The Kindness of Friends, Part 2...

Picture by Sheila Rumney

This is Sheila Rumney of Blessed and Distressed. She is a Silver Bella, par excellence, and a lovely person. She is what I would call "the genuine article." Honest, sincere, spiritual, real. I admired her from afar last year. This year I got to know her when she was in my Upcycled Treasures Swap. Sheila was always one step ahead of me with good ideas. I was new to this "hostessing role." I was grateful.

Picture by Sheila Rumney

She makes beautiful things like this paper-crafted bird.

Picture by Sheila Rumney

And this beautiful journal for the stories of your ornaments.

On January 1, I got this lovely comment on my blog...

Sheila Rumney said...

Suz, I just love your angel tradition. What true angels you have for friends!

My heart goes out for you, Jud and Kat each morning in prayer. I wish there was something else that I could do for you, possibly a scrapbook/journal for you on your journey. I saw the message on how people could sign up to help, but being so far away I didn't know if this was the avenue to help you. If there is anything that I can do, please let me know.

Hugs, Sheila

I thought about a journal for our journey but somehow it felt a little too sad. When I looked on Sheila's blog, I saw her ornament journal. I was smitten! No one loves their ornaments as much as I do. She had a journal kit and I asked if I could buy one. The answer...no. She really wanted to do this for me and let me feel blessed in this way. Well, did I ever feel blessed! I started taking picture of our ornaments right away.

I am aware it is way past Christmas but bear with the joys of an ornament-lover. I want to take you on a little tour. 

This was given to us on Katie's first Christmas, thirty-one years ago. I still remember the couple the gave it to us, though I have no idea where they are anymore.

This is part of the "Jud as Santa" series. He bakes a mean pie...

and he almost scuba-dived at the Great Barrier Reef! We all got severe respiratory infections that day and couldn't do our final dive. Jud begged the doctor to give him antihistamines but to no avail. Oh, well. In our imagination, we are excellent scuba divers!

Now, I was going to make big money off these ones. I was chosen to be in the fanciest Christmas Fair in Saint Paul and made a ton of them. I didn't sell one. I have given them as gifts for the last ten years and this is the last one. The beauty of crafting, right? You always have gifts on hand.

Ah, the cactus tree collection. From San Miguel, Mexico...

and Telaquepaque, Mexico...

and Santa Fe.

Then there were the ones we gave away and got back. We fell in love with ornaments so much that we showered them on friends and family. We were young and poor and they were a great gift. My dear SIL Joan had too many for her tree and one Christmas, these came home. This sweet angel...

...and the unicorn rocking horse. We got these outside Ghiradelli Square the year we were first married. Dirt cheap but beautiful. Still in perfect condition.

These are some of our South Dakota ones, from friends who never let us forget our roots. How do you like this birch bark moose? 

We got three of these one year ;-) They are pretty cute, huh? And our South Dakota friends are flakes!

I have a dear friend who is in my fibromyalgia group. Claudia has given me some gorgeous ornaments over the years. This Tiffany Lamp is one of my favorites.

This was my "yearly ornament" from my "lover boy." The picture was taken by Kat about five years ago. She was so pleased that the shape between our bodies formed a heart.

Picture by Sheila Rumney

My ornaments tell the story of my life with Jud and Katie. I am so thrilled that Sheila would make me a special scrapbook to hold them. She told me is will look different than this one and will be made from the new Webster's Pages. I can't wait. 

Like I said, Sheila's the genuine article!

I am deeply touched.

"God, make me worthy

Of my friends."

Edgar Guest

The Kindness of Friends...

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho 

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans 

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, 

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.  

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth. 

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and 

     purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

it is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you every where

like a shadow or a friend.

 Naomi Shihab Nye

Lately I have known sorrow like an old friend. A minute may pass, an hour, never as long as a day, when out of the blue, I feel a gnawing heartache, the sensation of my stomach sinking to my toes and an all-over fearfulness that makes me feel raw and skinless. It waxes and wanes, somehow manageable, other times, hardly manageable at all. I bought this mixed-media collage from a Silver Bella instructor because the words of Hafez seemed to be an antidote to my fear (and the work is so simple, yet, so incredibly lovely, with its black and white window and embroidered pastels on muslin). Essentially this piece of art says to me that God does not want me to live my life in fear, no matter how frightening the circumstances appear. FEAR-False Evidence Appearing Real, my friend, Betsy, would say. God would like me to find the joy that continues in this lifetime. For one, there is kindness. Somehow in my sorrow and loneliness, someone will do something so sweet and so kind that my sadness and fears melt away.

