Snowbird in September

The high mountain air is clean and clear.

I breathe deeply

fresh air into the malignant lump

in my breast;

slowly exhale the poison out

over and over again.

While little creatures scurry about;

Birds flutter and dart from branch to branch.

Big animals saunter, leap and run

on the snowy hillside.

The views are breathtaking

from inside and out.

The weather changes transitorily.

I sit on the balcony soaking in the view

in utter bliss.

Warm.

Content.

Thankful.

Moose hang around the playground and pond
but as many times as we went, we never saw one there.

Forest bathing in a snowstorm is even more miraculous.

Our cars parked side by side.
The cold, the heavy snow or something cracked our windshield.

Lunch, anyone?

Monday morning.

We totally skipped fall, going straight from summer to winter.

DeRay & Ed in Judy's Water Workout class.
After water workout,
DeRay & Ed went to a movie each morning
in the Wildflower Lounge.
Free popcorn.
DeRay also attended a Wilderness Survival class
and an Emergency Preparedness class.
He is set! 

Judy makes Eddy laugh. It sound so good.

Ed & I lap swam each morning at 9.

The first morning as I was leaving the hot tub, 

I ran into an old maintenance worker with a foreign accent.

"Hello, Mam," he says courteously as he opens the door for me,

"how are you?

Nice to see you again."

Lovely.

Early arrivals at the Potluck on Thursday.

Amy's puddle reflection.

We loved the pond.

Amy caught the fish swimming
through the reflection of the trees in the pond.
Awesome videos too but I can't make them work.

Saturday

After a soothing warm swim on a cold day, Amy eats lunch in the shelter of Iron Blosom.

A glimpse of fall after winter.
Something is haywire here.

Amy's droplet series.

Amy says it is deer scat

but I've seen deer scat

and I say this is moose poop.

Until next year.

Two New Binders

Two new binders

I want to neither look at

nor know what is inside.

I See the Image of Christ in my Son, Lord

I See the Image of Christ in my Gay Son, Lord

I held him in my hand when he was newly born;

Perfect and innocent, filling me with joy.

I held his hand at his first steps,

I watched him play and smile and talk.

This boy that I have been given,

Has been a gift and my joy,

With a voice that touches the heavens,

And hands that bring music.

He is unique and he is gifted,

And his smile lights up a room.

But the greatest gift I see in him, Lord,

Is that he reminds me of You.

I see love in his eyes and hear trust in his voice,

He cares more readily for others.

I have taught him all Thou hast given me, Lord,

And he has become a better man than I.

I see the Image of Christ in my gay son, Lord,

He is chaste and young and pure.

But we need a new way to live today,

To fill with joy and hope and love.

He is Yours, Lord, and he is mine,

So let us set his feet

On a path that leads him back to You,

As Thou hast made him - perfect and complete.

By Tom Montgomery

With Jordan Montgomery’s permission

Not because my son is gay but is Special Needs, this poem resonates with me. As I sat on the stand for a small part in the Christmas program last December, I looked down at my son in the audience and I thought: What if Jesus has already come again? What if he is in our congregation? Would we recognize Him?  Or did I just see the image of Christ in my son, so chaste and young and pure?

                                  He's My Son 

                               by Dallyn Vail Bayles 

                               

I’m down on my knees again tonight,
I’m hoppin’ this prayer will turn out right.
See, there is a boy that needs Your help.
I’ve done all that I can do myself
His mother is tired,
I’m sure You can understand.
Each night as he sleeps
She goes in to hold his hand,
And she tries
Not to cry
As the tears fill her eyes.

Can You hear me?
Am I getting through tonight?
Can You see him?
Can You make him feel all right?
If You can hear me
Let me take his place somehow.
See, he’s not just anyone, he’s my son.

Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep,
I dream of the boy he’d like to be.
I try to be strong and see him through,
But God, who he needs right now is You.
Let him grow old,
Live life without this fear.
What would I be
Living without him here?
He’s so tired,
And he’s scared
Let him know that You’re there.

Can You hear me?
Am I getting through tonight?
Can You see him?
Can You make him feel all right?
If You can hear me
Let me take his place some how.
See, he’s not just anyone, he’s my son.

Can You hear me?
Can You see him?
Please don’t leave him,
He’s my son.

Old Dogs Can Change

I forever have had this fetish

about the toilet paper on the  roller

so the paper comes from the back bottom.
(under)

If anyone dare put it any other way,

I would change it.

I just couldn’t use it from the top front.
(over.)

UNTIL DeRay brought home big rolls that stick.

You can spend 15 minutes rolling it around and around

trying to find the end and never find it.

When the end sets on top,

you can see it:

and so I’ve changed.
(OVER)

I can’t believe it either.

Self-talk

While waiting for the ultra-sound after my mammogram at Lakeview Hospital, this older lady came wobbling in, struggled with her key, finally gave up and put on the gown, then made the locker work. I had to wait so long, I decided to open my locker and get out my iPad. I couldn’t make the key work so she stood up to help me. (And I thought she was the demented one.)  She was waiting for a biopsy. As we talked, she said even if she has breast cancer, she doesn’t think she will do anything. “My husband had surgery and chemo and radiation. He suffered so terribly for a year then he died anyway.” “How long ago did he die?” “Eleven years ago from lung cancer.” “Lung cancer is different than breast cancer,” I comforted. “People suffer but live.”

I didn’t know at the time that I was talking to myself. She wasn’t diagnosed with cancer; I was.

