Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you

Last week, we got a call from Dr. McFadden's office - Jacqui's surgery is booked - January 27th - and she'll have another CT scan and the pre-op work done the week before we leave for El Salvador.

That was easy....

Last year at this time we were wracked with worry, waiting for appointments, dates, not knowing what to expect.  And this time it's all there ready and waiting.

And then the "what if's " start:

Is it going to be worse if we wait

Shouldn't we just be getting it out now

What if she gets sick in El Salvador

 

I know that's what lots of people are thinking too - and the answers are:

 

Who knows?

It's basically the same time frame as last year - there's a line-up!

She could get sick at home too.

"People say you can’t have faith and fear at the same time. But you can. I’m exhibit A. I prefer to think, Courage is fear that has said its prayers. So I said my prayers"

(I stole that from an article on Anne Lamott's Facebook page)

 

Last week I posted a youtube video on my Facebook page (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOlpdd7y8MI) - Jimmy Kimmel had parents tell their kids that they'd eaten all their Halloween candy and then video tape it and send it in to him - nice! Anyways, the reactions were predictable - poor little kids.   It was interesting to watch the way they had grouped the clips - it seemed like the first group just burst into tears of shock and horror, the second group were mad and the third group was resigned - one said "maybe next year we can share" - how sweet is that?  The whole thing was just fean (funny/mean - I made that word up).

 

As I thought about it later that day, I realized that it is a really good illustration of how I've reacted to each time we've been given the bad news -

 

First time - shock, open-mouthed horror and deep sadness

Second time - anger and deeper sadness

Third time - resigned, very sad, but strangely, with a bit of hope  

 

Why hope?  Where did that come from?

It doesn't make sense,

but as long as there is life

 and there is something to be done,

there is hope.

Sometimes this cancer goes away

 

 

I've had many people tell me they are so angry about this recurrence and just don't understand or know what to say to us or what to do

 

Rejoice in hope

Be patient in tribulation

Be constant in prayer

 

 Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you

~Maori Proverb

 

 



Time to learn a little Spanish!

Time to learn a little Spanish!

The appointment with the surgeon, Dr. McFadden, went well on Friday.  He is a very soft spoken, kind and caring man who takes the time to sit down and talk to us like he has all the time in the world. 

Even though we've only really met him a few times, and it's been quite a few months by now, he remembered so many little details about Jacqui's last surgery and about her life that he referred to during the appointment.  This was so reassuring - we feel like he really does care, that she's not just a number.

He told us that her surgery this time would be very similar to last time, that there could be minor complications due to scar tissue and that her recovery might be a little longer this time, but that he thought she would do just fine having it and he expected positive results once again.  He has a way of telling us all the things that can go wrong and then saying "But you're not a risk for that, you'll be fine".

Jacqui told him about wanting to go to El Salvador and he said he didn't think there would be any additional risk for her to have the surgery after her return - then I asked him at least 2 more times if he was sure :)    If all goes to plan (duh duh duh - famous last words) all the preliminary testing will be done before we go and then she will have the surgery a week after her return - so the end of January.

Dr. McFadden asked her about going down there and she told him that people have shown her overwhelming love and kindness over the past years that she feels like there is no way to repay that so she wants to give back by giving to these people who are so needy. To which he replied "I like Scotch" - Bedside manner and a sense of humour!!!

So we left the appointment feeling really good - which is weird - she still has cancer, still has to have major lung surgery, but she gets to keep the El Salvador hope alive.

 

Instead of the cancer taking away El Salvador, it can just wait it's turn.

 



I want to go to Disneyland

The appointment at the Tom Baker Cancer Center was yesterday - Jacqui had an Xray followed by consultation with 3 doctors and a resident - a bit of a three ring circus at times - at one point, it was Jacqui, Peter, I, 2 Drs. and a resident in the very small consulting room at once!  It was overwhelming to say the least.

 

Especially since the news was not good - the two little suspicious spots seen in the CT scan 6 months ago on the left lung are no longer just suspicious - they have grown (one from 4mm to 1 cm and the other from 4mm to 6mm) and they have to be removed. Yes, they are cancer, metastasized from the original - very typical for synovial sarcoma. 

Again, our hearts broke

 as Jacqui sat quietly with tears

rolling down her cheeks

 while being told the news. 

 

Then she proceeded to tell them that she was going to El Salvador to build houses in January - they would have to work around that, then she looked at us and said "I want to go to Disneyland".

So we keep marching on....