I bought the first piece from Colette Copeland. I have followed her blog for about a year now and love her work, which often includes collage, painting, embroidery and transfer in one piece. When my package at last arrived from Canada (amazing that Canada is just right across the Minnesota border), I didn't see that there was a surprise. Almost a half hour later, I noticed that there was a hard piece of art board behind my Hafez pieces, and on it it said...

To Suz, With Love. 

XOXO,

Colette

I ripped it open and turned it over and there I met "The Little God of Happy Endings." This God has a bird sitting slightly over his bald head, a head sort of like my husband's. What a perfect message. I cried. Happy tears.

There is going to be a happy ending to Jud's illness. 

This I know.

It may not be the ending I think I want, but there is going to be a happy ending.

Here is a picture of Collete and I, she looking not as pretty as she really is and me looking quite gooney with my estatic Silver Bella smile. I am in her class. I have on my riotously fun new craft apron, made by my friend, the talented Jem, and I have been creating, side by side, with my dear friend, Donna, sitting at a table where everyone is freely sharing materials, ideas and complements as easily as they breathe. 

I am so happy that my lips ache from smiling.

Just so you could see how pretty she is, I "borrowed" her avatar. I also wanted you to see what the face of a truly kind woman looked like. This is a woman who has "known sorrow as the other deepest thing" and still finds value in kindness to another who deeply needs it.

I still feel fear.  I still feel sorrow. But there is this other "thing" that keeps me going, keeps me putting my shoes on and trudging out into the world each day.

That, my friends, is kindness. 

If kindness is the currency, I am a rich woman indeed.

Mimi Meets the Archangel Michael...

Every year for the last...oh, fifteen or so...we have exchanged angels with our dear friends, Jo and Sheryl. I don't know how it got started. I don't know how Jud (originator of the *Angel Rule) let it get past us! I think it started when we both gave each other angels for Christmas by coincidence and, right then, a tradition had begun. Some years, we give each other similar angels. Some years, there are whimsical angels. Some years, there are serious angels. This year, we could not have given each other more different angels. Sheryl and Jo gave us the beautiful angel on the left (who I decded, was the Archangel Michael, patron saint of San Miguel). We gave them the coquette on the right, who we all concluded was named Mimi. Mimi came all the way from the Adriatic shore of Croatia and is a bit of a coquette, maybe even a little naughty. She wears short skirts over her twig legs and a seashell cloche. Archangel Michael appears a bit disgruntled at her skirt length but I can't help but think he has forgiven Mimi for her wanton ways!

Here is the Happy Foursome in front of our fireplace, Jud, Suz, Jo and Sheryl. 

And here is Kat, with her dear "aunties."

Ah, good friends. What would we do without them?

I was reminded by a poem that was part of a friendship reading in my sorority in college (and I cannot believe I can remember it all!)

It is my joy in life to find

At every turning of the road

The strong arm of a comrade kind 

To help me onward with my load.

But since I have no gold to give

And love, alone, must make amends

My only prayer is, while I live,

God, make me worthy of my friends.

                 Edgar Guest (I believe)

* The Angel Rule...For every angel that comes in, one must go out (does not apply to Christmas angels.)

Chemo Day...

It is a good day. Jud has "passed" his blood test and his white blood cells are up, so he is able to have his second chemo. The last of the late afternoon sunshine is on him as he has a cup of coffee and prepares to sit back in his warmed Barcalounger. He is so lucky to be at Methodist Hospital which is a place he works, doing Courage and Renewal work. 

Check the view out his window. This is the "Healing Garden." In the warmer months, there are gardens of colorful flowers.  I think the winter view is just as beautiful. 

I am sitting on the other side with my crafts in hand (a collage from Silver Bella that I still have not finished). My latest "toy" is up by that big computer...my IPad...I love it!!! Note the TV on the wall and across from Jud's chair. Not bad, huh?

This is such a beautiful, relaxing setting for healing. We feel very fortunate to have him here.

Our Friends Are Like Angels...

Our friends are like angels Who brighten our days In all kinds of wonderful Magical ways Their thoughtfulness comes As a gift from above And we feel we're surrounded By warm, caring love Like upside-down rainbows Their smiles bring the sun And they fill ho-hum moments With laughter and fun Friends are like angels Without any wings Blessing our lives With the most precious thing

Thank you for being our friends.
We are so grateful.

