the others, but they wouldn’t miss her. I think Loretta is overdue for an interview with Yram…

Yram: Hi! My name is Yram Sicnarf. I’m a crack-up reporter from Gun Barrel City, Texas where everyone shoots sort of straight. This person with me is Lav. She’s sort of my sidekick. She currently resides in California, but Murdo is sort of where she longs to be. Mind if we ask you a few sort of interview-like questions?

Loretta: Shoot Yram and Lav. Just don’t say sort of again. Say, you two look really familiar. There were two girls that look like you who cleaned rooms for me at the Chalet Motel. Those two could eat their weight in Doris Haughland’s homemade cinnamon rolls. It was a cheap way to keep them working, though.

Lav: Never heard of them, Aunt Loretta. What were there names? (Yram elbows Lav in the side.)

Yram: Never mind her, she hasn’t been the same ever since she rode in that red convertible down Murdo’s Main Street. It was just too much! Tooo much, I guess.

Loretta: Yes, I heard about that. Only I heard those uh, girls were only slightly younger than Queen Elizabeth. I was only eighteen when I was Miss Highway 16. Are you taking notes, Yram? I said… I was Miss Highway 16! I even had a lady in waiting.

Lav: Yes! I’m a lady in waiting. I even have a crown! Well I broke my good one, but I still have a Princess crown.

She’s not above stealing crowns from little princesses

Loretta: You two are the limit! Do you girls want to pick up a little extra cash? I have a trunk load of motel towels that I need washed and folded. I’ll give you some quarters and you can wash them at the laundromat down the street. I’ll pay you seven dollars. I pay by the job. Don’t put any bleach in the wash. If the towels look too good, the tourists steal them.

Before the girls know what hit them, Loretta drops them and a trunk FULL of towels at the laundromat. Lav is very excited to earn money.

Lav: Say, Aunt Loretta, How many hours will this take us?

Loretta: It shouldn’t take you more than five…six at the most… including folding. I’ll leave my car here with the trunk up. Put them in there when you’re finished.

Yram: Where are you going for six hours?

Loretta: I’m having my hair done. There’s a beauty shop in that white building over there, but first I’m going to Mack’s Cafe for coffee. I’m late! I sure hope I haven’t missed all the news. I hate to miss the news. If I’m not there, sometimes I am the news.

 We heard there was a parade here. We love parades!

Yram: You know Lav…we got hoodwinked. I don’t think we even got to ask her one question.

Lav: Yeah. She talked as much as Grandpa M.E. Sanderson. No wonder our photographic drawer didn’t show up.

I drew every one of those photographs.

Here I am it’s 3:00 a.m. I’m wide awake for goodness sake.

Tried counting sheep, breathing deep, cookies and milk, but still no sleep.

Stressed about things I must do. Kept that up from twelve til two.

I know what those who sleep have said. When worry messes with your head, write down everything you can. Then wait for Mr. Sandman.

In the dark my thoughts are flowing. My worry list just keeps on growing.

I can’t wait til morning’s here, then all my fears will disappear. I wrote them down just like they said and then I tucked myself in bed.

I’m really tired but sleep evades me. Sandman won’t you come and save me? If I don’t drift off real soon, tomorrow I’ll be fried by noon.

It’s 6:00 a.m., I’m up again. When I’m finished writing this, I’ll look at my worry list.

The dark is starting to subside I see it’s getting light outside. I’m waiting for the light of day to throw my stupid list away.

Good morning!

More than one friend has mentioned … they would not like to live in my head.

There’s far too much noise and confusion. They prefer calmness, instead.

“You drive me to distraction!” I can hear my mother say.

I wasn’t sure where distraction was, but I was too young to drive anyway.

When I’m struck with a wild-haired idea, I always dive in headfirst.

More often than not I soon realize that I should have slept on it first.

I rather enjoy all the chaos. My mind keeps me quite entertained.

I can’t imagine how life would be with a head that isn’t harebrained.

Someone once called me a wit. I assumed they meant I was bright.

My dog said he kind of agreed, but he thought they were only half right.

I’m not able to sing, dance or cook much. My talents are hidden, I guess.

I’ve always loved to play sports… but I get tired so mostly I rest.

If you’re wondering where this is going, your guess is as good as mine.

My half-wittedess just advised me…It hates it when I start to whine.

You might say this is self-deprecating, or think it’s only pretense.

I’m pretty okay either way… I really don’t need common sense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m only as strong as glass,” she said. “I could break and I might shatter. 

I’m speaking of my body. Of course, my mind is a different matter.”

Broken glass infused with color becomes an artist’s inspiration.

Transformed into a stained glass window… it’s now a stunning creation.

White light passing through a prism releases a full spectrum of colors.