One bit of good news was that other than the two, there weren't any other shadows on the left lung and the right lung is clear.  That is a big deal.  Although there was a bit of confusion as the tech had read the scan wrong and said there was a spot on each lung.  Our favorite Dr. Pulaski quickly went to check and came back to say the right did look clear - there had been a mistake. 

 

Thankfully we didn't have to wait long to get an appointment with the Thoracic surgeon - same one as last time - his office called today and she is going for a consultation on Friday.

 

So in answer to all other questions - my answer is "I don't know" and I will alternate that with "We have to wait".

We process this - in our family - in 4 very different ways, it's hard to mourn this loss of hope (not totally, but the hope that this time it would be okay), try not to worry about what's coming (we've been through this and know what to expect) and comfort each other at the same time - collectively we feel bored with this disease and it's demands and exhausted from keeping it together.

 

Thanks to all who have been reaching out, supporting us with your thoughts and prayers and in so many other ways.  One of the hardest parts is that everyone is so supportive and we feel like we are  disappointing everyone once again.  This is not meant to be a plea for sympathy or self serving, it's just so touching to see how many care so deeply - it's humbling. 

 

So bad news....

but then someone reminded me about the Farmer from my last blog...

Maybe...

Maybe

This afternoon is the CT scan - and yesterday someone told us this story:

Maybe
Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.
“Maybe,” the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.
“Maybe,” replied the old man.
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
“Maybe,” answered the farmer.
The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
“Maybe,” said the farmer.


It's all perspective.....Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanks John!

So people having been asking - How’s Jacqui?

So people having been asking - How’s Jacqui?  How is she feeling?  What’s next? – so I guess it’s time for a little update.   

Summer flew by, starting with the flood and then Jacqui moving out at the beginning of July.  Tyler got busier in his job and is rarely home, and we’re almost feeling like empty nesters again – he’s looking forward to making us real empty nesters again! 

It was summer - road trips and plane trips, lazy, long dinners on the deck, tomatoes from our garden, weddings, bare feet, being warm  

Now it’s fall – long sleeves, routine, falling leaves, jackets, dark mornings and evenings, chilly air and appointments.... 

So to answer the questions:   Jacqui is doing well - living in her new place, enjoying work, going to music festivals, hanging with friends, making plans to go to El Salvador to build houses in January.  She looks healthy and is feeling really good...

What’s next? 

On Monday she went for blood tests

October 14^th –  CT scan -  yes thanksgiving day 

October 21^st - Tom Baker Clinic for a checkup and meet with her oncologists to find out the results of the scan

October 28 – another follow up visit 

I’ve hesitated even talking about this and now even typing it puts a lump in my throat and I am back to reminding myself to breathe.  I don’t want to seem fatalistic or pessimistic, but no matter how positive we may seem - it’s scary.   

I have to think back to that blog I wrote awhile ago about turning around into the darkness (the unknown) and just taking tiny steps to see what it holds.  "So much has been based on what I can see within the light, maybe I need to use other senses and accept the darkness (the unknown) and the beauty that is hidden within it."

So I can go into this two ways: 

Walk in slowly, shoulders hunched in protection, my arms folded around me, breathing shallowly and my eyes squinty in case something looms up that I don’t want to see.  
 

Walk in confidently with my arms open, a smile on my face – expecting the very best – positive thoughts, making plans, future hope - savoring every moment...come what may.

I'm doing a bit of both - trying for more of the second.

So if you are so inclined, we would appreciate your thoughts and prayers.

 

It’s like walking in the sunshine on ice that’s very thin

As I walk around in my house, I see boxes, bins or drawers filled with things...

• Christmas decorations
• My stampede “wardrobe” – yes – after 17 years, it’s become a wardrobe – not big, but ....
• Tea towels for different seasons – fall, Easter, Valentine’s Day, etc
• Winter coats & boots & skates
• Summer clothes
• Canning Jars
• Suitcases
• Tax documents for the last 7 years

Lots of things that I don’t use all the time, just take them out when I want or need them – just because they are put away doesn’t mean I don’t have these things, it just means that I have them

safely tucked away so that I have easy access for when the time comes

I also have parts of myself tucked away...

As people have been reading my blog, they are sometimes surprised at the way I express myself, they say I always seem together and happy, just taking everything so well and this just shows another side of me. 