A Visit from Saint Nick...

Several years ago a woman approached Jud at a conference. "You look like someone I know," she said, "but I just can't figure out who it is." "Well, I did teach at Phoenix," said Jud, "and I went to the conference in Minneapolis." "No, that's not it," she said. "I'll have to think about it."

Twenty minutes later, she returned. "You look like Santa Claus!" she cried. "You have those rosy red cheeks and those merry, twinkling eyes!" (He was also a bit heavier at that time and had the round little belly!)

So here he is...what do you think? Just imagine a little more hair, perhaps a white wig and beard...

Fast forward to this lovely couple. Some of you will remember Petar and Jelena. Petar was our much-loved exchange student son during his senior year of high school, after three very wonderful "daughters." Jud, Kat and I were lucky enough to attend their wedding in Croatia this September.

They were married at sunset in the Church of St. Nikolas by the Adriatic Sea.

Petar and Jelena sat in white satin chair during their wedding, gazing at the saint himself. Suddenly Petar started to laugh!

"He looks like Jud," said Petar to Jelena.

Those of use who know him can't help but agree!

Light at the end...

It is amazing how our life, in general calm and predictable, turned into a roller coaster when Jud was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

Our latest episode took place at Stanford Hospital in Palo Alto,California, where we learned about SBRT radiation therapy, a form of treatment in which very specific radiation is delivered to the site of the cancer. 

Stanford Cancer Center is a beautiful place...the California version of Mayo Hospital. There is beautiful art on the walls and the waiting rooms all face toward the gardens outdoors. We liked the doctor and we felt the treatment offered some hope. Jud, however, needed to not have any other cancer in his body to qualify. We were anxious to get home but...

...the Midwest was in the middle of a blizzard and we were stranded in Denver. As luck would have it, Jud's parents had just arrived in Colorado Springs that morning and we had a wonderful twenty-four hours together. 

Jud and his two lovely sisters and amazing parents.

This one includes our niece, great nephews, great nephew-in-law and me.

Before we left. Jud took this beautiful picture of the sunset from his sister, Joan's, back porch.

We returned to the Twin Cities on Monday and today, Jud had a Pet Scan. We had some good news a couple of hours ago. The Pet Scan was negative, no cancer at any other place in his body except the pancreas. We met with the lovely Melissa, his doctor, and she was enthusiastic about the Stanford program. 

Jud will start chemotherapy on Thursday. Around January 6, we will head back to Stanford and he will have SBRT treatment. We will be there for three weeks, then come back here for three more weeks of chemotherapy. After that, they will do another scan to see if the tumor has shrunk enough to do a Whipple procedure, a surgery that could extend his life. 

Thanks be to God. 

I cried...

"Tears are words the heart can't express."

These days, I feel guilty when I cry in front of Jud. I don't want to add to his sorrow or to have him need to spend his energy taking care of me. It was bound to happen. We visited Stanford yesterday and looked at a different treatment, a radioactive knife that will remove tumors. We felt we had things in place before we left and we worried this would happen...that we would see something new and feel confused about what we should do. 

Stanford is a nice place and the people were kind (I give people lots of points for "kind" these days, especially in major medical centers). They were collecting blood samples in hopes that they would someday find a tumor marker for pancreatic cancer. Jud was asked to be part of the study and I was pleased to be asked to be his control. I could do my part, in a small way. Then...the blood draw. I am not very good with needles. I used to be downright phobic but repeated drawings for a pulmonary emboli twelve years ago somewhat desensitized me. I was glad to do my part. It went fine. I always thank the technician if I get a good draw. Really. It's a blessing! God slipped in!

We got home and the floodgates opened. It was not pretty. I sobbed. I started talking, amidst the sobbing, and all my worries came out. I thought the doctor was trying to "sell us something." I didn't understand all the "medicalese." I couldn't see how this was any better than what we had been offered at home. The "survival rates" were no better. My outburst lasted a long time. We snuggled together on the bed as I continued...snort...snort...sob...sob. So much fear. So much sadness. Serenity gone. 

I finally calmed down. Two hours later. My head is pounding this morning, but I feel calm. The Presence has returned. Once again, I am ready to continue up and down this roller coater called cancer. 

