Family

Family.  We are all familiar with family . . . parents, siblings, cousins.  Family, however, comes in more forms than just a blood connection.  Family is a group of people with whom you share a very intimate, bonded relationship.

We have discovered one such family in these last few weeks.  Not that we weren't aware of it, but we had not been an intimate member of this portion of the "cancer" family in some time.  Sitting in

Our new family!

radiation oncology's waiting room is an experience that I hope no one ever has to share, but if you do, let me tell you what you will find there.

First, there are no secrets.  They talk about their cancer as we discuss the local gossip with a morning cup of coffee.  What kind?  What treatment?  What drugs?  What side effects?  What is the prognosis?  How do you feel?  There is no shame in the fact that they are sick, perhaps even deathly ill.

Second, it is the most positive place I have ever been.  These people encourage each other in ways that the rest of us can't even begin to understand.  They cheer each other on, celebrate each little bit of success.  They are happy, joking, empathetic, supportive......and I am not talking about the employees (although it is true of them also), these are the people awaiting treatment.  Each and every one is taking their turn with "the machine" that will burn and destroy some part of their body, but in spite of it all, they march forward heads held high and a smile on their face.  And they go with the support of their "family".

Third, it takes only a few minutes to be included in this family.  They know and remember your name, age, birthday, and any other amount of information that floats in and out of the conversation.  There isn't time for the mundane like politics, or television or news.  There is only time for the "family" that they meet every morning in the waiting room.  The openness and laughter are contagious, you enjoy being with them.

Ready for treatment.

This "family" that we will know intimately only for a few minutes for a few days will impact our lives forever.  How is that possible?  Is it the terrible circumstances?  Or is it because the unimportant things of life are stripped away and that which is really important comes to the forefront.  Ultimately, once this treatment is over, we may never see any of them again.  And yet, they have impacted our lives in so many ways.  Here, when you say "I hope I don't see you again." it is the most wonderful thing you can hope for...…..that you never see them again under these circumstances.

And lastly, the room literally vibrates with faith.  Whether the patient is a believer or not, they welcome everyone's prayers.  The loved ones whisper their concern about the fate of their family member, asking for others to pray for their health, yes, but ultimately for their salvation.  Sometimes we have to be stripped naked to see what is really important......the waiting room in radiation oncology does that.  You come away with wonderful, painful, insightful details of so many lives.  But the one thing I have never sensed there is fear.  I am not saying that is isn't there, they just don't focus on it.

When one is faced with death . . .  something we all talk about but never really deeply think about until it becomes so defined in our life . . . , when it hits us in the face, we see for the first time just how fragile and "human" we are . . .  now we get to choose how we handle it.  I admire each and every one of this new family.  They are facing the ultimate fear and overcoming.  I pray that I will face everything in life with such courage and positivity.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Holiday Time

I used to love the holidays.  That was before. . . before I became a business owner and learned about marketing.  I was so hard on retail outlets who began putting up Christmas decorations in September.  I am now beginning to understand their rational.  So by the time Christmas actually rolls around, I am so tired of Christmas that I could care less about shopping, or decorating,  or much else "holiday-ish".

It is interesting how our priorities change over time.  I have become my mother!  I used to get on her case because she didn't put up a tree.  Now I think I get it.  It isn't putting up all the stuff that is a problem, it is taking it all down and putting it away.  And she never wanted any gifts.  I get that now too.  There isn't anything I need at this point in life.  Right now I should be radically downsizing!   And I don't think I am the only one.

I saw a blip on Facebook recently that said something to the effect that once the grandparents pass away, the family dynamic for holiday celebrations change.  I can see that happening within our family. My in-laws had specific traditions that came from the "old country" which made up their Christmas celebration.  Now that Grandma and Grandpa are gone, the traditions are changing because the grand and great grand children don't have that memory to draw them back.  Christmas Eve has moved to Christmas morning.  Traditional foods have changed to things that the younger generation likes, even the gift exchange has changed.  We now do "white elephant gifts" and "ugly sweater

Making memories.  A sleigh ride in the mountains.

contests".  Gone is the traditional reading of the Christmas Story, the Christmas Eve church services, and so on.  It feels sad sometimes, but life plows on even if I drag my feet.  Real trees have been exchanged for fake, Santa has replaced Jesus.  We now have light parades rather than cruising the streets to view the lights.  Not everything "new" is bad, but hopefully we can retain some of the old traditions too.

