The Value of a Moment

It's Memorial Day 2017, three years ago over Memorial weekend was the last weekend our family was together on the farm we grew up on. Nearly everyone was there and we had a wonderful over night camp out filled with games and a camp fire. There was a lot of laughter, joking, smack talk and a few tears as well. My dad died just a few days later.

Today is one of those days i wish i could sit down and have a long talk with him.

A lot has changed since then. 

I have gained a grandson, Collin. 

 and a daughter-in-law, Jennyfer.

Life goes on..it changes.

And we learn to live with the changes, be happy now, let go and trust that God will always take care. 

I believe He will.

Can We Live till We Die?

It has been said that we reap what we sow. Is this true? Aren't we imperfect beings, trying to do the best we can, and yet we fall short so often. Why is this? Is this the natural man, to make mistakes? And when we make these mistakes, what do we do with them? Do we learn from them, blame others, become cynical? I often wonder about how life comes full circle. We live in a magnificent world, full of awe and wonder..and how easy it is to let it pass us by when we are so inundated with the fullness of life.

Today I sit and watch my boyfriend with his father. I am loving him all the more as he so tenderly but firmly does physical therapy with his father after knee surgery. We flew to Phoenix during an especially busy time in our lives because after all, there is nothing more important, worthwhile and fulfilling than family.

  

How beautiful is the providence, that as children we have the opportunity to care for our parents in much the same way as our parents cared for us.

Kevin with his dad, Tom getting his knee back in shape

How tender a moment when father and son once again play ball

I think of how awesome God is, in all His majesty, power and tenderness to supply His children with this planet, surrounded in understanding for our weaknesses and giving us all we need, even when we don’t think so. I do believe, as hard is at may seem at times, things are as they should be, for our own good.

Three weeks ago today my father, who has terminal cancer got an infection that nearly took his life. His will to live, his pure stamina and strength after having fought stage 4 cancer for the past three and a half years has been miraculous and a blessing. 

The morning after a frightful night

My father battled back after a night of hovering between life and death, only to rise the next morning, sitting up in the ICU unit, laughing and teasing in his usual manner. His comment to me this last week as he is recovering in Assisted Care was, "I'm going to live until I die." This can be interpreted differently, what Dad's meaning is, he WILL LIVE, choosing to enjoy, never to give up,  making sure that the fields that he has planted will be harvested. God chooses when we depart from this life. We choose what we sow and, well, you know the rest of the story..

Enjoy The View

I grew up on a farm. I don't believe until the last two weeks I have ever appreciated or even comprehended the work of a farmer, the iron will of a farmer, the tenacity of a farmer...and the sheer exhaustion that a farmer endures year after year after year.

I suppose some years are better than others for a farmer, not much different than how life is better some years more than others. When true understanding takes place, there is pain that is just part of the road. When that pain seeps into every sinew of our mind, body and soul, well, then it is enlightening. Pain is a teacher. Necessary at times, and also unnecessary at times.

On our farm there was a mile country road from our house straight West to the church. It was a dirt road when I was a little girl, then it was paved, and then every few years they would gravel it. When I was little I loved walking down "the lane" (that's what we called it). My favorite time of year was just before harvest, the corn stalks were so tall on both sides of the lane.  It was a farmer's daughters enchanted forrest, and I loved it! It is hard to estimate how many times my family and I walked up and down that lane, together or separately, the simple walks each time brought a new experience.

A canal ran diagonally thru the lane and although I was told not to play in the canal, we (meaning my friends, cousins and my brother), would do it anyway. What great memories we have of that slimy canal, tubing, water skiing (motorcycle acting as boat), and swimming along with the slow current.

My parents biggest fear would be that one of us kids would fall in the canal and drown. Drowning was always the one death I feared more than all others, but I was a pretty good swimmer and often times my brother was around. I always knew if I got into a tight spot he would save me. I also knew he would get in more trouble for what ever mischief we were causing from my dad, the iron-man farmer.

I am now 50 years old and if I wrote 5 chapters of my life it would go something like this:

Chapter 1: I skipped down the lane. I fell in the canal. It wasn't my fault, I didn't even see it there. I got out.