We will be here for the morning. Jud is meeting with an old high school friend who is head of radiology here (how did THAT happen?). Bob was actually at Jud's "Tumor Board" meeting yesterday. Then Jud is going to have some acupuncture with a Stanford-trained doctor. I will rest and read. We are renting a car and heading an hour or so north to see our friends, Susan and Gary. Susan was diagnosed with lymphoma a couple of years ago and is doing well. She is an old South Dakota buddy and we have known her forever. 

Hopefully we will have some great talks and some laughter. I am sure there will also be a few tears.

"Perhaps our eyes need to be washed with tears every once in awhile so that we can see life once again with a clearer view."

Alex Tan

Blessings...

                                                  4.bp.blogspot.com

"A blessing is a short meditative exercise in which a person focuses on the goodness of something in a way that it creates an opening for God." This weekend, two of my favorite grad school friends came to our house and we lit the candles on the menorah for the fourth day of Hannukah. Though our religious views may vary, it was a blessing. All of us experienced God's presence, though the three of us were Jewish, Congregationalist and Unitarian.

                             commons.wikimedia.org

On Sunday night, we were again visited by Cathy Crooks, our dear minister, whose presence is such a balm to the two of us. At the end of our meeting, we held hands and she prayed about the goodness of many things in our life...the gentle caring of the "little white dogs," the healing nature of the act of breathing, and our community of loving friends who were bringing us food. We each felt very blessed to be in this sacred space and feel the goodness of God.

                                                                                                                     quanyinhealings.blogspot.com                                                    

This week we will visit dear friends who practice an Eastern traditions. Their home is a center of calm and I know I will experience a sense of peace when we are with them. God is certainly present in the goodness of the lives of Susan and Gary. We will meditate together and when we will practice times of silence in our own home, we will think of them. It will be a blessing.

                                                                                             sowhatchayoubeendoing.blogspot.com

At our neighbor's home, we sang the Johnny Appleseed grace with our grown children this weekend, as we have done for thirty years. Each one tries to sing louder than the next. I hope God knows this cacophany is a blessing. I think he does and maybe He is laughing.


We ask you to bless us, in your own way, as we go visit another set of doctors at Stanford Medical Center in Palo Alto, California. Cathy prayed that we ask for help to open that door with the doctors, the clerical staff, the secretaries, the radiology technicians so that this can be a time of blessing for Jud. Help us open the doors for God to slip in.


"When we offer up blessings, we raise up sparks of holiness, releasing the God-light housed in our world back to its Source. We receivers become givers and the nurturing flow is sustained."


The circle comes around. Thus, we also, will be blessing you.

(Thanks to the work of Julie Neraas and Cathy Crooks. Quotations are from"Apprenticed to Hope" by Julie Neraas.)

Sleep in Heavenly Peace...

                                                       picture by Zdenek Sasak

We arrived home after dark from our appointment at Park Nicollet, which also happens to be Jud's clinic and hospital. We felt quite good about our visit. We immediately connected with the oncologist, Melissa Sampson. Our friend, Kathy, described her as a "sterling human being." It describes her well. She is warm, kind, extremely intelligent, honest and well-versed in the area She helped us sort out a lot of our concerns.

Melissa divided the treatments roughly into those that focused on a chemo/radiation program, at the start and those that focused on the new True Beam-type programs which use radioactive knives. The best program in the first area is MD Anderson. The most prominent one in the second area is John Hopkins with Stanford also in the running. Mayo, while good at many cancer treatments, does not  have as good a reputation in the area of pancreatic cancer. We were ready to head there for a second opinion and will now go a different direction.

Our immediate plan is to visit the program at Stanford, which is now the Patrick Swayze program. Then we will be able to compare the two types of programs. We have dear friends who live only five miles from the clinic and have been invited to stay with them. We really feel we need to see this program first-hand to understand the differences. If is looks better for Jud, we will move out there for five-six months.

The MD Anderson protocol is also the one that Park Nicollet follows. Melissa feels very confident in her ability to treat Jud during this phase of his treatment. Jud and I could stay at home and have the same excellent treatment.

We will deal with the surgery part of the program when we get there. We hear the same name over and over again when people talk about this procedure and that is reassuring. He is also located in the Twin Cities.

Jud is asleep. Our shattered nerves are calming as we approach a plan. My guess is that Jud could begin treatment in a week and a half.

So tonight, I think we will both sleep.

You, too. I hope you sleep well. Thank you so much for being with us on this journey. May you sleep in Heavenly Peace!