Glass cast aside by some is now deemed magical by others.

Glass can be deceiving. We see many shapes and sizes.

We think we can see through it, but it often will surprise us.

It’s vulnerable to all things that are weightier and strong.

Fragile glass left unprotected won’t be whole for very long.

She said, “I didn’t see it coming. I was broken beyond repair.

I knew I’d never be the same and it filled me with despair.

I saw a ray of light and looked up to see it’s source.

I couldn’t understand, and then I heard the words… ‘Of course’.”

He said, “Of course you’ll never be the same. Not like you were before.

Don’t lay in shattered pieces that you know you can’t restore.” 

“What else can I do?” I asked. Silence met my plea.

 My hand reached for a prism. Of course… His answers came to me. 

Pick up a few good pieces of those scattered all around.

Take the ones infused with character. There are several to be found.

Let the light shine through that prism you are holding in your hands.

Brush off the other broken glass as the new you bravely stands.

****************

No matter how we live, we can’t control our lives.

We can’t prepare ourselves for all that might arise.

We might feel like shattered glass, broken for all time…

But we can salvage the good still there, and leave what we must, behind.

*********************

“You must always be aware,” He said. “Because, of course, I’m always there…”

 

 

We’ve had a lot of rain, recently, and the countryside between Mabank, TX, where we live, and Tyler, TX is springtime beautiful. The clouds add to the spectacular scenery. These shots were all taken from a moving car with my cell phone camera.

They say tomorrow never comes. It really does, you know

Yesterday was just today a few short hours ago.

Time goes by so quickly…You’ve heard that to no end.

Time can be your enemy… or your new best friend.

The best times can be over in the blinking of an eye.

A day can last forever, yet the years seem to fly by.

If something bad is happening, they say this too shall pass.

If the best is yet to come, then…to come… goes way too fast.

So what does one do…while time keeps marching on?

March along right with it, from dawn until new dawn.

As our lives continue and what is… becomes… what was,

It doesn’t seem quite fair that we’re unable to hit pause.

We can save a time and store it, and spend that time again.

And sometimes here and there, we can remember where and when.

Spring means the coming back to life of plants and trees that have been dormant for winter, as well as the birth of new life in the animal world. Given the symbolism of new life and rebirth, it’s only natural to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus at this time of the year.

The naming of the celebration as “Easter” seems to go back to the name of a pre-Christian goddess in England by the name of Eostre. The goddess was celebrated at beginning of  each spring.

Her name is thought to mean “to shine”, therefore Ēostre is seen as a goddess of the dawn.  However it is also thought that Ēastre is the ancient word for “spring”.  There are also links to the name Ēostre and “east”, the direction of the sky where the sun first rises, which gives Ēostre the name “Eastern Star”.

It was only in the 17th century that a German tradition of hares bringing eggs to good children came to be known. Hares and rabbits had a long association with spring seasonal rituals because of their amazing powers of fertility. Eggs, for obvious reasons, represent new life.

When German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania in the 18th and 19th centuries, they brought the Easter bunny and decorated eggs traditions with them. The wild hare became the more docile and domestic, rabbit, in an indication of how the focus began moving toward children, who also represent new life.

When my youngest son was seven, he drew a picture in Sunday school of Jesus riding on a donkey. It was a depiction of Palm Sunday. The caption gave us a clue as to what was to come. It said, “The Lord has Ridden!”

As Christians celebrate Easter this Sunday in commemoration of Jesus’ resurrection, the familiar sights of the Easter bunny and Easter eggs serve as a reminder of the holiday’s very ancient origins outside of the Christian tradition.

I personally think the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus and the symbolism of new life represented by the Easter bunny and colorful Easter eggs, all work together to help us appreciate and celebrate the meaning of Easter Sunday.

Happy Easter everyone…here are a few pictures I took on the way back from Dallas the other day…I was trying to find some wild flowers. If you look closely, you can see some Indian Paintbrush and Blue Bonnets.

I was having this lovely dream about Queen E. the other night, when suddenly, it turned into a nightmare! Take a look!

“Before you curtsey, please say, Timber!!!”

“I love you to the moon and back!”

“Phillip…Does this outfit make me look pink?”

“What? No service?”

“I seem to have misplaced my crown.”

“I’m Angela Landsbury, and no, I didn’t write the Sweet Potato Queen, book.”

“I think I’ll order a double cheeseburger and a large order of sweet potato fries. Ask Burger Queen if twins eat free?”

“Sweet Potato Fries? Really Mother!”

MG says, “I swear I don’t know anything about Sweet Potato Queens, I just work here!”

Lav says, “Eat more Chicken!”

“I must get these BK monkeys off my back. I’m starting to look like a sweet potato!”