Busy! Busy! Busy!

I have gone "off the grid" this past week or more.  I have been *busy*.

At least for me.

With a looming surgery date tomorrow, I purposely filled up this past week with things I wanted to do, to keep my brain 'busy'.

I sincerely apologize for all the messages I didn't respond to or emails I missed, or Facebook birthdays not noted, but I purposely kept myself away from a lot of reminders of anything "cancer".  Looking in the mirror is enough reminder each day that much has been lost with this whole thing - so I wanted this week to be all about the "living" part of me.

I've spent enough time in "cancer-purgatory".

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, we did a "campout" with four little girls.  It was also, possibly the hottest day of the year, so the second night we took down the glorious tent that they all loved and "camped" in the cooler basement.

It was all some pretty great fun.  Scott and I looked at each other a little concerned that first night when we had a sudden realization that one of the four is quite a night owl.

We thought we had done enough to make them all sufficiently tired.  We didn't do any sugar to avoid any erratic "boosts-of-energy".   They played 'flashlight-tag', and ran around the stone paths in the garden looking for the magical woods and any sign of Melvin the Moose.  We stayed up way past their bedtime - and the plan was that they would all pass out from sheer exhaustion.

I almost did anyways.

But one was so wired - and she thought the tent and camping idea so glorious - she could barely lay her bouncing brain down on her pillow.  Scott finally took her outside the tent door and she and Popop looked at the stars and chatted about constellations for well over an hour, enabling the others to sleep.

There are few things sweeter than tired children sleeping in the moonlight.  They are beautiful.

Especially, when there is one tired Grandmum involved.....

We did a scavenger hunt the next day using the six days of creation, and one of them looked at me and said "Grandmum - you should be a mommy!"

I laughed, knowing they did not completely realize that I had spent a good part of my life "being a mommy".  As they have some pretty awesome mommy's themselves, I took it as an extreme compliment.

Suddenly, I just apparently bumped up into an elite league.

As I was putting away the crayon box in the basement last night, noting all the markers missing their lids, I praised God for blessing me in such a way.  Scott did a lot of extra work to make it all possible, and it was a blessed time.

I pray they remember it, remember the love, remember the fun.

And, remember God's awesome creation of the moon and the stars that we camped under that first night.  

***

My Aunt Eva died last week.  She had suffered with Alzheimer's for a very long time, but was a beautiful lady, inside and out.  She truly was a pleasure to be around and lived out her faith with heaping doses of goodness and love towards others.

Anytime you saw her, she always had the most welcoming smile, and her southern drawl when saying "why, hello there" always made you feel warm and loved and good and wanting to do better all at once.

I always greatly admired her.

My mother's family were strong, good people.  When my mother was left with a small amount of money after a nasty divorce, my brother Curt had three months off from his job and helped her make a home out of a shell of a house that she bought with her meager settlement.  She didn't even get a car.

But, my two uncles and Aunt Eva came up one weekend and helped her put in a kitchen.  Free and clear.  Done and checked off.

For a good many years, I would take my children to a small town outside of Cambridge to visit my grandmother.  She lived alone in a large house that she and her husband had moved to when they sold their farm.

In my mind, that small town was about as close as I ever came to finding "Shalom" as a child.  My Grandmother's house was a sanctuary.  And I wanted my children to know my Grandmother and to know her life and home and town and to love it as much as I did.

While there, Aunt Eva would always come out to "visit".  She would load us all up in her vehicle and take us for a ride and show us all our family history spots.  The last time we did that with Aunt Eva, we stopped and picked up Aunt Zilpha, and with my mother in the front seat and Aunt Zilpha with her active swirling atoms even in her 80's between us in the middle seat, and the kids in the back - away we went over the extreme curves and hills of roads that make up southeastern Ohio.

We stopped and looked at the church that my distant grandfather had helped to build.  We looked in the cemetery and Aunt Eva told us bits and parts of the lives of relatives that were buried there.  She stopped and we got out and *walked* down a high hill on a steeply curved path that was at one time a driveway and showed us where my Grandmother and Grandfather had "taken up housekeeping" when they were first married.

We commented on the steepness of the path, and Aunt Zilpha told us how she remembered "Mom hitching up the horse and cart" and how she "held on tight to her hat with one hand and the side of the cart with the other" and how they did that to "ride into town to sell butter and eggs".

