Exhaustion

I knew long before morning came that I was not going to be able to leave the house. How sad I am to have to miss church. Drew had agreed to attend with me and I was so looking forward to worshiping with him. But alas! Such is not to be. At least not today. I mourn the situation.





I woke every hour in discomfort all night long. I ache everywhere. My head hurts. My muscles refuse to cooperate. I sweat profusely yet do not have a temperature. My throat aches. It is difficult to swallow but my glands are not swollen. My teeth hurt for no reason. My joints are all swollen and I can barely move my fingers. My ankles look like they are waterlogged. I know I can not tolerate clothing. It is no use. I am confined to bed.





I close my eyes and pray, shifting to find some comfortable position. How long before this passes, whatever it is? I doze off, waking an hour later. Can I get up yet? No. Go back to sleep. I take a small swallow of water. The silky liquid soothes my parched mouth and wets my throat. I doze again. Time ticks by. I am dimly aware that I would have been in the service, then at the fellowship dinner afterwards, then on the way home. Church is done, but I am still miserable.





Drew has not moved. Just as well. I cannot help him right now. I feel badly that the dog has not been walked or fed, but getting up is impossible much less maneuvering the steps to get outside. Fortunately, she is not fussing. She seems to sense that I am in a bad way. I doze off again, tossing fitfully. If only I could read some Scripture verses, or say some from memory, but I am too ill.





I clumsily slide my Bible from the nightstand into my arms and hug it as best I can, taking comfort in the closeness, feeling somehow God will hear me. Noon comes and goes. I can not even figure out how to take any medicine. I sip another bit of water and roll over. Drew is stirring. Four pm. I finally manage to slip out of bed and crawl to the chair in the living room.





Drew is solicitous of my state, offers me some cold water, a dish of ice cream that might slide down easily. I am starting to feel a bit better. Did I have some weird kind of chemo flashback? Some odd flu? No idea. I am happy it is going away. I have to open the library tomorrow and I need my strength. Tonight I can barely lift my arms. By 8 pm I head back to bed hopeful that after a good night's rest I will be OK.





These are the days that take me aback and make me think I will never be well. Thank God it is passing.

Sidewalk Skeleton

At first I thought it was a dried up milkweed pod. I just glanced quickly down and saw what looked like long white stems with bits of fluffy stuff stuck to it. But suddenly I realized that I also saw what looked like a bird claw. I stopped Sugar short and took a closer look.

Aw, how sad. There are two claws all shriveled up and brown, and the triangular shape of what once was a beak, clearly where the little head was laid back against the sidewalk. The stems are bones. It was so tiny I wondered if I was looking at the remains of a hummingbird. Poor little thing. It must have fallen out of its nest and been done in by another creature. How long it had lain there I could only speculate.

Sugar jerked on her leash, anxious to get going, definitely uninterested in the lost life that lay before me unheeded by the crazy world. Reluctantly, I moved on, deeply touched by the plight of the baby bird. The image stayed with me all day and well into the night as I wondered what had so tragically led to its demise.

I will never know. I mourn the passing of this tiny creature whose short life came to such an early and unhappy end. I sorrow for the unsung music the world will never hear and for the generations that have been snuffed out. At bedtime, I mention to the Creator in my prayers the little bird on the sidewalk so stripped of life and how sorry I am that our world is so inhospitable. I long for the recreation when such things will be set aright once again and little birds will live the long days intended for them and the air will be rife with joy and song.

Adieu, bitty baby. Adieu. You will be missed.

Interesting Discussion

I sat across from my colleague and listened carefully to her questions. Is it right to pray for someone to be healed if going through that experience makes them stronger? She made it personal. Look at how many cancer patients I touch, how empathetic I am to their plight, how well I understand their needs because I have been there myself. Would I have been involved with cancer patients if I had not been one? What right does she have to pray that I be delivered from something that is effecting so much good?

I understand where she is coming from, but I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone even if the experience helped a million people. And by her own admission, this is all theological speculation since she has never suffered such things. Still, I have to take her question seriously. Would I care anything at all about the difficulties of cancer patients if I were not one? Probably not.

Does everyone who has cancer reach out to other cancer patients? No. So it isn't exactly the disease that causes the help to flow. More likely it is the experience of God's grace in the situation that allows people to reach out to others. When you are helped, you tend to help.

But why couldn't I just have been given the understanding and empathy for cancer patients without having to experience cancer? After all, work is done with alcoholics by people who are not alcoholics. I don't need to have had a terrible accident with a bicycle to understand the importance of wearing a helmet. Hum. Perhaps these are not good analogies.

For me it is a moot point since I do have cancer and I am concerned about the care of cancer patients. Still, it would be great if I could be healed and continue to work with cancer patients as a well individual. And I will dispel the anxiety right now. Please DO pray that I will be healed. I way prefer to be whole. And I continue to hold out for that hope to be realized.

