Tonight, I am just grateful to hear Sam breathing as he sleeps.
I am grateful for a few emesis bags to keep in the vehicle.
I am grateful for a quiet evening to just be…
I am grateful for National Geographic Channel to keep us entertained while Sam rests — without the drama of mind-numbing reality TV and mind-stupidifying politics.
I am grateful for Instant Breakfast to put in a shake tonight for some protein.
I am grateful for a week of rest now from all things cancer. Well, kinda sorta.
I am grateful for God messages that He pings on my heart when I read…
I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. – Philippians 4:12-13 (THE MESSAGE)
I am grateful for that ping that makes me want to live a life like Paul, being content wherever we are on this journey, knowing that we can make it through anything with God leading our way.
And I am grateful to have heard the chemo bell ring for Sam three times this afternoon.
We got a letter in the mail today from Johnny Carson. Actually, Dad, but Johnny Carson. I tore open that envelope because Dad RARELY sends us anything and so my heart was a mix of excitement and panic, yay and uh-oh.
He didn’t disappoint, that’s for sure. Inside, he was soooo Dad. The contents were just as Dad is – quiet, with a punchline.
He sent photocopies, cut nice and neatly, of three cartoons. That’s all.
It was just the right timing, too. We are dealing with several things right now in this home. My good friend, soon-to-be-author-Linda wrote last week:
In my mind, this is how I often picture what your days are like. Having to be the strong one, the calm one, the compassionate one, the nurturing one, the gottaholditalltogether one is a tiring task. I pray for you and Sam daily. I have scolded God for your situation and asked Him why life is so unfair. He guides my prayers to prayers of healing, faith,and miracles. I want to move to [small town USA] and take care of you both. To make sure you have time for each other and to make sure that laughter rings through your home. Silly I know. It has to be hard living a life you didn’t ask for. But then I think this life is so much better than your past. You have love, you have worth, you have strength. Rhonda, I will quit yammering and just say I love you and your hubby. I know this isn’t the master plan you may have had, but it is the Master’s plan and He will not fail you. Hugs! Love you more than mosquito repellent.
Between Karen and Linda and Geri and Lisa and Chris, and now Dad – we feel very loved through our mailbox.
I am grateful on this Friday evening for moments that make me smile or grin big or chuckle or guffaw.
I am grateful for silliness last night, all by myself, while Sam was at a meeting. I decided to stop cleaning and relax, so I turned on the TV and watched Holey Moley, the summer miniature golf competition that looked so slapstick dumb. Rob Riggle made me laugh so hard…
I am grateful for grandchildren stories and videos that stop me dead in my tracks – mustseeTV.
I am grateful for the Master’s plan, for mosquito repellent, for photocopied cartoons, for videos of the best grandchildren in the world, for mail that doesn’t include a due date but is full of sweet words and encouragement, for low humidity, and finally,
I am grateful for any meal that I do not have to prepare these days. Well, not ANY meal. I wouldn’t be grateful for seafood or fish. Or turnip gratin. Or Indian or Thai food. Or Greek food. And certainly not stinky cooked cauliflower that is disguised as mashed potatoes or pizza crust or not disguised at all, or beets or artichokes or brussel sprouts or salad with lots of vegetables in it.
Okay. I am grateful for the opportunity to prepare my/our own meals.
Yesterday, I paid college tuition AND book fees in full, from my own savings account. Yay me. I am growing up.
Even at my age, I can experience firsts.
I am so proud of myself, I should be rewarded.
I am grateful for the reward I would like. Ding Dongs. I seriously need a Ding Dong right now, and if I didn’t have to work, I would walk to the grocery store and get a box. Walk, not drive. Because…Ding Dongs.
But I am also grateful for work because it is keeping me from zombie-ing down the street to the grocery store on a stressful day, because I stress eat, and Ding Dongs would be my dinner, dessert, and bedtime snack tonight.
But if you happened to visit, I would share the box. I promise. And I would be grateful for company, but only if you cookie-monstered Ding Dongs with me.
I am grateful for Jack Johnson’s Sharing Song. It goes with Ding Dongs quite nicely.
Finally, and back to that college tuition first, the reason I began this post: I am grateful for a conversation I had with my sister as we walked around the University of Arkansas arena during graduation a month ago. Someday, SOMEDAY, I WILL get my degree. I don’t know what it will be in, but I WILL walk across a stage with a mortarboard making my hair flat.
I am grateful for 6 more hours to tackle this summer.
And I am grateful for walking, not for Ding Dongs, but for that “Freshman 15” that has stuck with me for several years now.
Maybe I’m not actually growing UP, just growing OUT.
I was listening to an explanation recently about why I am not able to access the server and it involved computer terms and technology and ransomware deciphering codes blah blah blah blah…
I was looking at a transcript that looked like a foreign language.
I was trying to follow the conversation between oncologist and nurse regarding steps going forward.
All I wanted to do was make the white DirecTV remote work on the new TV instead of using the black remote that came with the TV. The simple steps didn’t work the first time or the fifth time, for that matter.
And don’t get me started with AppleTV and Airplay and surround sound and receivers and modems and wireless access and setboxes. (HEAVY sigh.)
I had to ask forgiveness for speaking to tech support Jack and tech support Jill from India with complete and utter exasperation and aggravation.
Alexa is not really my friend these days, either. She’s like the bully at school that acts like your friend all nicey-nice and then doesn’t pick you to be on her team for Red Rover.
The more I tangle with technology, the older I feel.
It doesn’t help that I have never been a friend of technology. My high school students had to do all the sound set-up when it was necessary to use it. It is why I preferred to teach my students to PROJECT their voices, and one reason why I preferred an actual piano, NEVER one that had to be plugged in.
sitting on his lap while we drove down a country road outside of Haven, me doing the steering while he did the pedals
smells of gas station when he walked in the door
riding bikes with Dad and Angela when he and Mom lived on Severance
flying high above south central Kansas, feeling safe while looking at all the field “carpets” below
watching him with my little girls as a first time grandpa
always knowing he would give me some money to walk to the Kwik Shop with Lori, David, Kim, and Leroy during church business meetings
lots of windshields, lots of dipsticks, lots of tire testers, lots of vacuuming, lots of moving the oil display outside and back inside at the end of the day, and never having to “unplug” the air hose – he did that for me
his “one-liners” and jokes
calling Mom “Helen,” and then hearing, “Oh, DELmar!” followed by her sticking out her tongue at him
after bedtime darkness when Dad would finally come home from work, and Mom would let me sit at the kitchen table with him and share a bowl of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, just the two of us
being allowed to sit in a car while he put it up on the lift
going through horrible podiatry appointments and a couple of toe surgeries but feeling very loved because Dad was with me through it all
cracks in his fingers that were perpetually black from the hard work on cars all the day long
feeling very proud when anyone knew/knows my Dad – his stellar reputation in Haven and then in Hutchinson follows him
watching his worried face as I put both he and Mom through several traumatic events, beginning at age 15 – and always knowing he loved me anyway…
I am grateful that I know my Dad loves me.
I am grateful to have spent a little bit of time with him yesterday.