T is for Thanksgiving...and Tofu!

Two more days and it's Thanksgiving...Turkey Day! Though we see the hallowed foul served almost year-round, it is so "exalted" on this particular annual feast. Not the chicken, the pheasant or the rabbit--which, I suppose, would have been roaming the wild in those days in the 1600's when the Mayflower docked and even long before the first pilgrims had lain eyes on Squanto. The turkey, with the unassuming spread of its fanned tail feathers, had landed a spot in the middle of that fateful, memorialized table in history.

Why? Again, I know not. Perhaps, it was the first and biggest foul they could find before the first guests arrived....who knows? All I know is that this Thanksgiving, I CANNOT HAVE TURKEY! Darn it! On second thought, I don't really care...I only eat turkey when my husband bakes it. I don't like it in my sandwich, my salad or as any form of appetizer at all! But I did look forward to Turkey Day with...just that... turkey!!! (Sigh...)

Why can't I have turkey? Turkey meat is loaded with tryptophan which could react negatively with my current diet (of mostly fungus!). After my latest "bump in the road", we have had so many radical changes in our family lifestyle but none as drastic as MY diet! We never were meat lovers though we lick our fingers over my beef tips stew, sweet babyback ribs and backyard barbecues on hot summer days after a dip in the pool was something my kids and their friends always looked forward to...although my husband kept telling me they only came for the sides of eggrolls, empanada or chicharon! I can only look at ribs and beeftips now although the rest of the family is allowed their fill every 2 weeks or so. Surprisingly, they never asked for it lately.

Nevertheless, I love Thanksgiving. If only for the important message it permeates into our society once a year, it is, indeed, worth the bank holiday....the hassles at the airport or the bumper to bumper traffic...the bustle and hustle in the kitchen...and God knows how many burnt turkeys in various pots, ovens and fryers nationwide! If only we could stop and thank God as we do on Thanksgiving Day....everyday.

Families travel far and wide---by car, by plane and some less fortunate ones, even on foot---to wide open doors filled with family and a very warm welcome! This is one day we stop our "normal" lives to sit at the table and share the blessing of family, reminisce over happy times and reflect over trying circumstances or loved ones gone on by. Is there anything different on Thanksgiving from any other day of the week? Here in the Chicagoland area, it is supposed to be a sunny day...a warmer one than today or the day before. Other than that, the sun will still rise on the east and set over the west...the same sun will orbit the earth on that day and the same moon will light that night and when all the dishes are cleared off the table, you'd be staring at the same skies and the same stars (maybe give or take a few hundred) when you sip your wine outside and mourn over the day that passed.

Would we be any different then than we are now? We may see the same corners of Mother Earth as we do everyday, sans the vestiges of amazing daily transformations, but we are never sure if the faces we see today will be the same faces tomorrow...the friends we hold dear now may no longer be there the day after...even the hands that we work with today may be changed by fate in the next moment. Should we wait for an annual holiday to give thanks for all the bounty we have now? Should we wait when it no longer exists before we can grasp its importance in our lives? Do we always expect more and, thus, can no longer appreciate what we have at this moment?

It is true it takes a catastrophic event for a person to really take stock of what he has. For me, that was when I suddenly found a boulder smack in the middle of my "nicely crafted road" of plans. We live God's plans....we don't make them. We "adapt" to His will...and even if we do construct our own maze, He will always find a way to lead us out where He wills us to be and not where we wanted to exit. God makes His presence known in various ways and maybe He knew I was just too stubborn to be sent some "ordinary" signs! Or perhaps, He already did and I kept dodging the stones His angels were throwing to warn me so I merited a bigger boulder! That was my cancer diagnosis...out of the blue! Me...who had done everything I thought I knew NOT to get cancer! I was angry but not for long. I cried but I couldn't cry harder even when I tried. I am someone who always tries to find a silver streak of sunshine behind grey ominous clouds. It just took me a while to say the simple words God must have been waiting for me to utter all along! THANK YOU! Not for my cancer but for discovering HIM as my salvation when I knew everything that would and possibly could go wrong at that point (and just gave it all up to HIM) and the fact that He had sent me the best people to "walk with me" and help me along this untraversed and feared trail. As somebody had quoted (unfortunately, I don't recall who...)"It is up to us to make trails out of trials." Very true!