And if I could go back and choose, I would choose not to have cancer and to believe that God would lead me to do something creative, excellent and of great value that will touch the lives of many through showing loving grace in whatever situation requires it. And maybe that would have been enough to reach cancer patients too.

First Day

Yeah and hallelujah! Our new systems librarian starts today. My biggest concern is that we not overwhelm her with our lists of projects that have been on hold for so long - some of them for years. She is brave to step into a long vacant position, but I suspect she is more than up to the task.

Of course, we are not able to give her even the basics. Her office does not yet have the new computer. Something of a handicap for a systems person. And just to make it more interesting, the facilities people are in the building today and for the next couple of days cleaning the carpets. I am just thrilled that they are doing the carpets. They already did the upholstery. We will feel ever so spiffy going into our - can you believe it? - 5th year in the "new" building. We are holding up well.

And to top it off, we had our awards plaques hung near the circulation desk for the honors we have earned. An impressive wall of fame. I hope our new librarian will come to love this place as much as I do. I remember my first week in the old building. We have come a long way despite the constant change and continual challenge of keeping it all going.

Here's to first days and long stays.

Getting Going

Jairus House has been at a minimal activity level for some time while I worked on completing my Master of Church Music degree. This fall, I hope to jump into a more hefty level and progress. To get myself back on an even keel, I arranged to meet with an accountant and get the books in order. I have missed a filing date or two and need to catch up.

In addition, I am actively seeking board members who are interested in moving the work forward, being part of the working committees. I have a meeting scheduled with an experienced hospital chaplain to seek her advice and suggestions. At long long last the work may move forward as I hope. I do have one Board member signed up and a second person very interested. They are encouraging!

We have scheduled an information meeting in late September, and optimistically scheduled a board meeting for October. I think we may actually get this thing off the ground and finally be able to bring comfort and encouragement to more cancer patients than a mere handful! That would be terrific.

Picnic

Our students this summer have been working on another long and mind numbing project. We are doing an inventory. We haven't done one in some time and I am curious about the agreement between what our catalog says we have and what is actually on the shelf.

So far, we have discovered a lot of unexpected issues like incorrect call numbers on books, and uncatalogued items and strange records in the online catalog. We hope to finish the circulating collection upstairs minus the oversized and the juvenile literature collections. Our students have been doing a wonderful job.

Every summer, we invite the students and their families/spouses to a picnic, usually held at Sharon's place since it is fairly close to the Library location. We grill hamburgs, have potato salad, watermelon, baked beans, chip and dip, brownies, s'mores - the usual picnic fare. This year we have a delightful group relaxing in the lawn chairs around the firepit, chatting and munching.

The weather cooperates by being neither too hot nor too chilly or rainy. The sun is shining but we have shade to cover us. How delightful to kick back, play a game of bean bag toss, catch up on everyone's life happenings. Even the ants stayed away. The sun was slanting in the west and the air growing chilly when finally we broke camp and headed home. In the gentle twilight, Drew and I saw a deer grazing.

Peace. How savory. How I will treasure the calm and quiet of such a gentle unhurried evening. Hang on to these times. They don't come often enough. Deep sigh. Ahhhhh.

Spiritual Direction

So. The older I grow, the more aware I become of my shortcomings and inadequacies. I want to change, but I am pretty sure I can't just make myself behave better. I definitely need God's help to be a nicer person now that I can see my own - well, immaturites. I have heard about seeking a spiritual director and have given that some thought. Perhaps if I can improve my relationship with God, I may make some progress on becoming more godly.

I prayed about it for awhile. I recall when I was in my twenties reading the verse about the older, more mature women teaching the younger women how to live, and I used to pray that God would send me one of those mature older women to work with. I just never found any older women who acted in ways I thought at the time were worthy of emulating.

I see things differently now. I finally asked to meet with someone I admire to see if she would be willing to take me on. We chatted for awhile about the idea. She understood my desire, and called these issues I struggle with "dissonances." We seem to be on the same page. So we will try meeting on a monthly basis for awhile to work on the state of my heart. I have a great deal of hope that my behavior will improve. That would be a plus. Sometimes I can be downright ugly.

Naptime

I hadn't meant to take a nap. Just that the apartment was quiet and I was tired. I made the mistake of laying down on my bed to read, and next thing I knew, I was waking up for dinner. Where did the day go?

When I was a kid and we were forced to take naps on Sunday afternoons, I chafed. And usually spent the day reading book after book. Nancy Drew. King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table tales. Black Stallion. Elsie Dinsmore (what did I ever see in those!). Joy Spartan. Sugar Creek Gang (horrors!).

Now that I am not forced to take naps, I want to. And I actually sleep. Even if I am not supposed to. Go figure. That's what I get for becoming a grandmother without reading the rules first.

Lavendar Yellow

A huge lavender bush blooms prolifically beneath my bedroom window. The tall deep purple spikes stand a good 2 or 3 feet, brushing against the brick wall and splaying out over the sidewalk. Every morning when I walk Sugar there are three or four honey bees gathering pollen, not even waiting for any morning dew to evaporate. Savory stuff.

