Sisters Weekend

In the thirty-some years since I left home for college, my sisters and I have not once gotten together, just us. We get along well enough, and see each other a few times a year at assorted family events, but with a large family and lots of kids and in and out laws, time for quiet conversation can be at a premium.

We changed that this past weekend, and about time! The event has been on our calendars since last November; we planned it then knowing how quickly spring weekends get booked up. Des Moines is about halfway between the three of them in Minneapolis and me in Kansas City, so we met there. I left work early on Friday, and met up with them in time for dinner.

First on our Saturday agenda was a spa appointment. We all got facials and those who wanted them got manicures and pedicures. After lunch and a much needed nap, we went to a second spa for massages. (Relaxation is an important part of any getaway weekend, no?)

Needless to say, we all slept well on Saturday night, which boded well for our relaxing Sunday, which consisted mainly of shopping and stopping in to visit my Ankeny-based nephew and his adorable family.

The weekend was precious time. I rarely get to have long conversations with any of my sisters; I can't remember the last time we ALL sat down and talked without being rushed or interrupted (except by each other). We talked of life and our missing sister Maria, who died last year. We talked of how we never talk about Mom, then broke the family rule, and talked about Mom. We touched on how her dying younger than the youngest of us is now changed each our lives.

We laughed a lot, cried a little. We bridged the gaps of miles and years, and came together in a new, tighter formation. I learned new tidbits about each of their lives; understand just a little better how and why they became who they are.

I won't speak for them, but back home, I am one happily exhausted puppy. (Even when it goes well, and it did, building relationships is intense business.) I am SO grateful for the time we had together.

Ahhhh...  Good Is.

More Ordinary Days, Please

Sometimes, I forget to remember, in the ups and downs and concerns of the week, just what a gift ordinary days are.

Early last week, I heard from Libby. Her cancer is back again, already. This time showing up as ten small spots in her brain, one more (probably) on her liver. And, the chemo she's been on hasn't made the spot on her lung any smaller. She'll undergo a round of radiation starting next week, to see if that'll help with the brain cancer, talk to her oncologist after that to see what her next option is for the other spots.

Hard news to hear, but it wasn't mine to share, so I didn't.

I spent the week simultaneously on two planes. One me went through the routine of my week without breaking stride. I reveled in the normalcy of production issues at work (no lives at stake there), of developing new code (ditto). I grumbled about the late spring along with everyone else in the office, stopped at the grocery store to buy dishwasher detergent, white wine vinegar and toothpaste.

The other me spent the week regrouping, sending her my thoughts and prayers, and coming up with ways I can be there for her. I spent the week cussing at fate, and working to accept what is, even though I HATE, HATE, HATE this answer.

I tried my best to live the days I have. It helps neither her nor me if I spend my time flipping through assorted doomsday scenarios, so I stopped those mental films as soon as I was aware they'd started up again.

She shared her news with us all on Friday - just the bare facts, she couldn't bring herself to say more than that just yet.

There's a lot I don't know about the days to come, but I do know, from my own experience, journeys into the unknown are hard. Another thing I know is that I need to remember to look for beauty, because when I remember to look for it, it will be there to be seen and to soothe my soul, just a little.

"Only in the darkness can you see the stars." (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)

**sigh**

Everyday Heroes

I have a small, but loyal, following of readers for my blog. (some of them don't even know who I am - which I think is way cool!) A new reader found my post on 'The Right Time to Die' from earlier this year touching, and read it to her mother, who is a resident of a local assisted living apartment complex.

Her mother was taken by the story, and invited me to come talk to her writer's group - Readers, Writers, and Wannabees. (A great name for a writer's group if ever I've heard one!) I was thrilled to accept her invitation, and went out there this past Monday to be the featured speaker at their monthly meeting.

They were a fun group to talk to. They loved my camper van stories, were responsive, and asked questions in all the right places. They told me I inspired them.

What I'm pretty sure they don't realize is how much they inspired me in return. These people are not in the best of health; as my dad would have said, 'old age is catching up with them'.

When I think of getting old, one of the things I fear is that I will lose my sense of curiosity. I'm afraid of becoming stuck, rigid, convinced I've learned all I will ever be interested in and thus be unwilling to learn anything new.

The people at the meeting were living examples of how that doesn't have to be. No, they aren't as nimble as they once were, but they don't let that stop them from learning, from being curious, from trying new things. Like Stephen Hawking (another one of my heroes), they don't let the things they can't do keep them from doing the things they can.

It was a good reminder for me - a reminder I can make choices each day about the attitudes I bring out of bed with me. I won't become rigid if I practice flexibility. The days I learn new things and let myself wander down internet information rabbit holes help to ensure I will not become a mindless, television watching robot should I be lucky enough to live long enough to become old.

It's good for me to see living examples of the lifestyles I aspire to, and I am most grateful for the opportunity to glimpse the lives of these wannabe writers.

I wanna be just like them when I grow up.

April Snow

It's been a cold weekend. Uncharacteristically cold.

I fear for my lilac blooms - we got just enough warmth for them to start to come out, then this latest cold spell came in to sit for a spell. It's been hovering around freezing all week; down in the twenties some nights.

In the mornings, I've been stopping on my way to the car, hoping against hope to see them still rightly purple instead of frost-killed black. So far, so good.

It's been a cold and grey, Minnesota kind of spring. Now, I love Minnesota, and in my heart of hearts still claim to be a Minnesota girl, but spring up there is a tough season.

It warms up just a bit; you start to think about putting away the winter coats. You get out your lighter jacket and wear it into work. That's the day the temperature decides to plummet, and you end up freezing as you walk head down into the cold wind, sleet biting into your face, wondering why anyone ever decided the climate could be considered habitable. Surely, the settlers were beyond desperate when they settled such a cold and desolate place. Surely, they settled in Minnesota because every other square inch of the country was already taken.

Then comes April. It starts the way March ended - cold, windy. The remaining snow piles are dismal gray, lined with black. But then, but then. On one magical day, winter will give up the battle. On this day, it often snows.

April snow is part of the magic of spring. The flakes are big and fluffy, you can tell it doesn't mean business at all. Often, it doesn't even stick.

Today, we had a genuine Minnesota April snow. I managed to finish up my to-do list in time to get for a walk around the park to enjoy it. I smiled the whole way, stopping every so often to try to catch the flakes on my tongue - and often succeeding!

And, sure enough, the forecast for the week says warmer. 48 tomorrow, 57 on Tuesday, then in the 70's for a couple of days. Also typical Minnesota spring, back into the 40s for the weekend.  **sigh**

But spring is here. Finally!