Chapter 2: I ran down the lane. I saw the canal and fell in it anyway. It wasn't my fault. I got out.

Chapter 3: I raced down the lane, oblivious to the beauties around me. I saw the canal, fell in. It was my fault. I got out. I didn't even realize someone was there to help me.

Chapter 4: I walked down the lane, seeing some of the beauties around me, but I did not appreciate them. I saw the canal; and I went around it. I didn't realize the wisdom of what looking into the canal without falling in would bring me.

Chapter 5: I haven't walked down the lane yet, and in fact, rather than walking down the lane at all I would rather fly high up above, take it all in, that sacred land I grew up on, and just enjoy the view!

Cancer, SDB's, and HELL Part I

Dad and Rondy Mom2 at Subway after Whole Health Treatment before Chemo started

Last November I was reeling with Headaches, Homework and Cancer. This year there is still homework, some headaches mixed with backaches, but no cancer! Seriously, my Dad, the tough yet humble old farmer that he is; brilliant, stubborn, cocky, kind, humorous, serious, take charge, loving man promised a miracle...and He, meaning the Lord, delivered. Esophageal cancer gone.

Dad and my sis Sherry...tender.

I must admit I was fearful and lacked faith. However my parents have provided my sister and me with a level of stability that I suppose comes with many "dysfunctional loving families." I honor and admire my parents for all they stand for, endured and overcame throughout their lives. All 3 of them have great integrity and character born from their trials in life. 


 
 I received an email and information about lung cancer/mesothelioma from a reader back in August and he asked me if I would spread the word about lung cancer. Lung cancer is the second-most diagnosed cancer in both men and women. This disease is responsible for more than one-fourth of all cancer deaths that occur in the United States each year.

While the victims used to be overwhelmingly men, that gap is closing, says the ACS. Cigarette smoking remains the major reason for the disease, but environmental factors, exposure to second-hand smoke, and exposure to asbestos or radon are also responsible for many cases of this aggressive cancer.

Read more: http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/#ixzz1eLrEz8v7

As it goes in life we generally are not so interested in something unless it touches us personally. I remember as a young girl the fear of losing my beloved Grandma and Grandpa King because they smoked; I remember hearing that smoking would "kill you." In fact lung cancer did kill my Grandma and my Aunt Barbara, both in their 60's. My beautiful mother cared for these women whom she loved to the core to the day they died, loving them unconditionally. Yes, smoking kills and we have developed in our country an abhorrence for smoking, it has become socially unpopular. I have compassion for this enslaving addiction that kills. Those who have been imprisoned with addiction only know how it can rule your life and the further social judgments make it more painful. There are many self destructive things we do that kill or hurt us, some not as obvious as smoking. 

My oldest son turned to smoking at 16 years old to "calm his nerves." He kept it hidden from his friends; therefore it is obvious he was not doing  it because of social pressure. The cigarettes were a gateway to a 7 year path of drugs and alcohol, of which ended in a year long battle with methadone, a pseudo detox. The real detox was 2 weeks of HELL and another 6 months of physical withdrawal (methadone stays in the body for months) and mental/emotional mind over matter still to this day. He has been drug free coming up on 6 years.

Cancer, self destructive behaviors, self medicating, all touch our lives either directly or indirectly at some time. Knowledge and awareness can be the best defense and offense. 

I wish you the best in your journey...

Weeds & Basics of Life

These are desperate-low-budget sugar-craving-last-resort cookies. I grew up on them, and they are great milk-dunkers; and you can fix them in a flash. I may polish off the whole plate...and if i do I won't punish myself like i have in days gone by.

I am now better at recognizing good guilt--knowing you can do better for yourself, i.e., recognizing your SDB's (self destructive behavior), and bad guilt--holding yourself to some unattainable expectation. It certainly is easy to get lost in the pursuit of happiness substitutes. I suppose we are all working on the same things, to feel good, or better than...(whatever we measure something against)???

Regrets? Sure I have a few. I seem to be sitting right smack dab in the middle of raised children and witnessing my parents getting older, even my invincible dad getting  cancer. It makes you think a bit. When I talk to Dad now it's open dialogue, nothing is held back, everything is precious, serious talks, laughter and an occasional tear or two. We usually stick to laughter, oh the laughter and teasing, it's the best medicine...

