Islands in the Sky

 

Yesterday, after watching the continuous sunrise as we flew toward LA I dozed off, but somewhere over New Mexico I woke to see the top of a mountain peeking out of the clouds like an ”island in the sky”.  My first kidney stone was over 30 years ago, and a little over a year ago I passed my 10th stone.  Many of these stones have cost multiple hospitalizations, and 2 large stones were broken up with lithotripsy (sound wave technology).  But my last 4 stones I’ve passed using meditation to relax the smooth muscles of my kidneys and bladder, and guided imagery that feels like rectilinear movement to expel the stones.  Islands in the sky have always been my mediation metaphor for the place I need to be to pass a stone.  Passing over that place yesterday was surreal, but also it gave a new glow to my hope.  Believe in the impossible.   

Mesmerized by a Sunrise Blush

A soft sunrise blush sweeps across the thick cloud covered sky bringing back memories of mornings hitch hiking down the California coast in the 60’s mesmerized by the never ending flow of perfect waves.  It was the end of my summer following the crops in Washington State, working farms and living in bunkhouses.  I was about to turn 20, so it was a summer of searching for me.  Flying to LA today I feel the same wonder and excitement as we fly west into the ever present blush of sunrise.  Someday I’ll ride the never ending trail of sunrises as I hitch hike through the Milky-way following the star crops and living on distant planets mesmerized by my never ending journey.  Feel my smile!

Amethyst & Life

Barb took my hand and walked me up to my dad’s open casket that sat in the chancel of the church.  I remember her warmth, and hand squeezes as I cried.  She took a small amethyst and placed it in my dad’s hands.  At home, under a backyard tree, I ask her, “Why the amethyst Barb?” She told me amethyst protects travelers, and is a calming stone providing balance, peace, and connections between the earth and other worlds.  Her words forever changed how I remember my dad’s death.  I’d been caught up in my own sorrow, and she was focused on my dad’s journey.  Flowers the colors of amethyst, now bring a smile as I think about the journey we call life.  

Hope

Yesterday, I visited several patients and heard behind their words how much they missed life before cancer.  We all have moments in our lives when we miss someone or something.  My daughter who lives in Tennessee is like a stranger in my life.  Most days, weeks, I do okay, but there are moments when I miss her terribly.  One morning last week, I had one of those moments standing by the water’s edge with tears streaming down my face and feeling as upside down as the tree reflections.  During these moments time becomes distorted by ripples of past moments shared with her, reflections; I try so hard to catch, but in an instant “hope changes everything” as I feel her presence.  Let hope rule!

Momentary Heart Connections

He pointed to the sink, “clean up, you did a good job of stitching up his knee, how long have you been a medic?”  “Oh, I’m not a medic Sir, I rode in with the chopper, I’m his platoon leader”.  He smiled as he turned and walked away, and as I felt the water on my hands, I woke from this lost memory and realized there have been times I’ve stitched my life back together through the momentary connection with a stranger.  Maybe a short deep conversations or a warm hug, both have almost immediately begin opening my heart. For it is only through an open heart we reclaim the resilience that stitches life back together.  Today, make momentary heart connections.   

Life is Good

Last week at our lake house, I watched silent mornings slowly unfold the glow of each day, and knew life is good.  Issues with our phone line brought Dennis, a field technician, and 7-year MD Anderson cancer survivor.  He told of meeting a bald, courageous, 7-year-old little girl in radiation to whom he immediately gave his ponytail, to be weaved into a wig.  Recently she sent him a letter inviting him to her 15th birthday celebration.  His annual checkups would be more convenient at an MD Anderson clinic closer to his house, but the caring community at our main campus energizes him.  His retirement plans are to volunteer to drive people from Montgomery, Texas to the main MD Anderson campus.  Make life good!

Waiting

The team was hurting; Butch Duhe had died of a brain hemorrhage so we dedicated the coming A&M game to Butch.  The last 13 seconds an A&M pass steals our win.  We were stunned, but Butch’s spirit stays around that year and we all end up with SEC Championship rings.  After my mother’s death for weeks I expected her to call, she never did, but she also never stopped loving me.   The pain I experienced with my broken back kept getting worse, until one day it was gone and I was walking.  Early in my journey as an advanced metastatic cancer survivor I waited for the magical potion, now I find real joy in experiencing each day as they unfold.  What are you waiting for?