up since 5:00
one cup o’coffee down
a bowl of cereal too
almost 6:30 now
as I laugh and throw the ball for Blue
his appointment is at 8:30
that wonderful husband of mine
for 15 years and counting
20 years together in July
friends before that
today we find out
if the chemo has worked
or if the cancer has spread
yet here I am
playing with the dog
his dog
the one he’s always wanted
trying to keep the worries and fear at bay
until we know what the doctor has to say
other than THAT
it’s a beautiful morning
crisp early a.m. air
birdsong from the treetops
not much traffic noise
less than two hours to go
and then we’ll know
what’s next

June 6, 2012

I walked past this hammock for sale at the store today and flashed back to my childhood summers. On the most special of days my dad would tie the big white hammock between two skinny walnut trees. We’d take turns climbing in to sway gently from side to side. How I wanted to buy a hammock today to recapture the peace and ease of those long ago summer days. I resisted though. No where to store it. No good place in the yard to serenely sway either. Street sounds. Lawnmowers. Basketballs hitting pavement in pre shot dribbling. Dogs barking (not just mine). I’ve landed a hundred miles from the deep, sloped, tree filled backyard at the end of a dead end street behind the little yellow house that I called Home for my first twenty one years. I grew up in a town of 20,000 surrounded by factories, farmland, and highways to anywhere but here. Now I think to myself, “Those were the days.” These were my fleeting thoughts this morning, as I pushed my shopping cart past the hammocks toward the aisles that held stuff actually on my list. The only other thing I wondered was whether my parents, my dad specifically, would like a hammock once again to enjoy on summer afternoons from his screened in porch that overlooks the Mississippi River. You can be sure I’m going to ask him and hope the answer is, “Yes.” My ulterior motives are quite transparent…I want a turn too. ~ Janean

Spring forward

Spring forward
means May is gettin’ closer
one year since diagnosis
the end of six months of chemo
for him
not me
May
when another school year ends
and summer begins
a time for healing
how I love Spring forward this year
the sunrise
striped in orange
is lingering
now a golden glow
I feel hopeful
nearly there
I feel thankful
goin’ for the cure
so glad for the chance
to move the clock ahead
and get to May
one hour closer
for it’s time to
Spring forward