That big boulder shook me to the core and when I thought I was no more...that's when I became who I wanted to be. I have become aware of who I was meant to be: a person very aware of the hassles of motherhood and still thankful for the privilege...a wife, conscious of the faults in my marriage and still thankful for the gift of a faithful husband...a friend, always worried of not giving enough and is very thankful for the blessing of forgiving friendships...a nurse who strives to give more and do better and is still thankful for an opportunity to touch different lives...a neighbor who makes an effort to be sensitive to the neighborhood's needs and very grateful for everyone's overwhelming support. All these and more, I am very thankful for.

So I just realized, I may have scallops and green beans without the turkey but I would still love celebrating the holiday because Thanksgiving for me has become an everyday thing. I wake up thanking God for another day...another magnificent glimpse of nature, another opportunity to say hello and smile at a stranger, another moment to savor the same mushrooms I have every single day, another moment to listen to Fr. John Hurley's raspy warm voice giving the homily at church, another chance to hug my family (it's "air hugs" from the kids, this time being flu season everybody's afraid to get me sick and am still on chemo protocol though my white count level is 8.2!) ...that, too, is something I thank God everytime! My labs have been within normal all throughout my treatment that sometimes, I wonder if I'm "immune" to chemotherapy! All through these, I feel very blessed to sit down on this one day with family and friends and collectively praise and give thanks to The One Up There for all that we have and all we yet have to receive. That's my daily mantra...I always find something to be grateful for every few minutes and everytime, I try to remember to credit the One who blessed me with them.

So let's all give thanks and be merry for we are truly blessed! T, by the way, is for Thanksgiving......or, in my case, just some Tofu!

Why Can't Children Vote?

"Why not, indeed?" My constant headache nowadays stem not from my own harried and hurried way of day to day living, although it would surely appear that way, but from the purely innocent yet "punchline" queries from all sides---read: each of my four beloved "gremlins"! It has seemed to escalate as we draw closer toward the upcoming elections. Much as I do not want to talk politics once again, I seem to be inebriated by it..and I can ignore it no longer!

"Why can't children vote, mom?" That's coming from my inquisitive 6-year old, Joey, who said, "If you let us vote, this would be much funner....look! It's just oldies bickering over and over again on TV!" Whoa! Enough said, and truly so! It took me a long while to drive the point that every man must earn the right to vote and one of the requirements is that he first grow up and be involved enough in society. Children, by virtue of age and inexperience, cannot vote yet because they lack involvement in our so-called society. In other words, they don't work or pay taxes, they don't drive and pay insurance, they don't own land or a business. However, I had dug up my trustworthy book, "Over 200 Questions Children Ask" and had to quote 1 Timothy 4:12 .(Don't let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you teach, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and purity.") Just when I thought I had succeeded in explaining this to him he shot back, (oh, and brace yourselves!) "But Cain (forgive the mistake) and Obama don't act grown up..." Well, the rest of it is too hilariously true and not fit to print!

Now what do you say to that? With just mere days prior to the elections, to have one of our 6 year-olds observe our 'political circus' and state it in such down to earth, pointed words is embarassing. In such a quagmire world of technological advancement, economic crumbling and moral unraveling---we, grown-ups, have indeed become immature and selfish in our greed for ultimate power and self-promotion. As we set out to vote on November 4, may we endeavor to be good examples to our children. May we pray that our vote is something we could be proud of and live with for the next four years, which could very well impact our way of life for decades. This is a tough time for America. I didn't need to say that but it even looks more ominous in print. My favorite radio host has a topic on discussion this past few weeks entitled, "Where is God in America?"