I don't believe anyone ever woke up one day and said "today is the day I'm determined to do something I'm going to regret!" It seems stupid, yet we punish, ruminate, and try to find some type of explanation or blame for dumb or hurtful things that are in the past.

My awareness with each year hopefully improves? These are the life lessons...and we either get it or we don't.

Happiness becomes a choice, and the journey isn't over till it's over. Life lessons come  full circle and are always  poignant when willing to learn.

One of my favorite movies is about C.S. Lewis' life, called Shadowlands. He profoundly quoted, "pain is part of the deal."  Pain teaches us to embrace each relationship and its special meaning in our lives.

No regrets... Each day is a blessing, of beautiful wildflowers 

and weeds. 

If we look we can find plenty of beauty in weeds too.

Pigtails

Yesterday I said to Zion, "the best things in life are free...or a buck ninety-nine." I was referring to my recent purchased of Chips Ahoy cookies that i got at the bargain price of $1.99.

I just want to play soccer Mom.

I like simple things, cookies, pigtails and my Dad. This morning on the drive to the farm to see my Dad I called Mom and wished her a "Happy Father's Day." I thanked her for all the times she had brought out power tools to help me hang or fix things, she's a handy woman. She laughed and asked, "well did you wish your Dad, Happy Mother's Day, on Mother's Day?" I said, "no, but I should have because he put my hair in the best pigtails in grade school!" We had a great laugh because i loved how my Dad's fingers were the right size for nice ringlets; Mom's fingers were too small. Dad's hands are massive and he got pretty good at putting a hair pin in too.

One of our Vegas Trips

Today as I ate breakfast in the same place i grew up in, looking out the same window at the farm, circumstances in our lives have changed; Rondy, Mom #2 sat to my left, Sherry and Dave my brother and sister were not there and I have raised my 3 boys. It was quiet yet peaceful, the cows have been replaced by horses and there is beauty all around because there is still love in that little old home on the farm. Lives change but love is eternal...and life is eternal...all is well.

After storms God sends Rainbows

This Road Less Traveled

We cannot or should not ever quantify or compare grief. This journey our family is on at this time is a road less traveled. Losing a loved one is painful. Watching a loved one suffer is agonizing. My beautiful father whom i have adored and learned many great life lessons from is surgically having a line inserted into his chest today to begin chemo treatments for his esophageal cancer next week. He was diagnosed last November and has been treating it holistically and doing so well. Unfortunately as of late he has been unable to get much food down including liquids which the scope he had earlier this week revealed the tumor has progressed.

Given two options, a feeding tube to the stomach for nutrition or chemo to possibly shrink the tumor, was the choices given. Dad's a pragmatic man said, "Well, let's go for the chemo." I'm sure he is hoping to be able to sink his teeth into a big cheeseburger soon. He has followed a strict diet, not a speck of white flour or sugar since his cancer diagnosis, and he has enjoyed blended vegetable shakes by the dozens. Rondy my mom#2 has taken the best of care and in many respects he is in better health today than he was four months ago. Yet cancer is one of those invasions that destroy good cells. These malignant cells are blocking off the passage way for food and sometimes even liquids for my dad.

None of us invite death. Losing my brother Dave so instantly was tragic and our family has never been the same. Yet death is the one sure thing we all can count on, so coping skills and moving on and up is part of our life's journey. Reading the book "Life Lessons" was a great help to me.




I recommend it whether you have lost a loved one or not.

I have no doubt that each of you will one day be on a road you never expected to be on...you are and can be stronger than you think. Reach out. Believe in the Power of Love and that God does have each of us in His care...Always...

Cancer-an East or West Choice

Culture or the socially constructed ideas and attitudes that we adopt in our Western society is interesting. It's also humorous at times...my dad is also quite humorous to me. He loves the microphone...karaoke...Western music...OH I hated Eddy Arnold growing up! Yet ,the more I understand the more I accept. 

My dad at his 70th surprise Birthday party, graciously thanking everyone.

