I am still grateful...

“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.
But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now
mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.” 

~ J.R.R. Tolkien from The Lord of the Rings 

Though the world is full of peril, I will continue to count the gifts that are, indeed, more beautiful in such dark places...

101. Mane & Mango playing guitar together every night for the past week.

102. More than 100 hits on my mom's CaringBridge site.

103. Finding peace in cooking good food for my family.

104. The beets my good friend saved for me from her CSA.

105. Rain.

106. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. ...these are such centering books for me, and I gravitate toward them when I'm struggling. Tolkien was brilliant!

107. People who love me both at work and at home.

108. Mango drinking cold press coffee by my side.

109. Mane doing her own laundry. :)

110. Mane enjoying TWO fantastic overnights with friends this past month!

111. Fiesta at my parent's place!

112. My parent's outdoor kitchen...so fun!

113. Mane & I working as a team to grocery shop and run errands this morning.

114. Blankets that people made for Mane when she was a baby.

115. Sunroom.

116. New tires on my bike!

117. A beautiful bike path for my work commute.

118. A growing up kind of summer.

119. Email from Vespera.

120. Text messages from Niteo.

121. My neighbor, who spent the day with Mane on Monday while I worked.

122. My Bible Study ladies, who are covering for me while my life goes crazy.

123. That beautiful camping trip in July!

124. Camp crafts.

125. Yarn. Loads of yarn for craft projects and for play.

126. Our hippy looking campsite once we'd decorated with all our camp crafts!

127. That the camping trip was so fabulous I could write a whole gratitude post about that trip alone...but, perhaps, some photos will suffice:

***********************

This post was inspired by Ann Voskamp at:

Magnolia

 
I fell in love with magnolias when I first saw them in a specialty shop while looking at graduation invitations with Vespera several years ago. There's something so soft and clean and also a little exotic about them. They aren't loud. They're poised and quiet, not throwing themselves at you in a burst of color...just peaceful, composed, and waiting for you to notice.

Then I forgot about magnolias (short attention span?)...until I found myself declaring one day that magnolias are my favorite. It was a silly declaration. And I couldn't explain it once the words left my mouth. I couldn't even really identify magnolias, but I had this dim recollection of simple white blossoms against shiny green leaves and this faint sense of peacefulness that had descended on me when I first saw them. The love of magnolias had been hanging out in my subconscious just waiting for a chance to arrive on the scene.

I was reminded again of magnolias on a walk in the woods over spring break when I was staying with my mom during her chemo treatment. These aren't magnolias, but they evoked that same feeling when I saw them. They were reminiscent...like when an old song brings you back to a time and feeling you had totally forgotten, or a familiar scent calls up the memory of something long gone.

I am told that magnolias are symbolic of a love of nature, of sweetness, of nobility, and of perseverance. And I can't get my mind off them tonight.

My mom's cancer is back. In a big way. I don't even know what that means right now. The doctors appointments are still looming on the horizon, not yet a reality. And we have this weekend, while all the offices are closed, before we all hit the ground running, taking in more information than we can bear, before talking to more doctors than we ever cared to meet. Right now we're in the calm before the storm. Or the quiet after a big shock. 

And magnolias are on my mind. Nature. Sweetness. Nobility. Perseverance. Isn't that an interesting combination? I want that to be me...earthy, gracious, composed and tough. Beautiful and gritty. Susan with her bow and arrow in Narnia. Eowyn with her sword in the Lord of the Rings. Sweetness and perseverance in the face of all that life brings.

So, I found that there are magnolias that live here in the windchilled land of Minnesota. Sweetness and perseverance, indeed. And I'm fascinated that some will even grow near Lake Superior and Canada. The type that grows the best here is called the Stellata...the Royal Star. Brings me back to my images of Narnia and Middle Earth, of royal banners, of the sweetness in life being redeemed through adversity, of beauty and perseverance walking hand in hand.

I don't know what any of this means. I don't know what kind of journey or fight this will be...for my mom, for my dad, for me... I'm not interested in adversity or fighting or living life on the edge right now. I just know that the magnolias in my mind's eye give me peace. And, perhaps, that's the presence of the Unseen with me tonight...throwing over me a banner of magnolias...soft and sweet, noble and strong.

If Life is a Highway

Go see the Highway blog. It's been quiet there for a year and a half. I wrote there because that's the sort of thing I needed to say.

Poignant Gifts

Ninety-Five. Finding other bloggers, who care about the things in my mind today. Remember my friend, Gabe, who died last summer in a car crash? The woman, who was driving drunk and hit his car, was sentenced last Friday. I found a blogger, who was talking about it today. God Walked Into This Bar. It wasn't what I expected, but it made me grateful that someone noticed, that those of us who knew him are not the only ones paying attention.

