still standing

I’m breathing in crisp night air
while standing on the curb
just outside the hospital doors
waiting for the hotel shuttle
whisking me back
for my last night in Princess Room
if only I could see the moon
but alas, it’s too cloudy

January 25, 2013
Loyola hospital
near Chicago
northern Illinois

I love the rain
Spring rains will come soon
thunderstorms and gentle mists
I welcome both

I love walking in the woods
and on a gravel road
lined with trees on either side

I love resting
whether on a proper bench
or plopping on the ground

I love the river
especially Grandpa’s river
the mighty Mississippi
standing atop his bluff
looking o’er her curving path
there I can breathe

I love to smile
and often do
a gentle curve of lips
or crooked at the corner
a flash of teeth and quick laugh
full wattage mega kind too
the best ones reach my eyes

I love the rain
I walk my dog without an umbrella
wearing rain boots with peacocks
splashing through puddles
with a grin
laughing at my prancing pup

I am not dead. I am here. Thank you, God, for these simple things and the ability to find joy in quiet moments such as these. Thank you for family and friends, and the powerful prayers of Your people who are lifting up my cancer fighting husband and me and our boys asking for the strength and courage we need to weather this vicious storm. We are thankful, humbled and oh, so very blessed. Hope bubbles fresh anew each day. Your love will see us through. ~Janean

January 25, 2013

Photograph taken on January 16, 2013, standing atop my Grandpa’s bluff, overlooking his river, my Heart Home, that place where I can breathe.

Here Lies the Remains of a Girl Who–Did What Now?: Put yourself back together.

autumndragonfly:

  • Sit quietly in a storm without an umbrella, without a word of complaint. Let the rain wash away every ounce of bitterness that has been used to write a eulogy on your skin.
  • You’re not dead.
  • Remember.
  • Drive down to the river. Drive down to where the industrial waste has not re-colored the…

I love the rain
Spring rains will come soon
Thunderstorms and gentle mists
I welcome both

I love walking in the woods
and on a gravel road
lined with trees on either side

I love resting
whether on a proper bench
or plopping on the ground

I love the river
especially Grandpa’s river
the mighty Mississippi
standing atop his bluff
looking o’er her curving path
there I can breathe

I love to smile
and often do
a gentle curve of lips
or crooked at the corner
a flash of teeth and quick laugh
full wattage mega kind too
the best ones reach my eyes

I love the rain
I walk my dog without an umbrella
wearing rain boots with peacocks
splashing through puddles
with a grin
laughing at my prancing pup

I am not dead. I am here. Thank you, God, for these simple things and the ability to find joy in quiet moments such as these. Thank you for family and friends, and the powerful prayers of Your people who are lifting up my cancer fighting husband and me and our boys asking for the strength and courage we need to weather this vicious storm. We are thankful, humbled and oh, so very blessed. Hope bubbles fresh anew each day. Your love will see us through. ~Janean

January 25, 2013

Here Lies the Remains of a Girl Who–Did What Now?: Put yourself back together.

he’ll be 13 in April

My oldest son has so many good life skills at age 12 3/4. My mom has said, “he’s an old soul,” since he was an infant. I continue to marvel at him, and wonder what God’s plan is for my oldest boy. He is so articulate, knowledgeable about so many topics, and good with people of all ages. He has such compassion and empathy in him, balanced by an in depth knowledge of warfare throughout history and weaponry. Lots of scripture and Bible teaching are buried in his great big heart too. I just keep loving him and encouraging him in all things. Nudging now and then. Downplaying and not gushing to keep his head from swelling. He’s a builder, a dreamer, a planner, a thinker and I hope a doer too. I miss him, his little brother, that great big Blue dog and striped cat too.

Initially written as a text reply, on January 23, 2013, while sitting at my husband’s bedside at Loyola hospital near Chicago. My friend, whose oldest son is the same age (well, 14 days older), was praising my oldest son’s conversation skills. Saying that he speaks intelligently and clearly, and comes across as very knowledgeable and thoughtful. Of course my Mother’s Heart swelled with a bit o’pride. He is mine. Forever and always my baby he’ll be, even now when he towers head and shoulders over me. Not ‘cause he’s a GIANT, though he’s built broad for football, just ‘cause his mama isn’t tall…sayin’ I’m under 5’ is close enough.

I grabbed my hotel breakfast To Go, so I didn’t miss the 7:30 a.m. shuttle I scheduled last night: oatmeal with brown sugar and sliced almonds (thankful for a plastic lid), a banana, one blueberry muffin wrapped up in a napkin (just the way my Grandma taught me long ago) all of which I shoved into my shoulder bag. Then I got a cuppa coffee and waited not too long. Coffee was gone as I was delivered, to the hospital front doors, so I bought a bigger cup and rode the elevator up. Eating now…started with half my blueberry muffin. Might get the other half, or might share…depends on how filled up that hungry man gets when he finishes The Grand Slam breakfast the hospital staff just delivered. Good morning from Loyola!

January 23, 2013
Loyola hospital
near Chicago

my heart hurts
I am breathing
I’m also standing
in a sunbeam
in the hallway of windows
just a few steps past
my husband’s hospital room
it’s quiet here
just the sound
of the heater running
that helps too
and stillness
no one is bustling about
I’ll go back…
in just a bit…
I am breathing

January 22, 2013