Today I was disappointed to see that the deep purple was turning a fuzzy brownish yellow. Not enough water, I thought with sadness. Our drought is touching everything, even the most hardy plants. On closer inspection, I realized that in fact, the spikes are going to seed and forming little pods along the flower petals. I had no idea lavender did that. I thought it spread through root growth.


I am relieved and happy that the lavender is OK - and even prospering despite the heat and the lack of water. Last year my friend gave me a beribboned spray of lavender and it still hangs in my office over my desk to remind me that there is a while world out there and I ought to slow down and enjoy it.

There is so much life in God's good creations that even when a plant has been harvested and dead for over a year, there is more life in it than you realize, an amazing contrast with the harsh lifeless technology that populates most office spaces. Even if I don't have a live plant, a dried plant will do.

RIT Weekend

Drew is more convinced than ever that he should go to RIT and major in digital cinema. He signed up for the College and Careers weekend. Prospective students spend the day on campus and do the kinds of things that students in that major are likely to do. They get a taste of college life by staying in the dorms.

And concurrently, they hold sessions for the parents to acclimate them to a non traditional approach to college. As usual for this place, the event is well planned. We are more than welcomed and signs directing us are plentiful. They have an assortment of breakfast foods and drinks awaiting, and golf carts to take us wherever we need to be.

The best part was the clear information given to the parents about the program, the expectations, the financial aid (I have been dealing with financial aid for years both for myself and my other boys, and they told me helpful things I had not been aware of!), and admissions processes. They documented what they were telling us and encouraged us to check with other academic institutions to verify their claims. And they told us what kinds of things to be on the lookout for, no matter where we were applying.

Drew was a little disappointed in the dorm room - mostly because there was no air conditioning and it was HOT on the 8th floor. Other wise, he is excited to be part of it. Nicely done.

Finished But Not Yet Done

Oh my gracious! I have struggled with the dissertation corrections, had near meltdowns when I thought a virus had destroyed all my work, tried to get all the corrections to line up - change one example and then everything after that one has to be redone - and there are 83 examples! Line up the page numbers in the Table of Contents, then add one more paragraph and have to renumber all the pages. It seemed never ending. Yes, I want it to be right, but 170 pages of detailed precision correction work is a veritable stretch for a non-detail oriented person like myself.


Of course, if I were still working on content, I wouldn't mind so much. But the majority of this is form. And yes, form is important. But really. I thought I would go bonkers. You cannot imagine my relief when at long last I was proofing the final pages, knowing that submittal for sign off can't be far off. What a relief to push send on the email and hand it off to the program director. And I thought the service concert recital was the most work. Not even close. The dissertation required much more than the preparation and performance.


Well, its finished, but it won't be done until I get the OK to print and send for binding. I fully plan to walk in December to receive this Master's degree in Church Music on which I have spent 7 years. And during which time I grew, learned, and came away with so much for ministry to others. I can't believe I ever thought about dropping out and not finishing. After the first bout of cancer, I actually thought there was no point doing this degree since my gig was up and it was entirely possible I would die before completion.


But I knew the minute I stepped on campus after deciding to try and return to some kind of normal and pick up the shattered pieces of my life that I had made the right decision. That summer I spent a lot of time walking by the lake and crying. It was extremely healing for me. But being with my colleagues and focusing attention on things sacred and musical was far and away more important.


I like to think that when I get to heaven, I will instantly have all the music skill and understanding that I will ever want or need. And that may happen. But in the meantime, if I want this life to approach anything like heaven, I must learn and do and be all that I can, seeking the highest standard of excellence possible and striving to bring as many others along as I can. Then maybe, just maybe, we can experience some little slice of heaven right here, right now as we apply our skills to recreate the original thing that God intended all along.


Well, time to jump into the next paper - or project - or event - or happening. I'll let you know when the binding occurs.

The ENT Appointment

My voice is much better than it has been in a long time. I can trust my speaking to be reliable. My vocal range is mostly back and the froggy roughness has mostly subsided. The rough bumps on my tongue have cleared up, the sinus drainage has ceased, and other than the occasional swollen gland and swallowing glitch, I am doing well.


I think that the ear, nose and throat doctor will sign off on me. I am happy to be coming in feeling so well. He will be happy with me. I meet another new intern. She is pleasant, runs through my history, then does a cursory exam. Open wide - say ah - say eee - say EEE. She sticks mirrors and depressors in my mouth and flanges open my nostrils. Then she palpates my neck. She spends quite some time on my throat area, but I enjoy the massage effect and chalk it up to inexperience.


I ask to hold off on the numbing spray because I don't think the doctor will find it necessary to scope my throat today, and she is happy to wait for his decision. I have a few minutes by myself, and then he comes in, happy to see me again. We chat a bit, and he repeats all that she had already done. He also spends an inordinate amount of time palpating my throat. Still, I do not think anything of it until he draws a stool up and sits in front of me, looking me directly in the eyes.