Has God's displeasure with our immoral and selfish ways brought about a social upheaval unlike any other ever seen before? With the times unfolding before our consciousness, is the third secret of Fatima slowly coming true? Are we ready? How will our vote going to impact our children's tomorrow? All that is of value is not cast in gold. Rather, where one's treasure is... there lies his heart. Should we choose change that may undoubtedly mislead us to take the shorter route to uncanny destruction...judicially, morally and economically? Or should we rally behind the idea that we have one more chance to redeem ourselves by doing that which is just, prudent and morally right? One cast of the ballot is all it takes to put one man at the helm of this nation that has seen, suffered and conquered much. Let us show our children that we are, indeed, grown up and had earned our right to vote.

Let us pray that whoever we vote for will stand for us and with us in the forthcoming trials that will surely besiege this nation. May we not be disgraced in the eyes of our children as they see the fruits of our ballot in the coming months. Our ballot, once cast, may never be erased, modified nor deleted. It is one stroke of a pen versus four years of retribution if and when we realize our mistake too late. If our presidential candidates were to explain today to our kids that their kind may not even get to flourish because so many are deemed "not worthy" to be born at all....whom do you think they'd choose? If they are told that when they grow up they must share their dollars to little Joe next door who didn't strive enough to work hard at all...whom do you think they'd choose? If they are told that they should keep shaking the bully's hands even if everytime they do this they get mauled....whom do you think they'd choose? If they are told that if and when they get sick, they can only go to a certain doctor for a specified amount of treatment and medications...whom do you think they'd choose?

Indeed, it would have been much "funner" and simpler were children to vote today. We have much to learn from their simplicity and trusting innocence yet keen minds...we must bear the privilege we hold at the tip of our pens with pride and conscience as we etch their future in ink, in our own hand. With your vote, you either cast a ballot for their future or their demise...

Get out and vote like a grown up... choosing moral responsibility over greed disguised as pompous promises!

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

Obamanation...abomination!

It's another gloomy day in Chicagoland and that's usually when the churning clouds also bring into mind a swirl of issues I feel so passionately about. Last night's presidential debate came and went but I never heard a word of it. My oldest one... with his budding conscience about social concerns was glued to the TV all throughout the said forum. When asked what he had gleaned from it, he answered, "Nothing I already know, mom. If I am able to vote today, my choice is the same." Frowning, I asked him which it is because just like the relatively large number of students jumping into the growing frenzied bandwagon of Barack Obama in colleges and small towns, he had once declared "our" house for Obama...to which, of course, Da Man (my hubby) was close to hysterics why it couldn't be even if his life depended on it!

I know with our firstborn, setting him off on the defensive is the wrong course of action to turn his head around so I sat with him another day and we had our own little informal debate. I didn't realize how hard it was to talk "teen" until we got to the "meatiest" part of our debacle. He's a smart one, I tell you! I guess my genes somehow got through! hahaha! He had valid arguments but I was quietly smiling all along...not too smugly, or I knew I was going to put him off. We rarely, if ever, go one on one with social topics. Personal ones, geez! I should have listened to my uncle when he advised me to, at least, consider psychology when every other member of my family was trying to convince me to go into Medicine if not into religious life ---to which my dad would burst out laughing...he knew me too much!

I used to be on every club there was in school, save for the chorus. I was the team captain of our school's debate team, I had gold in our National Private Schools' Assoc. extemporaneous speaking contest (national level) way back when I was in 3rd yr high school and it astonished me how well Josh held his own until we got to my last question? 'If you don't like war so much and lament the deaths of these courageous soldiers we have who had "chosen" to be where they were meant to be at a specific time in their lives, how do you feel about killing unknowing individuals who were never given a choice at all?' To this, he paused and looked at me straight in the eye saying, 'To that, do you mean euthanasia?' (See, I'm starting to be proud of this boy....for him to even know the word quite took me aback!) But I said 'No, it's more than that. What I meant was abortion...the killing of innocent life even before they got a chance to live.'

'You mean to say Obama supports abortion? He said he's pro-choice.' And there lies the confusion, my friends. Pro-choice....for whom? Needless to say, after citing numbers to Josh, he was appalled; 4,000 soldiers have been killed in the middle east conflict and by terrorists while 4,000 defenseless fetuses are mutilated and sucked out of what should have been their haven before their birth...their mothers' wombs. The truth had dismayed my son, thinking he's going to see "history made" with America embracing the first African-American president. We still couldn't be sure how this election may turn out but God forbid we become accomplices in digging ourselves to hell!

