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it takes some good to make it hurt

I swear, my head is about to explode. Or something. The past few days have been a constant emotional roller coaster.

Starting with Saturday, I actually got some work done in my (lame excuse for a) garden. Mostly I just weeded, but I also spread out some plants and generally just felt good about accomplishing that much. It’s hard to garden with two small “helpers” who would prefer a construction zone for toy trucks over a garden any day.

Also on Saturday and early Sunday, I got a lot of work done on laying out SMR #3. I’m feeling good about how that’s shaping up, but I’m still lacking in the cover department, so I’m starting to stress over my creative block in that arena.

Sunday night, I have learned that a close friend has cancer. Today I was told another close friend’s father has it too. I don’t know how threatening either one’s condition is, which leaves plenty of room to speculate and worry. I’ve felt like crying since, but haven’t.

On Monday, I was offered a notable job opportunity. It would mean big changes from finances to responsibilities to habits. But it’s not clear cut if it would be the best move for me, mostly since it’s still not quite what I want to be doing.

Also on Monday, I made some good progress on a pet web/poetry progress, which I’m sure to blog about in the near future.

Last night I went to a good business class & felt empowered.

Today I finished a big project at work which felt like I’d been working on forever, so that was a relief. Then before leaving I spoke with HR candidly about the job opportunity I’d received. Basically, that was left with me needing to decide what I want. They might match the pay. If I ask for it.

Today, thank God for easy, happy decisions to make: I got the email announcing Jason Mraz’ US
tour info — and he’s stopping within an hour of here! So I’m pre-ordering my ticket(s) tomorrow. Oh, happy day — April 17th!! I so need that! Of course, DH isn’t interested in going. I think if I’d press, he’d come. Or if the tickets were free. But he says he really has no interest. And I’d hate to push him to come, because then I’d feel responsible for him enjoying himself, and I wouldn’t really enjoy it. So, I’m going to try to find a “date,” but I might just “go stag”… it could be fun to be “single” for the night.

Life is crazy, huh?

(I am so freaking exhausted.)

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not a happy bouncy post.

Cancer.

It’s a recurring theme in my poetry and what my hypochondriac-in-denial self is sure to die from, if I don’t die of a heart attack or in a car crash first.

The thought of it scares the crap out of me, turns my insides to mush, makes my throat tight. And that’s when I think of someone else having it.

At the same time, I think I romanticize it in my head. Not that there’s anything romantic about damaged cells going haywire, slowly overpowering a person’s body from the inside out; nor is there a damned thing that’s romantic about chemo or multiple surgeries or any of the other miserable things that cancer can bring. But with any serious illness, there’s inevitably a bit of “do not go gentle…rage, rage” Dylan Thomesque romanticism.

I heard a bit on the radio last week about how cancer survival rates are steadily improving. This does not stop me from imagining a mole on my shoulder is mutating or getting sick over a lump in my chest that was just a cyst.

Cancer freaks me out. I don’t drink pop anymore because of being paranoid about how the damage the acidity does & the free radicals the sugar creates. So everything is water or something with antioxidants or vitamins in it. Lots of antioxidants. Borderline obsession here. (In some nostalgic way, I feel sad that my kids probably won’t know what it’s like to down a quart of red Kool-aid in 30 seconds flat after running around outside on a summer day. I’ll make them drink, I don’t know, guava juice instead. That could get expensive. Still.)

The first person I remember dying was a classmate of mine in first grade. He was hardly there. And when he was, he got to wear his ball cap in class; he was bald from the chemo. I never really got to know him, but he was in our class picture at least. I think it was right at the end of the school year that Brian died of Leukemia.

About two and a half years later, my maternal grandmother went to the hospital. A short couple weeks later, we were at her funeral. At 59 years old, she had died of colon cancer that had spread too far before it was caught.

Not too long after that friend of the family died of a brain tumor. I think he was in his mid 30’s.

A few months back, a close friend was dealing with a cancer scare. The worst part about it for me was that I had no idea how to “be there for her.” I had no clue what to say or do. Any time the thought came up, I felt like retching. Other people have “survivor stories” to share, but for me, “cancer” means “death.” Even if it doesn’t.

Tonight at church, I found out someone who means a great deal to me & my family, someone who is a key reason why we live in the city we do, is going in for surgery on Wednesday to have a tumor removed from his colon. There are also spots on the liver that need to be checked out. The whole scenario is too eerily similar to my grandmother’s story. I haven’t been right since church.

So, do me a personal favor, will ya? Pray, meditate, send good karma his way on Wednesday and for his recovery thereafter. I trust God knows what He’s doing, but happy thoughts can’t hurt, right?

“Don’t you know we are immortal
until our work is done?”