There are two small bumps in your glands. I don't think it is anything you need to worry about. (I have a hard time hearing the rest of what he is saying after that). It could just be a temporary thing that will self correct. Nothing major at this point. But I am not going to sign off on you just yet. Make sure in the next scan that they cover this area, and I will keep posted if anything of concern comes of it. I don't think it will. Especially considering that you will have chemo in August and will be seeing your oncologist then. Make sure she follows through with it though.


For one brief moment my head goes AAARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!! And then I am done. Right now there is nothing to be concerned about, and in fact, nothing may come of it at all. Hang on to those words, dearie. Just a little something to watch in case. Nothing serious. Right.

White Face

Today I am headed for the Charity Care office to try and get a handle on where the bills all are in the cue. I have long since met my $6000 cap for the year in what has been submitted to the insurance company. But I have not paid out the full amount as of yet. I can't seem to figure out what has been processed and what is still in the pipeline. It's just easier to ask the experts and let them figure it out.


I park in the garage, a tricky proposition since several floors are under construction. As I head into the lobby and towards the hall where the financial and chaplaincy offices are housed (I wonder why they put those two services in the same area?), I see several Amish people gathered about the bathroom doors. A young man in full beard and broad brimmed hat is standing close to a woman in long dress and gauzy hair cap. She is bent over and leaning against the wall.


Her face is white as a sheet and her eyes are filled with distress though her face shows no emotion. The young man hovers, concerned. I stand still a minute, hating to pass and disrupt their situation. I am fearful that she will pass out and fall to the floor. He extends his arm, steadying her while she rights herself and takes a deep breath. The continue to stand there, but seem OK so I pass by, saying a quick prayer for her.


While I wait to speak to someone in the office, another man enters. He is overweight and huffing with the effort of walking. Sweat pours down his brow and he mops it with a handkerchief, plopping down on a couch. "Just saw some of them Aimish," he grunts. "Crying shame about that accident. They say 7 or 8 of 'em died. They brought the rest here."


I am shocked. I have not heard about any accident, and I inquire as to the nature of the incident. Turns out some drunk driver passed a tanker truck and hit a pickup truck headon, causing the tanker to flip and land on a 15 passenger van of Amish farmers touring farms in the area. At least that is his version of the incident. (For the news story and more correct version, see here).


I think of the poor woman in the hall. She has lost friends, maybe family. Perhaps she was injured herself. I feel badly for her and take up praying in earnest. At very least, the horribleness of the accident will replay in her head for awhile if she was in the van. I am sorry for her pain, even if she is just here to visit the wounded.


At the same time, I am once again reminded of how blessed I am and the importance of reaching out to others in need. I will see what is being done to help and do what I can do. Life is so unpredictable. One minute you are filled with joy and hope and doing well. Then in an instant, it can all change. Its head shaking.

Orange Grass

At first, I thought the early morning sun was playing tricks. Yesterday the grass was definitely brown and dead. As soon as I opened the front door this morning to walk Sugar, the glare of orange nearly blinded me. But it wasn't the sun shining at some awkward angle. The overnight rains tickled the grass roots just enough to stir them, make them think they should wake up and grow. You can almost feel the roots forcing the grass to turn green, to absorb every speck of rain and demand that green return.


In places it seems to be working. Wherever there is ample tree shade, where the grass was not quite so dead, there is a splotch of green. Like some strange rash, the lawns are mottled shades of brown, orange and green. And here, at Sugar's turn around point, there is a patch of purple clover! Innocently nodding in the slight breeze, unaware of the trauma around it, the clover patch snuggles the trunk of a grandfather elm tree where the pieces of craggy bark that have sloughed off moldering into compost give the plants an advantage.


The ancient tree's bark is rough and weather beaten. Deep fissures lace its time-bent trunk. Even the tiniest breeze causes its aged limbs to creak and protest. Sugar sniffs the relic bark. I gaze out over the open field of orangeness and ponder how much greener and lusher it would be had it the sense to associate with the ancient elm tree.


Perhaps we all would be better off if we associated with our elders more, learned from the richness of their lives. I was lucky to have a wonderful Grandmother who enriched my understanding of life. I only hope I can pass that along to my grandbabies.

Last Day

I do not go on campus today. I attend church at Community of the Savior, where there is talk about the conference and reports of some of the sessions. I am not worried that I will miss out because I know every presentation was recorded, and will be made available afterwards. (I have an inside track since I know the Media Services guys who have been running around to the max).

My part is to pray that everyone gets home safely and that much good will come from the work done this week. And maybe there will be some clean up after everyone has left. At very least, no more parking in the far lot. Though I have to say, several times I was given a ride by one of the golf carts that were circulating campus for the benefit of conference attendees. Though I was not an attendee, I accepted the offers.