There are greater issues at hand, you might say. I was left wondering after the stock market crashed and the bailout plan was signed if this is somehow a manifestation that God had had enough of our greed and love for money, which many call and has proven to be the root of all evil. America has become a "skeleton mill"......which would you prefer, the sturdy grown skeleton of a soldier, a woman molested and trashed aside, the victim of gay lynching or the unborn whose perfection was molded by God's hands?

I saw a print on a t-shirt last week that said, "When environmentalists start saving babies, I'll start saving trees!" How has our world come to this? I still remember an argument I had with one cardiologist at work years back when he was upset to learn my husband breeds fighting cocks. He kept telling me it's inhumane to breed them and have them killed in a cockfight! Up to this day, I couldn't imagine what his answer could have been to my question because his eyes blazed and he walked away from me---I asked, 'What's more inhumane to you...chickens bred for cockfighting, or the killing of unborn babies?' (By the way, after my "upheaval in faith" my husband has since put his whole breed into auction in the Philippines.)

Abortion occurs when the life of a human being ends before birth. Miscarriages are referred to as "spontaneous abortions". Then there's "induced abortion" when the preborn child is robbed of life by another human being. But abortion is already legal here in America, you might argue. And well, it is. Other than the most hideous type, yes. It was the beginning of the unraveling of faith in America and the advent of immoral proliferation of our generation. In 2003, President Bush signed a bill prohibiting a late-term abortion procedure or 'partial birth abortion'. The two women involved in the original court cases that brought about abortion, Norma McCorvey (Roe) in Roe vs. Wade and Susan Cano (Doe) in Doe vs. Bolton---have publicly renounced their roles and are now pro-life. These two women, once fallen, had taken courage and rose in faith. They are actively participating in efforts to reverse the abovementioned decisions. There are approximately 1.4 documented performed abortions yearly in the country today...as I said, roughly 4,000. Daily! Doesn't that weigh just as much on your shoulders as the more than 4,000 killed in Iraq?

If you ask me, every one of our killed hero in Iraq would be insulted to be questioned of their presence and bravery there....they had made a choice to be there. It was their conviction that it was their calling to be there and defend our country's freedom. They were there to stand for us who value our freedom just as much but couldn't heft a gun to our shoulders and look the enemy in the eye. That was their choice and their vocation...we should be proud, grateful and truly honored for their courageous decisions. How about the 4,000 killed not by bullets nor shrapnels but by scalpels; sentenced to die by their own mother's choice. What choice do they have? Which side are you on? Is it too hard to decide? What about the mother? Doesn't she have the right to know HOW to save her soul? I'm not my brother's keeper, you'll surely say. Yes, but aren't you God's own? Isn't she? Isn't her unborn child? God had said:"Whatsoever you do to these, the least of your brothers,that you do unto me." Would you rather enjoy and turn a blind eye today and face the verdict at the Gates? That is, if your life merits getting on the "right" bus!!!

Although we have more issues pinned on our presidential hopefuls' backs, do we put more weight on gold than that which God had gifted us---Life? What about the mother's soul? Isn't it our Christian and moral obligation to attempt to save an errant one? Are you ready to face an abomination like none ever experienced before? Then you, too, can jump in the "Obamanation" bandwagon!
Or you could think like an idealistic and morally budding 14-year old and go for Life!

