Morning Sky- Monday, July 20th On a walk with neighborhood friends. We saw the most beautiful rainbow that took our breath away. Someone said “This one’s for you.”
I have found it harder to write lately. I know and want to write a blog entry but then find myself struggling to find words. Tomorrow, we are traveling to Colter Bay which lies on Jackson Lake at the base of the Teton Mountain Range. It is our favorite vacation spot. We have so many memories of our kids growing up there, so many incredible memories on the lake. Taylor’s baptism at age 8 surrounded by friends and family. It is my sacred place. It is the place I go in my mind when I need peace in my life and I wonder this year if it will be my last time there. I don’t think so but still I wonder. When we are on the lake surrounded by glassy water, sun streaming down from the sky and sounds like eagles overhead, it is peace and solitude, loveliness and beauty. And jumping into that icy water is always a thrill. It is chilling but so refreshing and somehow healing. I think that many wounds have been washed off in those waters. I remember the first time we went there after I was diagnosed with cancer, I felt like I was telling the mountains what happened and that they mourned for me! I think this year, I will forget about the new brain tumors and perhaps the original brain tumor and be happy for life there.
It’s a different feeling when you live knowing with a real possibility that you might die sooner than you expected and that perhaps that death may be very painful and perhaps drawn out. I think the new normal for me is to spend less time going to those thoughts but they still creep in. I know it’s a good thing to explore my feelings because if I didn’t they would bottle up and then explode and sometimes it feels like that and I just want to cry. I think one of the saddest things about a cancer diagnosis is that life feels a bit shattered. Before I could be happy and dream but then this really horrible diagnosis came and forever my world changed. If the cancer had not come back, that would feel different and I would have gone on and life would maybe someday feel hopeful again and who knows maybe I will be that outlier and beat this thing. But truthfully, this time it rocked my world and has tested my hope and faith because it has been such a roller-coaster ride these past four years of hoping and then doubting and fearing and hurting. But always, my spirit prevails and I have been able to get on with my life and keep going. I guess that I should be so grateful for that. Perhaps, forgetting is a good thing, perhaps the mind and heart and spirit lets you do that. Perhaps in this growth there is peace.
Love this group of women- Lori Hogue taking picture, Christine Holding, Melissa Faber, Kathy English, Kathy Cahoon, Patti Clements, Joanie, Sue Buehner