It was less than three months ago when I received news my dad has esophageal cancer that had spread to his lymph nodes and other organs which had deemed him in the dreaded "stage 4" realm. The Western medicine protocol was to begin immediate doses of chemotherapy. Chemotherapy works by killing fast-growing cancer cells. Unfortunately, chemotherapy drugs can't always tell the difference between cancer cells and fast-growing healthy cells, including red and white blood cells. As a result, one of the most serious potential side effects of many types of chemotherapy drugs is a low white blood cell count. White blood cells are responsible for fighting infection.

When I tried to educate myself a little more about what "chemo" really is, this is what I learned: the chemicals that are used, fit into four categories--

1. Alkylating agents 2. Vinca alkaloids 3. Cytotoxic antibiotics 4. Anti-metabolites.

ALKYLATING AGENTS are drugs that work by directly attacking the DNA of a cell. These drugs can work at any time of the cell cycle, but are most effective during DNA synthesis.

NITROSOUREAS are similar to alkylating agents, and work by inhibiting the changes necessary for DNA repair. A very important feature of this class of drugs is that they can cross the blood-brain barrier which makes them very useful for treating brain tumors.

ANTIMETABOLITES block cell growth by interfering with DNA synthesis. These drugs work by mimicking a substance involved in DNA synthesis, inhibiting production of an acid necessary for DNA to be synthesized.

ANTITUMOR ANTIBIOTICS work by binding with DNA to prevent RNA synthesis. These also prevent cell growth by preventing DNA replication. Antitumor antibiotics prevent the DNA from reattaching itself together which causes the cell to die.

And when researching the overall survival rates no matter where I looked, after being treated by chemo the outlook was not promising at an average of 2-5%. Here is one of those tables:


The following table was published in the journal Clinical Oncology in December 2004.  The results of this study were astonishing, showing that chemotherapy has an average 5-year survival success rate of just over 2 percent for ALL cancers! http://fiocco59.altervista.org/ALLEGATI/MORGAN.PDF


My dad was hooked up, ready to go, and the appointment was made to begin chemotherapy treatment. We celebrated Christmas at Dad's house, he was in good spirits, but we all had our battle gloves on, for we all knew the road ahead was not easy. And then the change of plans...he would attack cancer from the opposite side of the world!

Dad, Grandma Allen, at the Christmas Party 

The Eastern methods of working with the body, rather than killing the cancerous cells and many others along with it---he feeds his body with an abundance of everything that is good and positive and rid it of all that is toxic and allow dad's body to kill the cancerous cells and enjoy his quality of life THROUGH the process. Quackery? Huh? or is it cultural bias?




I'm not really an expert in any of it. This is my first real close experience with cancer. But here are some observations that I find peculiar in our socially constructed paradigms...

There is something called "taken for granted knowledge," that isn't knowledge at all.

Sensationalism and Negativity SELLs...

We each pursue happiness in our own way, and that diversity is a great thing~


I am grateful for a father and my mom#2, Rondy who have so bravely made a choice to follow what makes sense to them. I am saddened when there is judgment by those who think that my dad has not chosen the "right" path by refusing chemo. I am further amazed when one goes against the NORM how there is less attention given than if one chooses the traditions of the culture.

Dad and Rondy leaving one of the treatment rooms, with happy faces!

I find it fascinating that another cancer patient is considered a "public figure" because they have taken their treatment public and the sentiments are publicized and furthermore the Dr. is celebrated for his heroic efforts to save her life. I certainly have no ill towards her and I wish her all the best. I only wonder why naturopathic doctors such as Larry Womack has spent his life researching and teaching people about their bodies to empower people further and why he is criticized by the medical profession? It seems as though building a bridge between Western and Eastern medicine would be of great benefit for the patients of many diseases.

It seems to me we put a great deal into labels and words...

which is ok, I love words...

And this would be one of my top PiCks of Doctor's...East or West!

And my DAD, well I would only choose HIM!

Dudes have Emo Too

Gary, and his 3 children that he raised as a single parent.

A very special man, a brother-in-law to me passed away suddenly last Thursday evening. Gary had a way with words and in fact had published two books. His first was titled, “Used Man.”  He was a great example of… “Like me as I am, and if you don’t, I don’t give a rats ass.” Wow, I love you Gary!