***Photo courtesy of the National Right to Life pamphlet, "A Baby's First Months". www.nrlc.org***

BROKEN AND BEAUTIFUL

Oh, how beautiful life is if we don't let our worries overtake our mundane pleasures! We had holed up in scenic Lake Geneva for a long weekend, as the kids did not have school yesterday...guess for what? Yup, another Jewish holiday---Rosh Hashana. Well, with our predominantly kosher food nowadays and every other thing on the table being organic, we're as Jewish as the next Rabbi!
It was a great weekend sabbatical with the family...away from the hustle of everyday living and just getting closer as close can be with a family of half a dozen! Timber Ridge Lodge and Water park has become our second home in this tiny lakeside town along the border of Wisconsin and Illinois. It houses the water park which was the kids' hideout for the duration of the mini-vacation. Noe is oh so happy there's a kitchen in the suite (save the fish, he said...for dinner, that is!) and with the growing teen and preteens, we did have to get the 2-bedroom one this time. So there's more than enough room for everyone. It was coincidental that Bruce the Moose (the lodge's mascot) celebrated his 6th year of existence the Saturday we were there...so Joey had lots to occupy his already frenzied mind while mom and dad headed off to nextdoor Grand Geneva's Well Spa for a heavenly massage! Oh, how wonderful it is, indeed, to be alive!
I was tummy-flopped and took a long while explaining in detail to the expert masseuse why he shouldn't be hard on this and that spot and he visibly paled when I told him I had tummy surgery a little more than a couple of months ago.....I guess he was contemplating doing a light "skinning" experiment vs. a Japanese sumo "bone-breaking" maneuver! I told him I'm one tough cookie and as long as he doesn't apply too much pressure on THOSE points I had previously pinpointed, we would be just fine. He started sweating even before the aromatic oil was applied to my shoulders! Noe was much chagrined about the exchange although he was smiling along with his personal masseuse.
Aahhh...as the moments passed, my own unico masajista was playing music on my spine! As I lay there musing about the earlier exchange between my worried masseuse and myself, I couldn't help but remember my own not-so-smug self after my initial encounter with the "little c". I was more than worried...very paranoid and stupid. I was trying to push the ugly recollection away but just couldn't. The moment I had news of my "little c"...I didn't readily accept it. I was brought up never to lose sight of the desired outcome and to contemplate possible undesirable ones to better go around it if it ever arises. I am a stubborn firstborn, after all! I did not question God 'why me' and 'why now'---just as my GI specialist had advised. Instead, I sat there alone inside my closet, following the patterns on our cold travertine floors playing different scenarios in my head and overemphasizing the desired outcome of me rising out of the clutches of this affliction. Still, my heart bled...knowing the possible worst!
It wasn't until a day after my surgery---again, because of innate perfectionism, waking up before dawn to empty my surgical drains and foley catheter, checking my IV pump and meticulously writing the numbers down for my nurse---that I had realized my surgical incision was NOT as straight as I wanted it to be! I waited until my nurse had come and gone and then I did the only thing I haven't done yet at that time...cry! I cried my heart out, raging and talking to God in my mind as if He were right there at the foot of my hospital bed! I told Him if my surgeon can't even make the incision straight...how the heck am I supposed to be assured that he took the right parts out? I can't recall the whole tirade but suffice it to say I never do anything half-heartedly.
I calmed down for lack of any more scathing things to say and as I slowly made my way to the mirror in the adjacent bathroom, I realized all that crying had made my face red and my eyes looked glassy---in other words, I looked so "broken". I spent a long time in the bathroom washing my hair and taking a very carefully choreographed "shower" as my wires and stiffness would allow. When my surgeon made his rounds an hour later, he commented on how refreshed and beautiful I looked. Well, I told him other than my slightly crooked incision, everything was just "rosy"!!! He looked mortified until I told him it's not his fault...I had already talked to the Grand Master because He wasn't holding the line steady as He should have. Maybe he thought I have had too much anesthesia-buzz because he just smiled and nodded his head like an obliging grandpa.
Little did he know I've had a personal awakening the moment he said I looked beautiful...
I had to pray again after that because I just realized, I couldn't have done it better had I mapped the surgery myself. I am not a control freak but I have always been uneasy once things don't go as I had envisioned it to be. Belatedly, I remembered what my GI doctor had reminded me...with God, nothing happens too early nor too late. It is a divinely detailed plan He has for each of us. It was a hard pill for me to swallow. I was never really in control of my life...ever. He had it all to a T and I was just a vessel. At that point, it hit me that, indeed, I was just that---a vessel, and a broken one! His to mold and design as He wanted. And all His to repair if He so wills.
Relishing the organic lavender aroma of the oils I brought myself for my masseuse to use (thank God, he did not raise his eyebrows!!!).....I was smiling at the realization that yes, I may have been broken, but I am also beautiful--- as we all are in His sight. Broken but never alone. As always, the Maker stands by me and He alone will deem the time when it is right for Him to "fix" me and make me whole again. And me...broken as I am, when He finally makes me whole, I would only have greater room for Him to fill my life.
Aahhh...I say, Life is Life and it is, indeed, as beautiful as we make it; without the worries and the doubts. For as it is said in the Book of Life, "for if He is aware of every sparrow that falls to the ground, how much more care does the Son of Man have for his people." Nobody's perfect, I mused, as I inhaled the hint of Lavender in the changing room. In my mind, I was thanking my God that He has given me the opportunity to remember how much He cares. Yes, we are all greatly blessed. Hakuna Matata! We are all broken and beautiful!