Invariably, even though I had my name tag on, the driver would ask me where I was from. When I told them that I work in the library, they would turn around and take a good look at me and say, "really?!" After all, I have only been here 4 years. I can't expect people who never come in the library to know who I am! And that's OK. Even if they never remember meeting me afterwards. And maybe, having met someone from the library, they might feel like poking their head in the door someday, just to check things out.

Full Swing

I asked to work the Saturday of conference. I know many of my colleagues are long time of the Free Methodist denomination and would want the opportunity to attend the sessions. I am less invested in that, so it makes sense for me to hold down the fort so they can participate. In fact, one of my colleagues is an actual delegate. Pretty impressive.

So here I am at the desk again, watching the goings on from the safety of inside. By 5 o'clock, I was happy to see people gathering on the library patio for the dedication of the founder's garden. There were tables with white cloths dotting the lawn, a serving tent with foods most delectable, a jazz combo, and speaker's podium, and afterwards, fireworks! In all, a wonderful day. And I got a lot done to boot. Tomorrow is the final day. After the morning church service, people will be leaving us. In all, though I don't know the particulars, it seems as if the conference has gone well with few if any incidents. Nice job.

Skinny Day

Today I am on reference all day. We have a lot of people out. There are only 3 of us in the building in fact. And we are not closing at 3:30 like normal because the conference is still going full blast. Ah, well. Some days are like that. People have covered for me most kindly, and I am happy to repay the favor by being here today.

Not that we are particularly busy, mind you. Yes, there are people coming into the building, but mostly to use the facilities or the internet or eat in the cafe which opened for the conference. In fact, since I don't have time to go home for lunch, and since the invalid is home today nursing his wounds, I am happy to be able to get my own lunch at the cafe and not have to leave the building even for a few minutes to pick up a sandwich somewhere.

I am delighted to see people heading upstairs to take in the archive display. Most of our visitors have been mindful of the library environment. There have been a few people from other cultures who didn't quite get it and spoke in outdoor voices as if this were a sports event. But for the most part, we were able to provide quiet space for the handful of students trying to get work done. How amazing to see people from so many different cultures gathered together and getting along so well.

I must admit though, I was a bit jealous of one gentleman from Africa. His outfit was gorgeous. I wonder where a person could go to buy such elegant attire!

The Accident

Poor Drew. He is biking 4 miles each way every day to attend driver's ed. We got a new bike so he could get there on his own without my having to leave work mid morning and mid afternoon. He is OK with the idea since the soccer coach is expecting them to run 2 miles a day anyway.


Yesterday, after a few weeks of successful biking, he had a problem. He was standing up to pedal and the bike suddenly without warning and for no apparent reason changed gears. Drew slipped off the pedal and went flying head over heels onto the shoulder of the road.


Thank goodness he had his helmet on and no cars were coming. The bike was a bit banged up but still ridable. He collected himself and despite bad and bleeding scrapes on his arm and leg, managed to get to class and home afterwards.


I have to say that one of my least favorite experiences is to come home to an injured child. He was sitting in the blue recliner somewhat in a state of shock, bandages everywhere and obviously hurting. I listened to his tale of woe and checked the bandages. We will definitely need more first aid supplies. He is a bit too old for me to kiss his pain away, but I sympathize with his agony.


Ruefully he tells me that perhaps he is learning not to be in such a rush, to slow down a little and be more careful. I smile. Perhaps he will. Meanwhile, we tie the bike to the car rack and head back to the shop to get it fixed. I guess I will be driving my poor invalid to class for awhile.

Conference!

Today is the day. The first official day of the conference. We are asked to park at the other end of Orchard Street in the church parking lot to free up spaces for our guests. Normally, we have seasons where parking in the small library lot becomes an issue - especially during the semester when there is bad weather. Everyone and their brother thinks they should park here, when in fact (although there are no signs to indicate it) the only people who are supposed to park here are library employees, the dorm RA and visitors.

Really what we need is a parking garage with multiple levels. Of course, that would cost a pretty penny, so it won't happen. But eventually, they plan to clear some space for more parking lots. Meanwhile, for the conference, we park at the other end of campus and walk. Fortunately, it is not too hot out. I dutifully park where we are asked to park and begin the trek to the library.

I see people I do not normally see, also parking there and walking. This is an unexpected bonus. I dawdle a bit to chat, like hanging over a fence to touch base with my neighbors. We are all loaded down with briefcases and lunches and odds and ends. None of us have responsibilities for the conference, nor are we teaching classes, so we linger in the pleasant sun, delaying being inside on so nice a day.

Here and there we see groups of visitors eagerly heading for some place or another. There are signs all about, directing and informing, and I am confident that the packets have campus maps. We feel no particular need to make ourselves available to assist. Its nice to catch up on what is happening in other areas. What a lovely way to begin a day.

Gentle Beginning

Today the planners and board member types are on campus. It gives you a little tingle of excitement. Things are beginning to happen. You see a handful of wanderers headed toward the cultural life center or the dining hall or the athletic center. Yes, this event that we have been hearing about for so long is actually going to happen.