After writing “Thoughts in a box” I started to think about the difficulty culture has put upon men in expressing their emotions. Our society has pigeonholed and labeled our boys from inside the womb. Their toughness has been expected, and the labeling has stifled the idea that men don’t have, can’t have, or display emotion. What? Why? How can that be possible? Men are spiritual/emotional/human beings every bit as much as a woman! The last time I checked on the emo of the men in my life, when they were being REAL, these were the most beautiful, endearing, wonderful, and attractive times I have spent with them. Emo does not always come out so easily; again, we have conditioned one another that this is not the way it is “supposed to be.” Well, times change, we don’t have to act tough to be tough.  The most rigid and defensive individuals are usually the most insecure (thanks Dr. D. for helping me to see this)!

So here is the challenge, how do men in our culture feel safe and masculine and still know that emotion is not just acceptable but a beautiful thing to show? I don’t really expect them to write down their epiphanies on pretty paper and put them in a decorative box!

Like any cultural change it takes time, knowledge and understanding and I think we are moving in that direction in some ways and in others we may be moving far from it. Which way is your family moving in?

Dad on his last homeopathic treatment for the day.

As I have watched the change and growth in my boys over the years from the teens and now into their 20’s and T.J. is now 30, I see great strides of improvement. I attribute much of this due to the challenges that we have gone through and triumphed over together. I am seeing an outpouring of uninhibited love and expressed emotion with Kelly and his brother’s as they say farewell to their first sibling to pass away. And I have seen a delightful positive outpouring of expression to and from my father in our family as cancer has invaded his body. Panic began to overtake all of our thoughts when we first received the news of my dad's cancer. We felt an  an urgency of celebrating life and love… yet lest we forget, we do not and cannot ever know when our very special Dudes can be called home…

Christmas Traditions and Change

Mom and Me at Cemetary

Some traditions live on…and some change. After Dave died we would gather around his grave on Christmas Eve and sing Christmas songs, shed tears, share stories, laugh through our tears and pray. That tradition changed a few years ago when the family got bigger and older.  Each of us still remember Dave through the holidays in our own way. I dropped off my wreath this year and was delighted to see he had been visited by many already. He is not one who is easily forgotten. He comes by a stature of command naturally through my dad’s lineage, (6 ft. 4, 230 lb.) so playing Santa was a natural and rather humorous affair for the adults who got to witness the event.

Back in the “olden days” when I was a kid there was no Santa costume and Grandma Allen bought red and white tissue paper for the children and we would create Santa on my dad which was fun, albeit certainly no mystique in the legend of Santa. Then one year investment in the whole Santa costume get up was made and the delight of Christmas parties was never the same! Year after year Dad plowed his body into that hot costume and HO-Ho'd his way with bells and a bound into all the family parties and a few others. I’m not sure who had more fun, the kids or Santa?!

Dave as Santa holding Richard

Dave watched Dad pour on the Santa charm and took over in his twenties. I’m not sure if the kids were smarter in the 80’s or if we were just so naive, but those kids were on to Santa Dave like nobodies business. Nevertheless it didn’t spoil any of the fun. Dave could lead our musically deficient family through a string of Christmas carols, and you better believe Dave never missed a word. Mom taught us all the classics.

From left to right:my Dad, Sherry (wanting to be Santa!), Santa Richard

In all honesty I don’t remember if Dad picked up during the interim when Dave was gone and Richard was too young to carry on the Santa tradition. Some years you are a little numb during the holidays. But we now have the tallest, skinniest, off the cuff Santa ever! Santa Richard, Dave’s son is carrying on the tradition with varoom! The children are a tad bit intimidated by his towering height but endeared to his loving disposition and enamored by his questions. As for the adults…tradition does live on…inside that Santa costume is a little bit of my big Dad and my big Brother. You can hear it in his voice, you can see it in the gestures and you definitely feel it in the love.

The MoNsTer in Me!

I have a bazillion things to do--clean the house, shop at the store--for you Mormons now, no bursting into song --"so we can be ready for Sunday."

I wish I felt like singing, the dogs miss my singing, I haven't been singing as much lately. I'm not depressed.........I'm situationally challenged.