From Scars to Roses

It's one dreary day in Chicagoland...perfect for lazy lounges on the dais or simply conducive for personal reflections. It's still a serene hour in the house as I sat nibbling on a small pieceof precious sugar-free dark chocolate---my treat for the day! If I'm not as lucky to hide this from my hubby, this could be IT for the week! HAhahaha!
I walk around the house and finally settled in front of our makeshift altar in the basement. We are honored to host the Divine Mercy pilgrimage statue this week and as I sat there still relishing the bitter-sweet taste of my half-inch chocolate treat, it dawned on me that the summer has passed and much as it was numbered just like any other days of summer, IT was the summer that changed my life! This past summer is the partial sum of my life...those summers spent and the future summers the Lord will deem me worthy to enjoy.
It was sooo quiet, so peaceful and all of a sudden this giant ugly image of a scar came to mind! THE scar from my Whipple surgery from 8 weeks ago! Geez! How could my traitorous mind conjure a less than appealing image at such a serene moment of self indulgence?!!! Then my sight settled on my beautiful white rose...I say MY because this particular rose I had personally offered to St. Therese more than a month ago along with two other red roses. The two red ones had long ago wilted...only THIS white rose, so silky white and still fresh after so long, had stood silently beside my small statue of St. Therese as I recite my prayers fervently day by day. It is mine...sent from Above by my favorite Saint to whom I had pledged devotion since I was a little girl----and whom I had "forgotten" as I grew old; and to whom I called upon again in my hour of need.
A scar...a rose...isn't the mind the most wondrous part of our body? Lately, scientists had discovered that the mind is, indeed, capable of "plasticity". Not the tangible plastic of our age but in scientific terms---the ability of the mind to reach beyond what was thought to be its only capacity, through bilocation, telepathic transportation and imaging. That would be a different blog topic, okay?
What I'm getting at here is the fact that my subconscious is "rationalizing" about the origin of MY rose. Not from Jewel where I mumbled at the price of $2.99 per stem but WHY I have it in front of me......from a scar to a rose! Had I not had a marvelously unbelievable summer when I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I don't think I would have ran joyously out of Jewel with that white rose clutched in my hand! Had I not had a "flash of doom" explode in front of my eyes when the very unlikely tests were run prior to my surgery, I don't think I would even enjoy the taste of dark sugar-free truffles in my mouth nor feel very blessed to have the Divine Mercy grace our home!
My smile turned into a silly grin as I looked from the images of Our Lady of Fatima, St. Therese, the Infant Jesus of Prague and the Divine Mercy.....stupid of me to think I could "forget" them just because I've grown up. But, gee! What a boulder of reminder was thrown my way! Another way of thinking would be that I "was stoned from Heaven"! However, with newfound faith, I can say it's a grace from Above. I am happy with my little miracles everyday... with neighbors knocking on my door every morning with fresh tomatoes from their garden, or asking what they could do to help (fancy hearing that from a 70+ year-old whom I'd probably outrun anytime, baby!!!), long-lost friends calling or sending emails telling me they're praying for me, and the ever-annoying but always welcome voice of my recruiter from American Mobile telling me how beautiful the weather is in Hawaii!!!! Drat it!
It is, indeed, very nice to be alive..to reminisce a lot, regret some and even feel guilty for things gone awry in the past. Just that realization will alert us to the fact that TODAY is wonderful...our God is GOOD, always! And, that because we have had the experiences of yesterday and the Life today...we could count on the hope of Tomorrow. For me, my ugly scar led me on a spiritual journey that had blossomed into the promise of MY rose. A promise that alights on my spirit with joy everytime I lay eyes on IT. Yes, as my teens are wont to write or txt or whatever else that is they do today.....GOD S GR8!!!