So what can we do?  First, I don't think we need to adopt every new fad that comes out.  I don't need a pink tree to match my décor.  Or an outlandish gift for everyone.  Secondly, I think we can let go of a few things but still retain the meaning of the holiday.  As the "older" generation, we should set a standard of what is important and what is not.  The relationships, the memories, the joy are important.  The amount of gifts or money spent is not!  I love to make memories.  We need more of those special times that we share, laugh, tease, and are just silly!

So as you enter this season, this holiday time, remember what is important.  Build relationships, establish traditions, enjoy your friends and family, laugh, and remember who is the center of the holiday.  Christ.  Without his birth, we would celebrate nothing.  Remember.

Just writin' on the River Road

My life with goats

Have you ever really wanted something on accounta it was just cute?  I fall prey to that quite frequently.  Especially if it has anything to do with critters.

And so my life with goats began.  I wanted some. I mean I really wanted some cute little bouncy goats!  But in my life I also have a husband.  A husband that takes a lot of wearing down before he will concede he has lost the battle.  It took over two years . . . I am nothing if not persistent.

I finally located some goats for sale relatively cheap.  In retrospect, cheap might have been the key word.  So we packed up the truck and drove 60 plus miles to pick up three goats.  And a very mixed bag they were.  Not really the cute "little" goats I had planned for, but they were goats.  And you can't

"Treats please!"

back out once you have won the battle.  So after much haggling and numerous people engaged in catching the little buggers, we were on our way.

We had prepared an enclosure for the goats.  What we were not was very "goat savey" at this point.  Jerry got the first one out, put her in the pen and she promptly jumped the gate and headed off into the wild blue yonder.  One down.  Number two was a little squirrelier and managed to slip out of Jerry's cold, wet hands.  He headed through the yard running over the cat who was so shocked he fluffed up like a basketball with four little legs and didn't leave the house for a week.  Number two went over the river bank.  He was free to wallow in blackberries all he wanted but we were not going there!  Number three made it to the pen, locked behind the gate which was now nailed in place!  The steam was literally rising from my husband's collar.  By this time it was raining and dark and we were both cold, wet and smelled like goats!

Hence began the great goat round up.  Between us, the neighbors and various contraptions, we spent days trying to corner the escapees. They had no idea where "home" was or who these wanna-be cowboys were that chased them from here to kingdom come.  Eventually we cornered one in the barn and got him locked up.  We finally just gave up on the third one.  After three days of being chased by people, cows and dogs, she resigned herself to stand at the gate pleading to be let in with the other two.  After that whole  fiasco, they had no desire to ever leave home again, even if we left the gate open.

But the great goat learning curve was not yet over.  I also found a purebred pygmy goat that I purchased for my herd.  Lacy was cute, little, bouncy and pregnant.  And I was so excited to have a

Dinner time for Whizzer

baby goat!  We watched and waited until she finally went into labor.  We waited and waited but nothing happened.  Turns out the kid was breech and did not survive.  But we were not sure if she was actually done since most of the time they have twins.  So I called the former owner and she said to bring her half way and she would meet us.  So at midnight we did a goat pelvic exam in the parking lot of the gas station.  No baby.  I left Lacy with her former owner for treatment.  On the way home my droll husband says "We really ought to go out more often."  Really?

Not yet done with the learning curve, we did not understand that goats are browsers not grazers.  So all this lush grass we offered up to them was met with much distain.  They would rather stand on their hind legs and snip the leaves off the nearby trees.  Which was not a problem until Molly leaned a little too far over the fence and became tangled in the wire and hung herself by her hind leg.  By the time I found her she was in shock.  We got her untangled only to find the foot was broken.  I mean really broken....as in you could turn it all the way around broken.  Neither on of us wanted to haul the very cheap goat to the veterinarian.  So we put it in place as best we could, used popsicle sticks for splints and taped it up with duct tape.  The vet was coming by the next day and we told him to stop and be prepared to put her down.  He seemed to think our "doctoring" was okay and went on his way.  The whole escapade had not slowed her down one little bit, not even a limp.  She had no problem standing on those hind legs and challenging me with her ten inch horns.  Now I understand the meaning of a "tough old goat".

All in all, it was a wonderful few years.  We arranged for a "borrow the buck" program so had a couple of batches of adorable babies.  One does not want a buck around for too long as they tend to

Maisy on her playground.

be a little "ripe".  The neighbors were always on the down wind side . . unfortunately for them.

 But the time came when we could not care for their feet anymore so had to find a new home for them.  It was hard to see them go, even harder to go out to their pasture and not have anyone come running for treats and attention.  But I have the memories of our adventures and misadventures to carry me through.

So long little goatlettes.  I miss you!

Just writin' on the River Road