We ease into it like a swimmer eases into the coldness of the water, holding our breath and hoping everything is in place. We finally see a program book - pages and pages of events to unfold. Beneath the calm surface, much is happening. I pray for the people who have been planning and preparing, that they will have a peace and that all the details have been thought of and planned for.

Tomorrow, it will erupt. Hang on to your hats. I think we are about to have lift off.

Gearing Up

For the first time, the Free Methodist Annual Conference will be held at Roberts Wesleyan College. It is their sesquicentennial - what better time to be where their founder B. T. Roberts invested so much time and work. We have been preparing happily. I say we. I really mean certain people in the organization have been working to spruce up the place and prepare for the arrival of 1500 people who will stay on campus, plus another 1000 or so who will commute in during the day.

The grounds look spectacular - even more than usual. The buildings have been gone over to make sure we are putting our best foot forward. Even VAC got a temporary air conditioning unit installed - a refrigerated truck running outside and pumping cold air into the gymnasium. Clever.

Here in the Library we were able to hire an assistant to help our archivist go through materials and put up a stellar display which will remain available through homecoming this year at least. I even brought in my sister's dress form to display a beautiful and old dress (and tiny! - she must have been a size 0 or less).

Perhaps we should host a conference more often. It has been a refreshing breath of delight to spiffy up and see what all we have that we tucked away. Of course, the people who have been out there painting scrubbing and weeding probably don't agree!

Goodbye Hugs

Kiel stands in the living room, checking to make sure he has everything he needs. He is anxious to get on the road, not just to North Carolina, but to his new adventure. He has a job interview and is excited to begin the next phase of his journey. This will be challenging, since all the jobs he has worked have been by invitation. He has never had to seek employment. It is a new experience and he is figuring it out, learning as he goes.

He thought a great deal about moving. There are ever so many more opportunities in that area for jobs, and the cost of living is easier on a new couple trying to get started. It is amazing how many people in this area have graduate degrees. In North Carolina, grad degrees are the exception, not the rule. So competition will be less fierce. His qualifications may go further.

Besides, it will give them a chance to work together without family nearby to intervene at inconvenient times. Nothing like having to do it on your own that helps you learn how to do it. Not to say that a helping hand here and there isn't welcome.

He nervously hugs me, torn between needing to leave and being a bit afraid of venturing out. I know the feeling. Its tough to be the one everyone else is counting on. But he will do fine. I wish I could help, but the best help is to stand back and encourage him to go. If I had a lot of money, I could stake him until he gets up and running. But I don't have that luxury. I can pray and entrust him to God's all sufficient care.

And that is what I do. All day as I go about my work, he is on my heart and I lift him up in prayer as he is driving. Give him wisdom, safety, protection, connections, favor, the right job as soon as possible, and guidance. Before I hardly have time to think, he is calling me to tell me that he is there safe and sound. Thank the Lord. A good beginning. Now the real work starts.

A Shower!

Kiel and Andrea's wedding date is in September. That sounds like a long way off, but in reality, it can be measured in weeks. Her maid of honor lives out of state, but one of the bridesmaids decided to throw Andrea a shower. I haven't been to a bridal shower in eons. Andrea asked that I be invited since it is unlikely that our side of the family, also scattered all over the place, will give her a shower. How thoughtful.

I am a little nervous since I think I will not know anyone there. I Google directions to the place, and identify the destination by the number of cars parked all around. They have set up on the back deck, complete with awning to shade us from the hot sun. Andrea looks beautiful in a white day dress. She will be a beautiful bride too.

We chat and play games. We each get a little ring, and if we say the words "bride" "groom" "wedding" or "ring" whoever catches us can take our ring away. The object is to get the most number of rings. I lose mine right away and don't have to think about it again. We also fill out a checklist of what is in our purse, getting points for each kind of thing. The person with the most points wins. I only have a tiny purse, not being a big fan of carrying purses at all, so I don't register on that chart either.

The best part was watching Andrea open her presents. What nice gifts she got. She is registered at Target and J C Penneys. The funny story was, one woman bought a pink flamingo shower curtain that was on their list. After she got home, she thought she must have read it wrong, or looked at the wrong list. Who would want a pink flamingo shower curtain. So she took it back.

But it was on the list - compliments of Kiel who is a bit zany and out there in his taste. Too funny. She got them a gift card instead, so I suppose he shall have his flamingos. It was a lovely shower. She kept her bows on a plate to use for the rehearsal and didn't break too many ribbons (indicating how many children she may have), and despite the heat, we all had a great time.

I ought to shower more often I suppose, but I am running out of eligible sons.

Sugar and the Deer

Seven deer, including 2 spotted babies, stood about on the side lawn munching grass. Sugar does not see them right off, and Drew, who is walking her, decides to see how close he can get to the deer.


With only a few feet between him and one of the mothers, Drew hears Sugar begin to growl. The mother deer swings around and confronts them, nostrils flaring. Drew immediately backs away dragging Sugar to a safer location. Why didn't the deer just disappear into the woods? he wondered.