~ missionary Ruth Thompson
as quoted by Ellen Vaughn
in her book, Time Peace
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rainbow in the rear view

God's promise behind me
[from my ‘real’ journal]
2/14/2008 1AM

Driving home from work today, there was a little rain. As I drove south on 77, right after the state line, the clouds broke enough for the sun to stream through the west side of the highway. That in and of itself was beautiful.

I was singing along with “No Doubling Back” by Jason Mraz when I happened to literally look back. I saw it first in my side view mirror. I confirmed what I’d seen with a glance in the rear view mirror: a huge, vibrant rainbow met the road behind me.

I smiled, enjoying the beauty & the coincidence — the wonderful interplay of the song, the view, and my introspection.

It’s time for me to move forward, [whether I feel ready or not] knowing I’ve got God’s promise behind me.

* * * * *

I have been meaning to post the above journal entry here since it happened a full week ago, but I haven’t had the time to do it “right.” I know, in my first post this year, I said I wouldn’t let not having a picture hold me back from posting, but it felt really important to me for this one. Even if the picture isn’t that great, I really wanted to at least scan the original entry (which is the text in the image).

This rainbow thing has been on my mind pretty consistently since it happened. I was driving home from work, like I’d said. The sky above was dark with storm clouds, and I’d gone through some rain right after leaving work: big, fat drops — not a downpour, but heavy from black skies. But right about where the highway crosses from North Carolina into South Carolina, the clouds broke to the west — the right side of the highway — and since it was about 5:30 PM, the sun was low in the sky and close to setting. Blinding, yellow sunshine shone in through the passenger side window and cast eerily long shadows of the treeline across the road. It was beautiful.

My mp3 player on shuffle, “No Doubling Back” was playing — I think it started right around when the rain stopped. Even then I didn’t grasp the full “coincidence” of the lyrics, but later I looked them up. Some of the lyrics I found to be more than fitting:

I would like to think that you’d know your way
we have dodged the ropes of rain…

…I wanna stay wet for a little bit longer…

…I know this ain’t the way I planned it
I guess I ain’t the great romantic
and i’m not doubling back now
no doubling back
doubling back now…

…when it rains it’s sure to pour…

While my “issues” aren’t romantically related, the fact is, the rain imagery and “no doubling back” lyric echoed my situation quite well.

Well, I was smiling, wishing my phone was a camera phone, singing along to the refrain (since it was a new-to-me song at that point), when I glanced in the side mirror and saw the rainbow. Then I saw it in the rear view mirror. I don’t know about anyone else, but rainbows always raise my spirits. Part of it, I think, ties to the Biblical symbolism — I mean, Noah’s Ark is one of the first Bible stories kids learn, so it’s deep rooted. (And really, for me it’s a Biblical reference, but the flood thing is such a far-reaching myth, touching so many cultures, I believe it really is part of our collective memory.) Anyhow, the other part of it is the simple fact that they’re beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. A rainbow, for me, is such an awesome “God experience,” when I feel truly connected with God as Creator. It gives me goosebumps.

So with [the symbol of] God’s promise behind me while I sang along “no doubling back now,” I drove home. I know I have to move forward. I can’t stay where I am. And as nervous as I am about the stuff I need to do, I know it will work out — I’ve seen, felt, the promise to prove it.

* * * * *

I saw another rainbow coming home from work today. It was faint, partial, & very high in the sky, but it was there.
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something I won’t even call a poem, let alone admit to (but I’m posting it anyhow)

A local radio station was holding a Love Poem contest for Valentine’s Day. The catch is, the poem couldn’t be about family, significant others, friends, etc. They didn’t want “hallmark” poems. They had to be about, say, how you love your Starbuck’s Venti Double White Mocha or House or pre-Scientology Tom Cruise.

Of course, the obvious answer for me had to be writing about Jason… (It doesn’t help that “I’m Yours” was just officially released today, and I just got my copy of the Fire Relief cd yesterday — “Silent Love Song” is so lovely.)

So without any further ado (or apologies), here is my terribly silly (and poorly written) O-dilly-day* to Mr. A-to-Z.

(* Get it? it’s kinda a scat-ish way of saying “Ode.” Clever, eh? eh? ok, nevermind.)

…

O-dilly-day to Mr. A-to-Z

Double entendres abound when he’s around,
and the sound of his voice makes me long
to be his cigarette or “One Love,” his favorite song.
His boyish smirk makes me grin as I blush
Like a teenybopper with her first crush.
Down to earth, yet he’s unattainable —
I’m happily married, so my obsession’s unexplainable!
Still, with his smooth-scatting and R r-r-r-rolling art
Jason Mraz knows the way to my heart.