What do you mean "where's the plunger"?????

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

"Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce

Never say never - that is the moral of today's story, kids. Gather the elders around the radio, it's time for my modern day fable. Forget Aesop for I have pearls of wisdom the likes of which you've never seen. I've been thinking some really deep thoughts lately. I don't know if it's because of all I've been through lately or just because (gulp) I'm actually (MAYBE) a tad bit older than the 38 years I've declared. Whatever it is, the result, lately, has lent me a very introspective and contemplative period. My husband, Kevin, seems to have joined me on this journey, and, for once, we were in complete and total agreement on what we now realize is our hardest adjustment. After last night, however, I wonder if he would still agree!

We took a mini-vacay last weekend. Couldn't afford Hawaii. Didn't have enough time for a week in the Congo. Too scared of the flu to venture into Mexico. Goldilocks that I am, I announced that Houston/Galveston would be..."just right". So, away we went! I've said many times lately that Galveston and I are just alike: beat up, past our prime, sort of pitiful right now, but still so full of promise and potential! It was a great get-a-way. There was relaxation. There was warm sun and cool water. There were mimosas on the beach! And.....there were some tears. One morning, while Kevin and I stood in the bathroom brushing our teeth, I realized that we were both crying. After we rinsed, Kev gently wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and whispered through his tears how much he wished Chynna were with us that day. Of course, that's all it takes to turn me into blubbering jello (I so love my husband, though! This really happened and it makes me so grateful to have someone who would cry with me while brushing his teeth!). This led to a rousing round of "Chynna stories" (lots of..."remember the time..." tales), which led to more tears, which led to Kevin's confession. He told me that what is missing from our life, what he actually misses THE MOST, what he wishes could change.....we've lost all our crazy chaos!

Allow me to paint a picture of my pre-tragedy, pre-cancer life....I'm driving home. It's an hour past when I promised I would leave work to come home. My phone rings every 30 seconds, equal parts people from work that needed me to stay 2 hours past and kids who needed me home 2 hours early. Once I do reach my destination, I fear I will have at least an hour of errand running. I know of one past due school project that a certain someone chose to spring on me that day - which means there are probably several such assignments. I'm out of groceries. I have no idea what I'm making for dinner. I've heard a rumor that at least 2 extra wayward teens are treating my house as a hostel - and they're hungry, too! When I finally get home, the noise level is hurting my ears. There's Texas Country music blaring from the driveway, Young Jeezy or the Ying Yang Twins are telling me how they like to mistreat their ho's from the bathroom, and Kevin has inevitably decided to class us out with some Beethoven in the kitchen. Every TV is on - and on a different channel. The clean house fairies did not visit me that day. No one has any clean uniforms to wear to school, though it will be several more hours before I realize this fact. There is dog poop in the living room. The cat is regurgitating a fur ball at my feet. I feel as though I am dragging a child on each arm and leg as I move through the entry way, slogging through the slush and gunk of my life. And, I loved it. And, I need it back. And, we miss it so very dearly.

Back to our touching moment on vacation.....I tell Kevin that I miss all that chaos, too! I tell him that the first step to fixing a problem is identifying it! I tell him that this is an easy fix! What did I do? I picked up the phone and made 3 phone calls to my 3 boys and said these magic words: "Hey guys, I'm making enchiladas on Wednesday night." Now it is Thursday morning. In the last 12 hours I've done 7 loads of laundry. The dishwasher ran two cycles already and the 3rd one has already commenced collecting. Lucy turned over her dog food bowl 3 times. There was a strange boy in the downstairs bathroom at 10:30pm last night and he needed a plunger (ok, it was just Wingo and he's not that strange). No one but me slept in the right bed. It was complete and unadulterated utter chaos. We loved it! We needed it! We dove into it and rolled around in it! It was imperfect - there was no rap music, no Chynna arguing with Daniel over nothing more that her need to make him furious, no Douglas telling me what an amazing cook I am, no daughter to wake me up at midnight to tell me she needs one more piece of poster board from WalMart..... But, it was as close to perfect as we are going to be able to get at this point in time. So, I cherish these moments. Chynna, I so know that you were smiling down at me last night. We feel you in our midst at every family dinner, every movie night, every soccer game, every everything. I promise to keep making enchiladas - I know that you're enjoying this, too.

Writer's Block

Everybody's talkin' at me
I don't hear a word they're sayin'
Only the echoes of my mind

People stopping, staring
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes

I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Backing off the north east wind
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

"Everybody's Talking" written by Fred Neil, performed by Harry Nilsson

Life changed for me. At first, it was a difficult realization. I didn't want it to be true. I wanted to be excited about planning a vacation. I wanted to care that my favorite author released a new book. I wanted to be happy about buying new shoes, going out to eat, or even the holidays. It just didn't work that way, though. I guess it's not different....just indifferent. You don't care that you just don't care. It's not depression - it's really not. It's not a bad feeling, but more of an absence of feeling. I think our minds just try to protect us from our own devices - not too happy, not too sad, not too anything. I get happy now - I get sad...I have a full range of emotions these days. But, things are still different.

I, like every other woman of a certain age in this country, watched Oprah last week when she interviewed Elizabeth Edwards. Yes, we were all waiting with our proverbial baited breath for that moment when we just knew she was going to slam John and throw down some insults on that hussy who dared interfere with her life. What I was not expecting, though, was for Elizabeth to utter a phrase that would take me by surprise. I was not expecting her to sum up my whole last year and maybe the rest of my life with one sentence. I gasped! I couldn't breathe. It was just one sentence, but it was so perfect, so surreal....I have not been able to put it into words, but Elizabeth did just that. She said what I could not. What were those words? Elizabeth said, "Death looks different to someone who has put a child in the ground. ..." To me, that speaks volumes. That is a picture containing millions and billions of words. It is, simply put, the perfect thing to say.

Elizabeth and I belong to a sisterhood with a very weird dynamic. We both lost a child. We both had cancer. We both got better. She got sick again. I will most likely be fine....but I could be her in a few years. Then again, so could you! We just don't know about the future. Some people prosper, others do not. Some people have great luck, others do not. Some people realize their potential, others do not. I used to panic about these things. How can I pad the odds in my favor so that I can go to sleep every night knowing deep in my heart that I'm going to be one of the lucky ones? What is the magic formula for prosperity? For success? For fame and fortune? I don't worry about these things anymore. I'm not the least bit concerned with getting cancer again or being lucky or achieving perfection....I'm finally at peace with the facts. I control nothing. Death is not a bad guy that I can fight. It is not a game that I can win. It is definitely not a test that I can study and pass. It is, quite simply, our last chapter in the book of our life. It will come for all of us. There is no escape. There shouldn't be. Death isn't scary, folks. Sure, it's sad. It numbs your soul for a while. It makes you doubt everything you thought you knew. I watched "Wedding Crashers" this weekend with my mother (go ahead, roll your eyes! What a movie to watch with your mom, right?) There is a squishy, gushy quote during the maid-of-honor's toast where she says, "Love is the soul's realization of it's counterpoint in another." I think that is very true. I have another quote for you. Death is the soul's realization of truth. Don't waste one minute of the rest of your life worrying about death. We are all dying - it's just a matter of when. The book of your life has already been started. Chances are, you're somewhere in the middle - characters have been defined - there's a hero, an antagonist. Our books all have the same ending. It's up to you what goes into all the chapters in between. Write well.....write pure.....write slowly.....but, write like you mean it! And, don't you dare be scared. You may not understand this, but, at least in my case, I have a princess waiting for me on the other side.