Of Kids and Wings

Some say motherhood is the proof that the female specie is the "nesting" kind....I'd say it's a manifestation of woman's nurturing side. Still, others (those who decide not to have children for diffferent intelligent reasons only known to them) plainly call it C-R-A-Z-Y!!!!
Well, in my case...you may call it super-megalocrazy since I have 4 of them, lovable gremlins! Josh is an excited freshman in HS, Jen likes to think of herself as a 'jaded' 7th grader, Jade is a smart, cautious 6th grader. And, of course, there's Joey...ever grinning super-enthusiastic first grader. Today was not just any other day for me. It started off just as usual, just as ordinarily...the early ringing of alarm clocks set at two different times, the scramble for the shower, bickerings over who gets the straightener or the curlers this morning, and the mad dash about the kitchen! And the usual sight of my youngest one still curled up in my bed. (He gets up from his bed when the morning chaos commences then climbs into our bed to snooze some more!)
Then, it's the littlest one's turn to get up and get ready for school. Wow! He was in cloud nine, saying how excited he was to have lunch in school...okay, I'll give him a week or two! He's going to change his mind after he has seen them all these first two weeks! Off to school he went and there my morning wound down to the longest day in my life--ever!
Whoever said, happiness is when the children finally flies the coop and you have your house to yourself again probably had a dozen unruly kids!!!! My youngest one is finally off to full-day school and I felt the house expand and swallow me! I was looking forward to this last year! Now, I spent the first two minutes smiling to myself....I have peace and quiet now...gee! One whole day! Oh, s--t! What am I going to do for one whole day? I'm not the shopping kind, nor am I the perfect housewife; far from it! I'd most likely drive around to avoid folding clothes! Ooooppps! That's supposed to be a secret!
The third minute came and I missed my kids...I missed yelling at them to pick up their feet...get off the phone...tidy up their rooms!!! I missed the shared jokes and the tantrums...I even missed the smell of those Pink cologne and Abercrombie perfume they spritz on all the time that I always tell them I hated! I was wallowing in first-day-of school separation anxiety! Me!!! I was counting the hours....and then they all came trooping in through the door! Oh, what relief! They know the way home!!!! (Kidding!)
After each of them kissed me 'hello', my heart settled down into a rhythmic pattern as if calming my raging hormones.....I see my kids everyday but today, I seemed to have truly SEEN them for who they are now as opposed to who and what I wanted them to be. This is another tiny epiphany for me today as I looked at them marching in from their present vocation---school. I am a mother, first and foremost...I try everyday to be "friends" with each of them, which, I tell you--could be a challenge half the time! I am starting to ease into my role as 'confidante' for both my girls and even Josh.
I have realized I just got through my first lesson of "letting go"...of letting my children become who they were meant to be. I am but a guide in this world and they are still God's in every sense of the word. I am not a perfect mother but having had four I had quick, on the job training. But nothing could prepare a mother, no matter how brave, to teach their kids how to "fly". Too often we, adults, do things that may make our childen want to fly "away". However, if we don't focus on the little imperfections...we would truly find bigger virtues blossom out of our children's day to day actions that would prove all those strained vocal chords have been worth it after all!
My kids may not be ready to fly yet and I'm not ready to let go all the way but today I have realized that their "ties" could be loosened a little bit so that they may have room to learn how to use their "wings". Just like the song, "Wind Beneath My Wings"....we, parents, are just that. We cannot fly our children's paths for them but we can teach them how to fly the course and avoid the various undercurrents if and when they ever find themselves in 'windy' territory! Funny I had to get to my 4th first-grader to realize that! But, at least, I finally "get" it!!!!