You have to understand the relationship between a mother and child, I think to myself. Don't ever put a child at risk when Mom is nearby. She will protect. After all, you don't spend 20 hours in labor and lose two years of sleep and give them all your love just to see some silly thing inadvertently take them out.


Drew listens, then says it still would have made more sense and been easier if she had just run away. Hum. He is still very young. Someday, when he is a parent, he will get it.

Mama Deer

5 am. I glance out of the window into the morning stillness. There, grazing on the front lawn are a mother deer and her baby covered with huge white spots screaming loudly in the faint light. They nibble and nuzzle the browned earth, seeking in vain for some tender morsel of grass among the dead brown tinder.

Suddenly, a motorcycle roars by on Lyell Avenue, and the Mother jumps to a dead run in the direction of the woods. The fawn flips its little tail and takes off after her, crashing into the leafy brush hot on her mama's hooves.

The ensuing silence is heavy, not a leaf stirring, no evidence left of their presence just moments before. One would never know that a mother deer had taken her baby for an early morning breakfast just feet from a human stronghold. All that remains is a bit of dust stirred by the pounding escape of two innocents.

What an amazing way to begin a new day.

Port Flush

Can you believe I am scheduled for a port flush already? It doesn't seem like it has been 6 weeks since my chemo, but it has. On another level, it seems like a year has gone by. I swing into the infusion center, filled with joy. How blessed am I to be working and relatively healthy! How wonderful that the routines and conventionalities of the world of this clinic seem foreign and strange to me now. This is good!

The faces are the same, and I smile and chat with a freedom that feels good. Once again, I remark that it takes way longer to set up for a flush than it takes to do a flush. And sigh with relief when that wonderful tinge of red makes its debut in the tube. Yeah. All is well and all is well. See ya! (yes, in another 6 weeks for chemo, but we won't mention that today).

Whew!

I am happy that I don't have to be to work early to open. Seems it requires a great deal of rest to rest up from resting! I am glad the comps and orals are over and I am home. Now to get back into a routine of some sort. Thank goodness it is summer and the Library is not hopping.

I am also glad to have time to reconnect with everyone, catch up on what has been happening in their lives. Really, between email and chatting, the day disappears before I get anything constructive done other than make the list of what I need to do. But that's OK. Tomorrow I can roll up my sleeves and jump back in. Thank God for Grace.

Driving Home

I am sad to say farewell to my friends and glad that I had an extra day with them since the Library is closed on the 4th of July, even though there are classes in session. I miss Drew and Kiel, and I am anxious to finish the corrections on my dissertation and get that submitted. Not that I want to jump back into busyness, but I can't stay detached for too long - rent comes due whether I am working or not!

On the drive out, I was surrounded by so many tractor trailer trucks that I thought for sure our economy must be thriving. I start early, hoping to avoid as much traffic as possible. I will still end up in Buffalo at the 5 o'clock rush hour. I gingerly turn Tom on and hope for the best. As I remembered from last year, traffic is sparse. I count progress by how many states I have left behind, and soon find myself out of Michigan and into Indiana, then quickly into Ohio, the longest state in the Union according to the boys. Even at noon the traffic is not heavy. I don't even encounter much construction delay.

The closer I get to home, the faster I seem to drive. Only cruise control stands between me and a ticket as I burn up the pavement flying home. I am delighted that I will be there in plenty of time to return the rental car and unpack before my energy runs out. Drew calls me when I reach Pennsylvania. I am happy to be only a few hours away. We make dinner plans. Kiel is at Andrea's enjoying swimming and a cookout.

One last little bobble with Tom. For some reason he hates Buffalo and is constantly trying to redirect me from the Thruway to the slow and frustrating old route that still parallels the major 4 lane. But I am wise to his machinations, and stick to my guns. Silly techno dumbhead. Quick as a wink I am hugging a frantic wild Sugar who has missed me and moped about in my absence. She licks me and jumps all over, wriggling with delight that I have not abandoned her.

I smile, then walk out the door to return the car and get dinner. Not to fear, faithful puppy. I will return. And this time, before nightfall!

Sunday Rest

How wonderful to see friends after a year apart. We keep in touch via email, but that doesn't come close to our camaraderie in person. They have been traveling all over the world and I am delighted to hear them chat about France and other countries where they have discovered new friends.

Yesterday we wandered about at the most robust farmer's market - they had everything and then some! We explored a delightful antique store seeking buttons for making cards, took in the lakeshore castles both by land and by water, and bought some flowers at a nursery. Today, we attend an outdoor church service, then have an amazing repast at a local bakery restaurant. Eggs Benedict a la excellence.

We return to the condo and sit lazily on the deck watching boats go by, children play, and people water skiing and tubing in the cool lake. What a restful day. We chat about this that and the other thing, catching up, laughing, enjoying each others' company. Even Zoe, her royal highness the dog, gets into the act.