I should be working at the salon/boutique, working in my office, doing homework, yada yada. What I should do and what I feel like doing are two completely different things...but as it goes I have my trusty little lap top and my faithful little lap dog, and I surf the day away.

I do my best not to guilt myself, Dad always said, "if I miss this meeting, there will be another." And then that sh** eating grin would appear on his face, his head would bob slightly from shoulder to shoulder in mischievous disdain and you could hear a slight chuckle. Wow do I love reality.  There is always plenty of meetings, housework, homework and shopping, even for a Saint...and excuse me, but I'm not a Saint, I'm a farmers daughter, occasionally I have the mouth to prove it, (sh, I mean oops)!

I have learned that the list of stuff isn't going away, and I'm pretty sure this icky feeling in my chest will. I could do ALL that stuff (or get started,) and ignore this icky feeling, but "feeling" it is part of "healing."

I am reading, or rather re-reading, a book I read years ago. I have referred to many chapters on several occasions over the past 5 years. I love books where at the beginning of chapters are thoughts or poems that pertain to the book that make you think or give some type of insight. Here is the thought at the beginning of Chapter 9 from "Enchanted Love" by Marianne Williamson, entitled "Removing the Ghosts"

"There are monsters in my past, my darling.

So what? I have a few in mine. But I am not the monster.

I am not the monster, and the monster is not me."

When I was a little girl I was terrified of monsters! So much so that my dad had to carry me in his arms and show me every closet and look under every bed. Together we would walk through our basement, opening the "darkroom" door was the scariest! This was surely the place the "monsters" would be waiting. But my dad was bigger and stronger than any of them! I could have never trusted, I could have never slept had we not done this ritual every night. I cannot remember what frightened me so much, nor how long it continued, but eventually I did learn to trust.

I look back and see that, yes, the monster was in me...the monster is always in us. Can we accept that, can we actually see that...and move past it? Face my fears? I can now. Sometimes I just need a day (or two,) on, off, in or out of "reality."  Doesn't really matter to me which preposition you use. I suppose it's all about how You look at it.

Headaches, Homework, and Cancer, Part II

I don’t care how many holidays go by. I miss him. We all miss him. This is the 16th and Dave’s name always comes up around the Thanksgiving table and most definitely if we play games. He won monopoly even if he HAD to cheat, Dave won. DAD wants to win the battle of “incurable stage 4” cancer. He CAN win the battle. None of us win the final war, which is OK, I have no doubt Dave is doing just fine, and it will be a good reunion when we all join him.

What gives me headache number 15 since Friday is all the not knowing.

“How sick will he be on chemo? Why does this happen? How does this happen?










Why has this stabbing pain now moved from behind my eyes to my chest?


Does he want Dozer to come over? He comforts me.


Why do I have to be strong?






Maybe Zion would be the better Dog? I would give her up. She lies with me for hours when I am hurting. If Zion goes to Dad's I need to go, I don't sleep well without Zion. No matter, I'm not sleeping much.

No Roxee is the only dog for the job, she understands pain and suffering, she IS the LOVE dog, Rondy would LOVE ROXEE!








AND how does chemo really REALLY work?”

Fear. And then we face it, what IS the alternative? I have stayed in bed for long, ridiculously long periods of time. Depression? Excuse me for saying so but I would rather die…the long drawn out chemical type of depression where there is no joy, no purpose, and all there is in your world is darkness for no reason? cOp oUt, ViCtIm, ya I know. If you don’t get it, you never will, don’t even try…, and suicide is not a choice, knowledge, management and acceptance, life keeps on...but NO I have purpose!... my family has purpose. MY DAD HAS PURPOSE!!!

We face our fears, we fight when necessary, we surrender when a broken heart and contrite spirit is the order of the day, and we fight each battle as it comes, even when we do not understand or know our enemies.

Without challenges we do not grOW. Without heartaches we learn no CoMpAsSiOn. All these things are part of our journey…and we do NOT avoid them, or distract ourselves from them, or run away from them, because sooner or later, the challenges and heartaches knock at everyone's door, or just crash it down and it just comes in anyway. My homework is working the steps now, and the homework from the UofU won't be going away either (anthropology sucks). Life just keeps on...