Well of Tears...

We always seem to know exactly where we are at times when a catastrophic event happens. Such is the characteristic of the human consciousness. We remember clearly where we were and what we were doing that fateful day of 9-11 almost a decade past. Some of you might remember exactly what you were wearing that day! I've had minor catastrophes in my life---events that I was wont to get over with quickly and has since moved on from. In our household, it is customary to shed a few tears and then laugh about it an hour later. I always tell my kids not to sweat the small stuff but in their pre-teen and school-age minds, few things in their lives are "small stuff"!

In my case, June 23rd was my latest catastrophic event. That was the day my GI doctor, Dr. Rameez Alasadi, called to tell me my tests came back positive for a malignant pancreatic tumor. I was devastated...at least, for a couple of days or so! It was like plunging through quicksand into an endless dark pit! More like Alice in Wonderland without the wonder of it all! With what little I know of the disease, it was scary enough and to delve into the medical aspects of it with the dissecting mind of a paranoid nurse was even worse. Several times up to this day, I still recall what my doctor said over the phone...'Don't ask why you, why now. With God, nothing is too early nor too late. You just have to keep a positive mindset.'

What wise words! I didn't consider them wise the first time I heard it....more like a grating anthem of cheerleading for the losing team, that is! However, as I sat on the cold travertine floors of my walk-in closet I realized what he had said was true. He also told me not to read anymore...to keep an open optimism with all the wonders of modern medicine and the underlying faith in his advice when he said not to question God's ways. I remember having shed a few tears and valiantly wiped them away. My kids were just outside my room and I didn't want them to ask questions when they see my puffy red eyes and inflated nose! I put a lid on my well of tears!

That same day, my husband and I were taking a walk when I decided to break the news to him. It was a somber discussion and much as I wanted to cry, I couldn't. He didn't either. This definitely is NOT small stuff and I was wondering when I would start "sweating"!!! We did cry that night after the kids were in bed but not much. Just enough to gauge how much water there is in our 'well of tears'. My awesome God has blessed me with an amazing husband. All he said to me after we shared that heartbreaking catastrophe was, "We just have to trust God." Just like that, the well of tears dried up! I then remembered reading somewhere that it is hard to SEE God when your eyes are blurred with tears and even harder to trust in Him when your heart is clenched in fear. It was at that moment that we found grace on bended knees.

It has been a couple of months since and I've been through a Whipple surgery by Dr. Mark Talamonti, a renowned pancreatic oncology surgeon at Evanston Hospital. Yes, he had found some nodular involvement and had staged my cancer at stage 2B but that does not, in any way, deter me from making my own story and I'm working towards a blessedly hapy ending. By the grace of God and the wonderful nurses I had who didn't take 'no' for an answer, I was able to get up and ambulate a couple hundred feet roughly 5 hours after surgery and had been cruising along since. I had my port placed by Dr. Thomas Pae yesterday at Northwest Community Hospital (where I work) and had my first treatment regimen under Dr. Matthew Adess in Highland Park Hospital right after that. I had suffered 6 agonizing SQ injections without complaint...I would have sworn like a sailor had my husband not been beside me at that time! It doesn't hurt half as much as I expected anymore! Again, I credit that to God's grace.

I know it's still a long road ahead...with confusing turns and potholes worthy to be called craters! However, with the support and encouragement I receive from friends and family daily, I could and would squeeze through tiny doorways to get through to the sunny side. And when things don't really turn out wonderful just like in Alice's story, who best to turn to than the Ultimate Healer Himself?

Just as heroes are born out of the ashes of countless catastrophes of this world, so is Faith rekindled in the rubbles of despair. I found my way back to Life in the valley of death! And just along the horizon I could feel the healing warmth emanating from the Dayspring.