Boy, am I good! I managed to talk my way out of the hospital long enough to make a pilgrimage to Memphis. Physically it was a challenge, but worth every second to be immersed in southern language, food and family. My siblings and I were there, together, for the first time since 1968 and no, that's not a type-o. My dad has two siblings living and we so enjoyed being with them and their families and hearing so many great family stories. Bottom line: I've called several places 'home' over the years, and they have been, but the pull to Memphis will never go away, nor do I want it to. I love my southern heritage--the graciousness, the barbeque, the fireflies, the giant thunder storms, but especially the rhythm of Memphis' language which stands apart from all other southern dialects. Put ten Southerners in a room together and I'll tell you, by the way they talk, which one is from Memphis.

So yes, as promised, I'm updating. I'm back in the hospital but I feel total peace and confidence that my doctors will figure out the latest and get me back on track. In the meantime, thank goodness for a mini lap-top and access to the internet, plus, I'm doing a lot of writing and some genealogy--making sure I've cited sources. Most of this is what I'd be doing if I were home anyway. My spirits are good. Just keep those prayers flying upward and picture me taking another trip South to do more research. For other genealogists, a couple of lines keep calling me. You know what I mean. When I get out of the hospital I'll post some pictures.

To post or not to post

I've decided, for those loyal friends who depend on my blog to see what's up with me, that I should post more often, even if I don't have anything exciting to say. I hesitate to post especially when the topic is my health. I know, I know, it's important, but most of the time I just don't like to dwell on it. However, I realized recently that not posting allows for all sorts of imagination games, so truth is better than nothing.

Update: Another bout in the hospital. This time without a certain diagnosis about the source of so much nausea and its accompanying side effects. Home now for 24 hours. Keeping a very strict detail of what I eat, when, and what happens next. I'm hoping it's just a matter of time--in other words, reintroducing foods ever so slowly and learning to avoid the ones that give me trouble. After all, I didn't eat anything for almost six weeks. But the nausea was worse than any flu I've ever experienced and I'll do just about anything to avoid it. And who knows, maybe I'll rediscover my thighs. (Sigh...is it a sin to have even a tiny bit of vanity at 50??)

That One

I often wondered what position you'd have played if you'd been interested in football, if Brandon hadn't been the football player in the family. You've experienced some trials that many will never go through, and you've allowed them to turn you into the man you've become. I'm so proud of you. Happy Birthday. I love you.

That One

beneath the glare of the stadium lights
all eyes are on the high arc of the football
except mine
I watch him--that one
waiting, expectant, his pliable stance
anticipating exactly how far to move forward
where to place his hands
for the perfect catch
he is ready
although he always hated
being the center of attention
and never let me give him a birthday party
not for any number of Ninja Turtle figurines
but he’ll stand in the limelight now
with the same focus
for the right game

the ball falls gracefully
giving him time to think
judge where to place his body
how many steps between adolescence and manhood
moving forward
anticipating the exact second
the ‘whhhoot’ sound that only he will hear
when time, space and matter meet in his open, steady hands
he wedges the ball hard against his breast
the crook of his left arm
leans into the rush
determined, fast on his feet
like that time
north of Duschene
icicles on the sage brush
being chased over snowdrifts
not caring where he ran
navigating ravines and embankments
with those sliding-into-home moves
that had them both impressed--
how does a boy learn to run like that?
and distressed--
we better bring him back

now
he looks ahead far enough
to judge the next step
the right direction
how big the linebacker rolling toward him
how close to the goal line this time
even though it’s almost certain
he won’t make it
but the hope is worth it
a whole field of spectators cheer him on
rise to their feet
while he rushes
into the organized melee
turning left, then right
he is fast, so fast
he'll make it one day
yeah
he’s the one I watch
that one

Ocean City

Highlights from the Ocean City trip:

Watching Clayton with Rolan in the swimming pool
Chantel's fabulous roast beef dinner
Watching all the boys play in the surf
My ride down the boardwalk, people watching
Getting caught in that wonderful, sudden rainstorm
Seeing a double rainbow over the ocean
Seeing the love among the Calders
Seeing the love between Michele and Clayton
Seeing the love between my children
In general--feeling the love!

Last night

Clayton and Michele got in and today we spent the day at the Calder's, then all of us went out for dinner at Carraba's. The food was excellent, but the best part was looking around the table at my whole family, watching the little ones stuffing pasta, and listening to the banter. I love each one of them so much! On Friday we go to Ocean City for the weekend to play on the beach and celebrate Father's Day. And I'm feeling stronger every day. Blessings...blessings...

And all this time

I thought I was taller. I've always said I was 5'6". Wrong. I'm only 5'4". And I've lost 25 lbs. Not the most healthy way to do it but it's nice to get into some other clothes.

A Dog and a Daughter

Oscar is heading to a new and wonderful home soon. I will miss him. But I realized that I can't give him what he needs. Every time I have had to leave him, especially for an extended time, he becomes stressed and anxious and all kinds of bad behaviors ensue. But I'm past feeling sorry for him now. He's been staying with Chantel and getting all kinds of loving and consistent attention, even sleeping in Owen's bed every night. Chantel has been managing Oscar, along with her already busy life as a wife and mother and the owner of a 7 month-old lab. She's taken numerous calls about Oscar and thinks she's found the perfect home for him. I'm waiting to hear.

Chantel has been and continues to be a mother's dream of a daughter. She treats me with nothing but love and compassion no matter how stressed her life is, and she always agrees cheerfully to run any errands, bring me anything I need, visit with me at the hospital, or talk with me on the phone. She radiates love and beauty to a depth that never ceases to amaze me. I'm in awe that Heavenly Father sent her, and she agreed, to come to earth and be my girl.