I started to wonder if I’m being 2-faced, dishonest or schizophrenic

But I know I’m not, it’s simply this, I don’t want to act sad, disappointed, disillusioned, weighed down - I am a happy person, I want to enjoy life, to live each day, not waste time curled up in a ball being sad

Although I have a big “sadness” in my life, a big burden to carry around right now, it can’t consume me

So I put it in a box, an old cardboard box – with the flaps folded over to close it – with a hole in the middle where the flaps don’t meet, the hole where the things stuffed in there threaten to pop out.  And I put that box away in my mind –

safely tucked away so that I have easy access for when the time comes

that I need to take the time to feel those feelings 

So I’m not double-minded or shallow or in denial, not everything needs to be out all the time – I don’t have my Christmas tree up in March, I don’t wear my bathing suit in the snow (usually) and I only wear stampede clothes for 10 days in July – so when you see me happy, I’m happy, but never doubt that -

It’s like walking in the sunshine

on ice that’s very thin

 barely able to hold me above the

dark

icy

water

of my sadness

 

To everything there is a season - A time to cry and a time to laugh

A time to grieve and a time to dance

 



 

 

Experiences can be completely different, but sometimes there is understanding

Standing on the Ridge in Parkland looking down at the flooded Bow River.

 

It’s been just over a week since the flood.

 

Thursday, June 20th we went to bed knowing that things were bad, but when we started the day on Friday morning, we woke up to the reality of something that would be devastating, life changing, involve great loss, an event of vast proportions.  We even had a friend in our basement that had been evacuated from his home in the middle of the night

 

Three years ago on June 20, 2010, we went to bed knowing that things were bad, but when we started the day that next morning, we woke up to the reality of something that would be devastating, life changing, involve great loss, an event of vast proportions (to us).  It was the day of Jacqui’s 1^st surgery – when she had her foot amputated, the cancer taken away – the first time.

 

All this week while we’ve been in our house that’s “high and dry”, free from all the hardship that so many are going through – I’ve been feeling so removed and untouched  and a little detached.  It’s just been too much to take in – in our area, it was easy to forget it had happened and it wasn’t until I drove to look at the places that had been flooded, had seen the devastation, the loss, the piles of garbage piled by the roads after being dragged from flooded basements,   the muck and mire – that it made it real.   

 

I feel that in my dry world, though physically I don’t get it, maybe mentally I did just a little bit. 

 

I understand what it feels like to:

 

- wake up in the morning after and have those first few seconds of normal - until I remember
- have a feeling of hopelessness and despair
- have the days and weeks of recovery seem endless
- experience real loss
- realize that everything may not be okay for a very long time or ever
- be confused while filling out endless, mind boggling insurance forms - worried about how it's all going to work out
- have to make decisions when you can hardly remember your name  

- I know how it feels to wake up in the morning, to hope to see the sun and to find that even though the sun’s up, it still feels very, very dark

 

Experiences can be completely different, but sometimes there is understanding

A few months ago, our minister, John, asked if we'd be willing to talk on a Sunday morning about the ups and downs of our faith during Jacqui's journey over the past 3 years.  We thought about it and decided we would.  It happened this past Sunday morning - a little scary, a lot weird, extreme vulnerability, a bit like sitting there naked (aren't you supposed to imagine the audience in their underwear? - I got that so, so mixed up!!!).  Anyways, if you're interested in hearing about struggles in faith and belief, here is the link:

http://www.canyoncreek.ca/sermons/20130609%20-%20When%20Faith%20Collides%20with%20Suffering.mp3

Thanks again for caring.

Why...

Time flies when you’re having fun....

 

why is that 

why doesn’t it slow down when you’re having fun so you can wring the joy out of every moment

why doesn’t it speed up when times are hard so you don’t have to feel the pain for so long 

why is the winter long 

why is the summer short 

why, when after Jacqui’s surgery in January, did the thought of her having to wait 6 – 8 weeks to heal and go back work seemed like a lifetime

why now, with having no appointments to worry about until October, does it seems like the time is flying by 
why is that 

Time does what it wants – it has nothing to do with me, I can’t hurry it along, I can’t slow it down, I can’t borrow more, I can’t give it away

So I commend the enjoyment of life,

 because there is nothing better for a person under the sun

 than to eat and drink and be glad.

Then joy will accompany them in their toil

 all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.