I  wish it didn't happen to anyone, but if it has to happen, I'm glad it happened to me rather than those nearest and dearest to me.  I say this in all sincerity.  Better me than thee. 

I may yet come to regret wasting

$10,000 on stem cell injections in my knees;

about the price of . . .never mind.

Surprise

These are my two unscientific surmises on what caused this potential cancer. I had a breast exam by a doctor less than two months ago. No lumps. Monday, August 28, while I was showering at the gym I felt this hard mass. Sure? Check other side. Nothing. Definitely something there.

I decide I want to go to a doctor in the University of Utah Hospital system since that’s where I’ve had all my other surgeries.  Now there is a clinic at Farmington Station. Alison goes there. I tried to get in with her doctor but she was booked until late October so I took the first available appointment with anyone. Thursday at 4:15. We had to wait quite awhile and by the time he examined me it was too late to get an appointment with anyone for a diagnostic mammogram and ultra-sound. Next morning I call the North Davis Hospital but they couldn’t see me until Tuesday afternoon; Monday being a holiday. I called Lakeview where they recommended and made an appointment for Tuesday at 9:30, come 15 minutes early.

So I have the mammogram and the ultra-sound. Tissue looks different. It could be scar tissue, (I had a lump taken out 51 years ago) why would that suddenly show up? Only way to know for sure is a biopsy. Why can’t you do it now? Most people like to wait. It’s the waiting that kills you. Well, if your insurance OK’s it. She checked. Pretty sure insurance covers it. So they did it. The needle is the size of a pencil. It’s ugly. I look at the pictures on the screen. It just looks like an ocean to me. Two more days and I’ll know the results. It’s small. You caught it early. Relax.

The two things I’m suspecting: (I know a doctor would laugh at me.)

1.    The stem cell injections in my knees taken from the amniotic fluid of a newborn caesarian section baby carried cancer cells.

2.   The diet pills I have been taking for three months. DeRay and all his brothers and sisters are taking them. Ron has lost 90 pounds; Karen has lost 50 pounds. Most of  Karen’s kids are taking them. When Brent was here, he read the ingredients: nicotine and caffeine are the two major ingredients. Yep.

I can’t decide which one to blame. I’m certainly not taking any of the blame myself. Why do I need another cancer? Thyroid cancer is enough.

“I’ve had 23-year-olds in here with breast cancer. Now that is sad.” Like it’s not sad when an old person has breast cancer because they are ready to die anyway. Rude. I’ve still got things to do and I don’t want my schedule interrupted thank you.  I don’t call them on it. I have felt the same way. I remember when Mama was concerned because one side of her face was paralyzed from brain surgery. Eddy was a baby and I thought: “Mama, you’re old. Eddy has his whole life to live with only one eye and the distortions that multiple surgeries can't redeem.”  Mama wasn’t even 70. Here I am 80 years old and want everything to be just as it has been. It’s apples and oranges. One person’s fate doesn’t diminish or embellish another’s. A trial is a trial. Period.

Thursday already. I felt pretty good last evening and this morning. You know my gut feeling that all will be well.

Nope. So much for my gut feelings.  I have no inspiration or intuition.

Breast cancer. She made four appointments: 1) MRI; 2) Surgeon; 3) Oncologist; 4) Radiation

She gave me a key chain boxing glove that reads: FIGHT like a girl.

Sure.
   To add insult to injury,  we found out on our 61st Wedding Anniversary. 

Honor and Respect

Follow is a brief review by Robert Gehrke of an incident that actually took place on July 26, even though the video was just released yesterday. It has upset me immensely. It’s everyone’s fear, being brutally arrested for nothing. Gehrke wasn’t kidding when he said the video was hard to watch. The incident has made International news like the BBC; it was on the National News last night as well as all local stations. The video that Devin posted by Trending World so far has had nearly 15 million hits.

Alex Wubbels is a champion ski racer and competed in the 1998 and 2002 Winter Olympics.

But it’s hard to imagine she has ever seen things go downhill faster than they did when Detective Jeff Payne roughed her up and arrested her for simply doing her job.

The body camera footage of Wubbels’ arrest has made national headlines and drawn condemnation from around the country, with the social media world demanding Payne be fired from the Salt Lake City police force.

One thing is certain: Wubbels earned a gold medal for moxie.

She not only knew her job as a nurse, but she also knew the law and stood up for her patient in the face of a bully with a badge who was trying to conduct a patently unconstitutional blood draw of an unconscious crash victim.

Video of the incident is hard to watch as Wubbels, with her supervisor on the phone, calmly tries to explain to Payne that the hospital policy — which happens to reflect a series of clear rulings by state and federal courts — does not allow her to draw blood from an unconscious individual.

She stood her ground and for her trouble ended up getting her arms wrenched behind her back, handcuffed and dragged to a patrol car while she pleaded with Payne to stop.

“Help! Help! Somebody help me!” she pleaded. “Stop! Stop! I did nothing wrong!”

Two University of Utah police officers stood by and did nothing to intervene or try to defuse the situation.

In essence: Wubbels was right; the police were wrong according to the law. I’m more concerned about treating everyone with the dignity and respect each person is entitled to.

As shocking and upsetting as this incident is, I wonder why any woman in any church would be totally surprised. While we may not be physically abused, spiritually and emotionally we sometimes have our arms wrenched behind our back, are handcuffed and dragged out while pleading for someone to help. No one ever does. Only platitudes and blame back on the victim.

In some ways, maybe what I thought would make me happy would not have made me happy. Maybe having my arms wrenched behind my back and handcuffed, made me see more clearly and set me free.