Ninety-Six. The gathering of old high school friends that we had on Saturday. What an amazing thing to see the children of the people I knew and loved in high school playing together. What a sadness that one of us was missing and never gets to experience that joy. We were grateful to be together, honoring his memory and making some new memories.

Ninety-Seven. A husband who listens to me talk well into the middle of the night, even when he never, ever gets enough sleep.

Ninety-Eight. A party where every gift was handmade.

Ninety-Nine. Mane's childish arms around me.

One Hundred. That I made it to ONE HUNDRED, and I still have so many more gifts dropping into my life every single day.

*********************

This post was inspired by Ann Voskamp at:

Starting with 86...

My life is so full of gifts that I'll actually post TWO days in a row!

Eighty-Six. SUNSHINE!

Eighty-Seven. It was warm enough to start cleaning up the back porch and for Mane to do her math out there today!

Eighty-Eight. Mane running around outside, piling up snow with the shovel & pulling the sled. It's such a gift that she loves the yard and that she's made it her own little place.

Eighty-Nine. Good tenants.

Ninety. Getting to follow the Iditarod on-line, even though it's happening in Alaska. It's amazing the lessons we've learned over the years about people and strength and character by following this amazing race. It's amazing what pushing themselves to the limit does for people, and its inspiring to think of the ways in which we might challenge ourselves, push ourselves to the limit, too.

Nintey-One. I'm glad I have a car and also that biking season seems to be just around the corner.

Ninety-Two. Did I mention the sunshine? I feel SO GOOD today!

Ninety-Three. Chocolate Raspberry Balsamic Vinegar. Sounds awful, but it's actually very, very good.

Ninety- Four. Homebirth. I got to talking with my good friend about this the other day, and I got to remembering Mane's birth and how different things would have been if she'd been born in the hospital. It was a gift that, as young as we were and with as little experience as we had, we made the choice to have Mane at home, and it all went so beautifully.

Specifics

I'm learning that if you expect your list of gifts to grow very long, you have to get specific. You cannot keep listing general things or it gets very repetitious, very fast. You have to take note of small specific things. You have to think of each day, the new and different things that happened each day...and notice the gifts...and be grateful.

Seventy-Four. Movie with the grandparents and the neighbors, all of us piled together in the living room. We watched Hugo.

Seventy-Five. Birthday cake with the neighbor's daughter at 10pm. (After the movie.)

Seventy-Six. Friends, who made us laugh, at the birthday party this afternoon.

Seventy-Seven. This amazingly magical day that Mane & her little 3yr old friend had on Friday.

Seventy-Eight. Watching Mane be unusually gracious with her other friends on Friday night.

Seventy-Nine. Leaving Mane & Vespera together for 6 hours on Thursday and knowing they'd have a great time together. Peace for me. Peace for them.

Eighty. Access to health care...so we can get Vespera's knee fixed.

Eighty-One. My mom still has her hair. And hasn't been even a little bit sick from chemo.

Eighty-Two. Shabbat. Stopping the work, though it isn't finished, because it will never really be finished, and it is so important to just stop now & then.

Eighty-Three. Mane sleeps at night. The strange night wakings have vanished. Amazing.

Eighty-Four. Mango's warmth.

Eighty-Five. The little snowman in the back yard.

Splashing

Gifts just keep on dropping down, splashing into my soul, soaking into the dry and dreary winter places...

Sixty-Three. Newly rearranged living room...almost like buying new furniture only less expensive.

Sixty-Four. Looking back on the last year and seeing that I've learned something FINALLY about letting myself be loved and knowing what a difference it makes in my marriage to be able to do that.

Sixty-Five. Mane's cooperation after only 15 minutes of meltdown this morning over the math book.

Sixty-Six. Not melting down myself along with Mane.

Sixty-Seven. The aloe plant that is still alive, despite its bedraggled appearance. Live, little plant, LIVE.

Sixty-Eight. Duct tape (for putting the folding keyboard back together so I can still use it with my tablet!)

Sixty-Nine. Time spent reading the last Harry Potter book with Mango...in bed, sipping wine.

Seventy. The freedom to spend half the morning talking about political caucuses with Mane in order to prepare her for attending the caucus tonight.

Seventy-One. Health. I'm not sick yet. I won't get sick. I refuse to get sick!

Seventy-Two. New ring tones.

Seventy-Three. Crocheted owl. Not finished yet, but looking very cute.