                                                                                -King Solomon

Worst Day/Best Day

May 12^th – Worst Day/Best Day

It’s so interesting how a day can be so meaningful in so many ways.  I am a numbers person – I love math, I always love the way numbers fit together and seem to have significance, when I can’t sleep at night I count backwards from 1000 by 7 and that puts me to sleep and my favorite number has been 4 since I turned 4 – it’s just my thing.  I guess that partly explains why I pay attention to significant dates – birthdays, anniversaries, my first date with Peter, things like that – in fact sometimes it’s weird what I remember but that’s just how my mind works. 

And May 12^th has become one of those dates.  The “worst” day!  Three years ago today, May 12, 2010, we were told that Jacqui had synovial sarcoma – it was the day that forever changed our lives, ripped the rose coloured glasses right off our faces  and set us on a journey that we never imagined or wanted to take.

The days since then have been by turns horrifying, amazing, boring, exciting, challenging, scary, fun, crazy, sad, happy, tiring everything – kind of normal for a life but there have been some very intense highs and lows, but thankfully a few more “normal” days here and there as well.  It’s interesting to reflect on what has taken place – but the biggest thing that stands out to me is that it’s been 3 years – 3 more years with Jacqui (with many, many more expected and hoped for).  Every day with all those we love is a gift, but as I’ve said before, I feel like my senses are heightened even more because of what’s gone on.

So that brings me to this May 12, same date, but it’s Mother’s Day this time.  Last year we were at Carroll University in Waukesha, WI celebrating Tyler’s university graduation – that’s a good mother’s day gift!  But this year we were back to our usual Mother’s Day celebrating – the Forzani Mother’s Day run – I can’t even remember how many years we’ve done it, but it must be around 10 or so and it’s the second one Jacqui has done since her amputation.  Can you even imagine how proud and humbled I felt running behind her as she ran this race with 17,000 or so people –watching her dart in and out as she passed the slow people in front of her!!!!   At the end - as it happened - there weren’t many people around us so we crossed the finish line all together and as we did, the announcers called our names and said “Here come the Warner’s – watch out for those crazy Warner’s” – That made this a “best” day.

This is also my first mother’s day without my mom – and how I wish I could talk to her today.  When Jacqui was first diagnosed I was so thankful that she was so far into her dementia that she didn’t understand what Jacqui had to go through.  But now I think I would have loved to be able to talk to her about all that she had suffered and gone through when my sister Gloria was ill and then how it was for her to lose her daughter (not that I’m planning on losing Jacqui anytime soon).  When things weren’t going well, one of my mom’s favorite comments was “That’s how it is in this old world” and it used to drive us crazy, it seemed so fatalistic - and she didn’t share a lot of what that meant to her – or maybe she tried to tell us but we just weren’t ready to hear it - I think now I might know what questions to ask to unlock her heart and I’m sorry I missed that. 

So May 12^th is my worst, best, proudest, most nostalgic, run of the mill day of the year – actually kind of like any day of the year can be when you really look at it!

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.

                                                    It’s been awhile, what happened  to April?

An amazing two weeks in Mexico ate most of it up and the getting ready and the getting back to normal has pretty much filled up the rest!

On the Monday we came home, Jacqui was scheduled for a follow up appointment.  The results were … well, it’s a “good news, we’ll wait and see news” story.  The “good” news is that other than her left lung everything was clear.  The “we’ll wait and see” news is that there are spots on her left lung… a few that are clearly a result of the surgery (scar tissue, bruising) and then 2 that they are not quite sure about. 

They may be something to worry about or not but nothing will be done about them until the fall as she is still considered in recovery from her surgery in January, but we’re glad that they do have this baseline to work from. 

So in the mean time

 she’s busy, busy, busy – working, playing, getting ready to move out, meeting new friends,

reconnecting with old ones – just living her life…

So we’ll live, love and laugh right along with her! 

      “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid."

Frederick Buechner

I almost feel like myself sometimes.

Jacqui started back  to work on March 18 – all the pieces fell into place and she didn’t have to retrain – so she’s been back at it for almost 2 weeks.  She’s so happy to be there, everyone welcomed her back and she’s quickly getting into the swing of things.  It’s taken a bit of getting used to being on her feet again for long periods, but they are letting her take time in different areas to get her used to everything again. 

Last time I said that her surgeon didn’t want her to have any CT scans in the next while to avoid alarm at what may be “suspicious readings” as a result of her surgery, but her Oncologist wants her to have one done so that he can get a baseline for future consideration.  This caused us a bit of anxiety of course, but they are quite insistent and I guess we can always opt to not hear the results.  Either way, she’s having it on Friday, April 5^th and then goes for her regular oncology appointments on April 22. 