How far removed from the academic world of comps and orals, concerts and libraries, striving to accomplish something. So much better to take a cruise on the Lake with Cap'n Bob, to feel the refreshing spray of water coming up over the bow (and be grateful I am not sitting on the front deck being drenched everytime we hit a boat wake or a swell).

These are the important things - just enjoying life with others. Sitting back and watching the gorgeous hues of pink and purple as the sun rotates toward the west, painting a trail of beauty in its wake. Watching the parent birds come and go, feeding their babies in their nest under the eaves. Enjoying the new vines twining about the deck rails, tendrils stretching in the spacious new abode. Playing a board game, sipping a cool drink, being glad I am not out there tubing in the chill of evening.

This is what God created the world for. Enjoyment. All his imaginative splendor at our disposal. My heart wells with gratitude that God didn't limit our world to black and white in the interest of not overwhelming us. Still, I can't help thinking that greater and more wonderful things await in heaven, things we just couldn't possibly absorb yet. We shall see.

Meanwhile, off to bed for sweet deep sleep after a most relaxing day.

Visiting Friends

I leave the campus as soon as I am done with my orals. I climb into the gigantic rental SUV and head to Mequon to gas up and grab lunch. Then I head south. I know it is the 4th of July weekend, but I am hoping that I am early enough to avoid the major traffic. I am not even a half hour away when Tom-Tom informs me that there are traffic delays ahead. At least 2 hours worth. Should he reroute me? I say yes.

I find myself on the older lakeshore 4 lane rather than the express way. I am moving at about 50 mph. Once again Tom intervenes with a report that there are delays ahead, meaning that I won't arrive at my destination until after midnight. What??? This is a 4 hour drive. It is 2 pm. Surely the traffic can't be that bad. I accept his reroute. And the next one. And the next one. I find myself driving through little Chicago suburbs with no idea at all where I am or where I am going or how long I will be. I stop at a gas station to fill up again.

Things go from bad to worse. I am crawling along at about 10 mph, stopping at so many red lights I am convinced I will never find my way out of the city. I try to get Tom to take me back to the expressway. Even if it is a parking lot, at least I know where I am going! Tom flakes in and out, losing signal, taking so much time to come back online that I miss turns. I am beside myself. The final straw comes when I find myself literally in downtown Chicago - Main Street where Saks and all the upscale stores - are smack dab in the middle of rush hour traffic.

I throw Tom in the back and watch for signs to the expressway. I will fix this mess myself. There is construction, taxis, buses, detours, rerouting, pedestrians, traffic cops and a million other crazy things. I see the sign I need. It has taken me almost an hour to drive about 5 blocks. I have escaped numerous accidents by grace. I wedge my car into the proper lane, praying that the detour signs won't prevent me from getting back on track. Fortunately, when I finally get where I need to be, I can see that the construction is just past the entrance ramp. It takes forever to get to the ramp, but at long last, I am there and though travel is slow, 40 mph is way better than the half mile per hour I had been doing.

I replug Tom, and the first thing he said was "Traffic delay ahead. Reroute?" I shout a resounding "NO!", but Tom won't listen. He keeps trying to direct me off the expressway. I stand my ground. As I pass every single exit, he would insist that I take the next one. I finally turn him off and reboot. Suddenly he is on board with the expressway. I had lost much time. And according to the radio, the expressway behind me was indeed a parking lot. Maybe Tom did get me through. But I have to say, I sure don't want to repeat that scenario! Now I remember why I always stayed on campus on Friday and left at the crack of dawn on Saturday. I finally manage to arrive at my friends' place about 8 or 9 at night, and fall into welcoming arms. Yeah! Let's not do that again anytime soon.

The Oral Exam

Three serious faculty people face me across the massive wooden table. I am in the "hot seat." I have studied up for the areas where I know I didn't do as much as needed on the written exam. I hope I am ready.

First round. I do answer his questions to his satisfaction. Whew! We have a pleasant conversation. I am more at ease.

Second round. More questions, covering several areas. I am able to answer them to her satisfaction though I stumble a bit trying to think of a score example. I finally latch onto one that works. Whew! Still OK.

Third round. We clear up a couple of little things, its going well. Then the killer question. Naming Luther's hymns for the parts of the Ordinary in the Mass. Yikes. I gulp. I draw a blank. I stumble around a bit. I have to finally admit that I just don't know. I see myself falling down in flaming defeat. Oh, no. I did look at this, but the names of the hymns just don't seem to match the use in the service. I can't bring it back no matter how hard I try to visualize the paper I studied from.

They ask me to step from the room to deliberate. I move down the hall, staring unseeing out a window. Time ticks by. More time. I am getting worried. I may fail because of the hymn question. I am truly concerned. At long last, they call me back. A smile breaks out and I am given the thumbs up! I am so relieved. We shake hands all around. And I determine to study up on Luther's hymns. Really. Even if I'm not a Lutheran.

All that remains before I get my diploma is to finish the dissertation corrections and get that on deposit. It has been a long, long road. I am almost there.