Blessing In Disguise

This year, as we prepared our holiday meals, it became apparent to me that Rick was having a lot of trouble following the recipes.  I'm not sure what that means exactly.  For a long time, his deficit has been mainly finding the right word to say and understanding words that were spoken to him.  During the neuro checks at his oncology appointments, he usually has no problem with numbers, or reading words, or spelling words- even spelling them backwards.  

So this is new.

Maybe I didn't notice before because, though Rick is the primary cook in our house, he usually isn't following a recipe. One of his thousands of amazing talents is his ability to create beautiful, delicious meals from experience or instinct or creative imagination or whatever that magical stuff is that makes people great cooks.

Maybe I didn't notice before because I rarely spend time in the kitchen. We have definitely settled into our comfortable roles of Rick as meal preparer and me as table setter and meal enjoyer.  In years past I have to admit experiencing twinges of guilt as Rick spent the majority of his time in the kitchen preparing the feasts.  Offers of help were usually declined; I think Rick probably enjoyed spending time alone in his kitchen when the house is crowded with holiday hoopla.

Maybe I just didn't want to notice before that Rick's symptoms might be getting worse.

So this year was different. In a good way, I'd say.  We planned a Mexican feast for Christmas Eve and traditional favorites for Christmas Dinner.  We made creative turkey leftovers in the days after Christmas.  This year we did it together.  It was a gift to get to spend time in the kitchen with Rick, helping him do what he still does best.

Just wanted to put some gratitude out into the universe.

Aha! moment

I usually sort of dread this time of year. I used to call it the Winter Doldrums. The holidays are over. The weather is yucky. Everything is gray: the sky, the patches of dirty snow, the salt encrusted cars. It'll be another few months before we get another three-day-weekend at work. Blech.But then a very wise friend of mine made an off-hand comment that hit me like a ton of bricks. She shared her view of this post-holiday season that I am definitely adopting as my own: this is the quiet time of year after the holiday chaos that started way back in October finally subsides. This is the time of year to catch on projects, clean out closets, enjoy the quiet peace... until the festive chaos of the year catches up with us again.

Funny how God puts people into your life to tap you on the shoulder and whisper His messages to you.

Where did you go during Hugo?

Twenty years ago last night my mother, brother, and I hunkered down in the hallway of a house in Summerville, South Carolina while Hurricane Hugo, at that time the most powerful storm to ever hit the East Coast, raged all around us. These are some things I remember from that night and following days:

The weather on the afternoon before the hurricane was gorgeous- crystal clear blue sky, fluffy white clouds- and very quiet. No birds sang; no cicadas droned; there were absolutely no sounds of nature.

My dad was captain of a submarine at the time which had to be driven out into the ocean and submerged so it wouldn't get banged up in port. My dad said that deep under water, they could still feel the boat rocking.

We lived on James Island which was evacuated. So we went to Summerville to stay with another family whose dad was on the submarine with my dad- not nearly far enough inland as it turned out. Several days after the storm, President Bush (the first one) was photographed in front of the house across the street which had literally been cut in half by a fallen tree.

The lightening was green.

We had a battery powered radio and listened to a station all night (broadcasting from where I can't remember) that kept playing songs like 'Rock You Like a Hurricane' and 'Your Love is Like a Hurricane'.

We took in a cat that was dumped in the parking lot of a grocery store. We named her Iris after the Tropical Storm that came after Hugo.

It was my friend Caroline's birthday. Happy Birthday Caroline!

We all survived safe and sound and twenty years later I am blessed to have spent the night sleeping (in between infant feedings, of course) an untroubled sleep in a cozy bed. On the Anniversary of Hurricane Hugo I say a little prayer for people who spend their nights without safety and security, whose lives are in turmoil, and who lack the basic needs of shelter, food, and loved ones to protect them.