Those dates just come way too fast. 

In the meantime, Peter and I are headed to Mexico.

One week on our own celebrating our 30^th anniversary and then the second week we will celebrate the wedding of our nephew, Ryan to Holly with family and friends – so wonderful.  People keep asking us if we’re getting excited, but I can’t even imagine it – I just keep thinking something is going to happen and we won’t be able to go.  Having said that, I am packed…

I feel like I’m constantly having to work those hope and faith “muscles”, it’s amazing, no matter how fit you try to keep them, they always ache just a little bit.  Shouldn’t it get easier?

Jacqui is continuing with her running and so the four of us are registered for the Mother’s Day Run – 5K - so that’s something to look forward to! It just makes her so happy to be able to run and that’s always my favorite way to spend Mother’s Day.  Last year Ty graduated from university on Mother’s Day, that wasn’t so bad either!

Anyways, just a bit of news, life just keeps marching on,

 and we're hanging on for dear life!

 I almost feel like myself sometimes.

 

 

 

 

Why would you waste even one second of that time worrying or being afraid?

We finally had Jacqui’s appointment with her surgeon, Dr. McFadden and he has given her the go  ahead to go back to work – unrestricted – so that’s really good news.  She is starting to get very bored to say the least and this gives her a light at the end of this tunnel!  But there are still a few more hoops to jump through:

1.  The Dr’s office has to send a letter to the insurance company, they assured her that would be done tomorrow. 
2.  Assuming the letter is all in order, the insurance company will approve this and then they will…
3.  Advise Apple that she is ready to return and then…
4.  Apple has to reinstate her into the schedule, this could mean either putting her directly back in or training her again – they take training very seriously, her initial training was something like 13 days!!! 

So who knows when it will actually happen, but at least the ball is rolling and she is on her way to getting back to work – and back to “normal”

Anyways having this in sight is definitely helpful and we’re coming up with ways of keeping her busy – in fact when she does go back to work, I’ll miss having my little “wife” – she’s been grocery shopping, making dinner, baking – I’m not minding that at all!!!

Jacqui’s next scheduled appointment will be at the Tom Baker (cancer clinic) on April 22, and it will be just a regular checkup.  For the time being she will be going in every 3 months just to keep an eye on things with Xrays and CAT scans.  Dr. McFadden suggested she didn’t have a CAT scan until 9 months after the date of surgery because before that any scarring or healing tissue could show up as “suspicious spots” and it would cause a lot of unnecessary concern.  I feel okay with that, as they will be doing xrays before that and it also gives me a time of easy breathing.  It’s hard to explain, but the concern about it coming back is so scary to me, that the idea that I can breath easy even for a few extra months is really comforting.  I can just tell myself everything is okay until Oct 3 (9 months from surgery). 

I’ve been struggling with that - how can I possibly cope with this horrible monster breathing down my back.  Everytime I forget about what’s going on and daydream about happy things in the future, I feel like I come back to earth with a jolt when I think about what else the future might bring.  I was telling this to someone the other day (a very wise person) and she said something like: 

“At least you know that you don’t know what’s going to happen. 

You may have only 6 months or 6 years till disaster strikes again, or you may have 60 years,

but you know that life is uncertain and that you need to appreciate every day

 everyone knows that, but not everyone really knows that.  

Why would you waste even one second of that time worrying or being afraid?”

And it makes so much sense, but it’s hard - it may be simple but it’s not easy – but a discipline, a muscle that I can work to develop. 

It’s like eating chips - a huge bag of chips from Costco vs an individual sized bag.  The tendency (for me anyways) is to open a bag of Costco chips and chow down - loving the first 5 handfuls, and then the next 6 -20 – not so much (I did that just yesterday).  If you have a small bag, you tend to eat them slower and savour them.  Either way it’s good to learn to savour and enjoy!

In the meantime, speaking of muscles – that little Jacqui has been running – yes running – twice this week!!!  She has loved running for years and even though she was able to do the Mother’s Day Run in 2011, just 11 months after her last surgery, because of problems with a really badly fitting leg for the last year and a half, she has been unable to.  She has gone back to her original Prostheticist, John, now that she’s back in Calgary and he has been working with her to get things right!!!  It’s so wonderful to see her feeling confident that her leg won’t “fall off” – and being able to do what she loves.  So we’re signing up for the Mother’s Day Run again – so exciting. 

I’ll end with a quote that has been meaningful to me lately and goes along with my new “exercise regime”:

(a life of faith) is sometimes like a trapeze act.