Today I am a little angry, a little sad and I know that this is part of a grieving process that i have to go through. It is part of acceptance. I’m not sure if I will be totally happy tomorrow or the next day or the day after that, but happiness does come, if I choose to allow it. Dad says he is happy, this is important and what matters most! He is happy when his family visits. He is happy when he feels loved. Love can and does heal ALL. He is loved, Oh, He IS LOVED!!!

From Headaches, to Homework to CanCer? Part I

It seems my mind can race to hell and back in a matter of a 24-hour period with ruminating thoughts and piercing pain behind the sockets of my eyeballs that once again bring me back to…WOAH…glad that one’s OVER!!!!

This week, well, was filled with…deficits in the checking account(S), payroll due, homework, catching up on homework, presentations in two classes…and, my granddog pooped in the house, the big Dog, DOZER! Not finished yet…a little on the manic side for I am not sleeping…and oh did I mention my dad went in to the doctor to “have his throat stretched.” He was having trouble swallowing, came out with a cancer diagnosis, it got worse as the week went on and it looks as though it is in his lymph nodes.

So here is the deal, we all deal with a whole lot of STUFF in this life. Headaches, bills, homework and cancer, it varies from uncomfortable, to downright over the edge, on the brink, to, I’ve had it! But you Don’t, you Can’t, and you Won’t, and if you Do, then You become the Victim; and the unpleasant things of life Beat you, instead of You Beating Them!

So what do we do with the unpleasant things of life, or the downright tragedies when they hit? Hey, I’m no doctor…and I don’t think “they” have all the answers either. In all honesty, most of my answers or peace has come in the quiet constraints after a long battle, (usually with myself, isn’t that our biggest ones) comes when I petition God…and then I LISTEN. Now this listening is REALLY strange, no get this, REALLY weird, because all of a sudden very quietly I hear this conversation in my head that is so Loving and Logical, with absolutely NO JUDGMENT. No matter how awful I think I am, or others are, this voice is so accepting and loving. And all of it, as if it is a puzzle seems to fit together, and I get a glimpse of everything and I settle. My spirit settles…and I trust. I stop fearing. And I know that no matter what, things are as they should be, and life was meant to live happily.

It’s our choice to figure out how in between the headaches, the bills, the homework and the cancer, we choose and we learn how to be content and happy. All of life is lived in a -- dash --

-- to be continued --

Blazing Star

The Blazing Star is a purple wildflower. I like purple, it is a flashy color. My dad is a flashy guy. He is 70 years old today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD! He has been a hard worker all his life. He started out a dairy farmer, sold the cows a few years ago, subdivided some of the property and turned what was left into Allen Horseplay Stables and Arena. I like my dad, doesn't everyone like their dad? Well, maybe not.

Here are some of the reasons my dad is awesome... He is strong. We as a family look to him as a pillar of strength. He stands 6'3" and when he shakes your hand or you wrap your arms around him, or better yet you get to sit in his lap (I still do that sometimes) you feel safe.

He is fun. We laugh and we laugh a lot. He giggles at the stupid things we do. He accepts all of his family for who they are. Sometimes that hasn't always seemed the case, but as I have gotten closer to him I have realized how true that is.

He is gregarious. Moving into a close knit farm community back in the 40's was not easy, you were the outsider. Dad persevered, as a teenager he would take care of the farm and still find time for socializing too, even if sleep had to suffer. He is still a socializer, even if he is on the road he is known to pick up a hitch hiker just so he can have a nice chat with someone.

He is a great example. Dad has great parents as examples as well. My grandparents are still alive Glenna Allen, 91 and LeRoy Allen, 93 are the epitome of what great people are.

He is stalwart. If Dad makes up his mind there is NO stopping him. He decides to change a dairy farm into a horse stable and arena with his own bare hands, he does it. Enough said.

He is lovable. To know him is to love him.

My dad and the Blazing Star wildflower have many things in common. They are both tall and showy. They always return after each hard season expanding bigger and broader, and more of their seeds begin to spread and grow. Neither species is endangered nor edible.

As I look back on my life I have had one constant Blazing Star, my DAD.