You can swing on the bar, exercising and building muscles all you want.

But if you want to excel, you have to let go

with nothing beneath you

and reach out for the next trapeze bar

Paul Tournier 

Won’t be the first time I’ve been called a monkey.

Buddy

A sad day today.  After almost 14 years with our little Buddy, it was time to let him go.  Before the four of us took him to the vet, he had a breakfast of dog food and peanut butter, a bowl of shredded cheese and some Heavenly Hash ice cream.  At the clinic we spent time with him in a private room before the vet preformed the procedure.  We let him run around the room to explore and when he was done, he came and sat down beside me and leaned against my knee as if to say “Okay, I’m ready”.  So sad - we wrapped him in a blanket, gave him lots of pets and snuggles and Tyler got one last kiss from him.  A very peaceful end and a bittersweet good bye for us.  Buddy was the cutest, baddest dog around, fiercely loyal to those he came to love, but very cranky to those who he wasn’t sure about.  He was known for his “smile”, but it wasn’t to be taken for granted – it could quickly turn to a snarl for those who hadn’t “earned” his love.  Love him or not, he wasn’t a dog people didn’t notice.  We will miss him dearly.  Jacqui especially will miss her little “Nurse Buddy” as he’s been her constant companion these past weeks.

Well, now to what’s going on with Jacqui.  Thursday was the day she was supposed to see her surgeon Dr. McFadden and she was hoping to get the ok to go back to work.  Unfortunately, he had to go out of town for an emergency and her appointment is postponed until March 8 – we’re waiting again!  She is now working with the doctor’s office and is hoping to be able to get written permission to be able to go back to work before the 8^th.  She is getting bored, all her projects are done and she is ready to get back to work and move on with her life!!!   

She is able to drive again now which gives her more freedom and she spent a wonderful extended weekend in Vancouver visiting most of her many aunts, uncles and cousins.  She was also seen ordering the “Jacqui’s Spicy Grilled Cheese” sandwich at the Penny Café in LA (Lethbridge, Alberta and yes it’s named after her).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

So after her appt on March 8, the next appt will be her next checkup at the cancer clinic which will be April 22, when she will have an X-ray and checkup to monitor how things are going. 

Someone read me this poem the other day: 

I walked a mile with Pleasure

She chatted all the way

And left me none the wiser

For all she had to say

I walked a mile with sorrow

And never a word said she

But, Oh, the things I learned from her

When sorrow walked with me

Robert Browning Hamilton

 

It inspired me.  

So often during this time I’ve felt so isolated and like I’m wandering blindly in the darkness and the thought of walking in silence with “sorrow” really resonated with me.  I don’t like sorrow or darkness –I love the bright sunshine, with lots of people to have fun with – that’s just me.  

It made me wonder what I have learned or have to learn in this time.    

I kind of feel like my life “before” was a party and I was either pushed out or fell out, I didn’t leave voluntarily, but I really want to get back in and I just can’t.  In my mind I’m standing outside my old life, in the dark, with my hands and face pressed against the window, trying to get back in and I just can’t.  The light represents how I used to think, feel and believe, and I just can’t get that back. 

Normally I am scared of the dark (I always have been and I blame my sister–lol), but I don’t feel afraid.  When I was telling someone this they asked me “Is God in that party or outside in the dark” and I think He’s in both places – so both parts of my life, the old familiar and the new, very unfamiliar. 

So if I’m outside and I can’t get back in, maybe that means it’s time to take a look over my shoulder  at the darkness and take a tiny step into it to see what it has for me.  So much has been based on what I can see within the light, maybe I need to use other senses and accept the darkness and the beauty that is hidden within it.

For example: 

What might “look” like an ominous presence in a dark hallway may be a loved one with open arms and a warm hug  

What might “look” like a big rock in my path might be a porcupine waddling across – a amazing surprise but you don’t want to get too close (this actually happened to me once when I was running with my friends)

What might “look” like an large animal crouched and ready to pounce might just be a bag of garbage, not pleasant, but not a danger 

And the reality is, it never stays dark for ever – the sun will eventually rise.   

The person with the poem also told me a story of a man who was feeling like he was chasing a sunset trying to hang on to the last rays of light, he was falling farther and farther behind and he felt like giving up.  Finally he realized that he would never catch up but if he stopped and faced the darkness, he could run the other way and meet the sunrise instead. 

 

Hmmmm...more to think about....