My kids heard the story that all of a sudden didn't seem all that distant.

But Aunt Eva drove us all over that day, pointing out different spots and telling us the story attached to it, and I wish I had a cell phone then that could have recorded and captured it all.  We took notes that day, but they are misplaced, packed somewhere in a packing box long before computers made my life easier.

It was important to her that our family heritage be passed on - and not necessarily the stories she told that day and the many other times she visited, but the kind of heritage that an aunt would take time out of her busy life when she had her own business and family to keep her busy enough - but it was important enough to her to drive around her sister's family to connect us to a past that was tough but sweet, hard-working but worthy, harsh yet genteel - she passed on that kind of heritage, the kind that reminds us that it is important what you do that one day, that one time you have a chance to "visit" with family and show them how important they are to you.  How important they are in the fabric of the family.  How important their lives are to hold and cherish on that one day.

And to point them to God all along the way.  

She always made the time to do that.  

When my brother called to tell me the news, I instantly remembered that day.  I remembered the night my Grandmother's living room was full of restless children and she decided to entertain them all and play "Button, Button, Who has the Button" - and involved everyone, young and old.  There was a lot of laughter, a lot of togetherness.  A lot of love spread all over like my mom's strawberry jam over her home-made bread.

She was good and sweet like that.

But, when I got the call, I imagined my Grandmother and Aunt Zilpha and Aunt Thelma and Uncle Clarence all standing there waiting and welcoming her home when she passed over.  And her beloved husband, that she held so dear and cherished for many years.

They were all there waiting for her with open arms.

If I could accomplish half the things and help half the people and be half the places she showed up ready to love, I would count my life good.

***

We drove from the visiting hours in the early afternoon across part of the state to stay overnight with friends.

They fed us a huge steak dinner, complete with fresh green salad with blueberries and strawberries and roasted pecans over it that was so, so good to my taste buds.  We had mouth watering corn on the cob.  We ate a home-made cobbler.

Diane is quite a cook.  And Chris, apparently handy with the grill.  The steak was perfect.

We talked like we had not seen each other for years.  We talked like we had never been parted by numerous moves.

They showed us pictures of their son's adventure to South America climbing mountains.  The scenery was breathtaking.  The preparation astounding.

I'm thinking of that today, as I prepare a small bag to take to Columbus tomorrow.

The next day, Chris took the day off of work and drove us to Lebanon to eat at the Golden Lamb and look in a few antique stores.  One might guess that he doesn't like that all that much, but he and Scott and Diane were determined to do anything to give me a "good day", and it truly was.

I feel like parts of my brain are still not working correctly, and that I "blabber" when talking now, and they were too kind and too accepting of it all.

We sat out on their deck and cried and prayed before we left.

***

Last night, friends brought in a meal for us all to share.  They properly admired our new refrigerator that had come while we were gone.  Our refrigerator has been doing the long-goodbye for a long time - some mornings everything was frozen, some mornings everything was warm.  The frozen orange juice that Scott bought me was soft for over a month.  I wouldn't eat out of it because I wasn't sure it was doing it's job well enough to keep bacteria at bay when my immunity was at its lowest.

We kept throwing out a lot of food.

Scotty sat down here and waited for it, then painstakingly shaved off the bottom part of our cabinet because it was an 1/8-inch too tall, and replaced the shelves on the hallway wall that had to be removed to fit it all in - all that amongst other duties - he did so we could get away for a few days.

But those good friends brought in a meal, and tried out the funny water dispenser and made us laugh.  I was so tired from a busy week, but I wasn't going to let them go without listening and laughing and just talking about everything in the whole wide world.

***

And writing this without any planning as I am wont to do lately, there is a realization that all these have a common denominator - they all gave of their time freely, gave of themselves, gave of their larders.  They all did what my task-oriented-german-blood line thinks not so important - as there are so many *things* to accomplish first - they made community enormously important.  And whether it was Aunt Eva driving us around, or our friends, or a meal brought in - it was all gratefully accepted by a couple of folks needing to keep their brains busy elsewhere this week.

They fed us well, making me gain weight this week and hopefully bumping up my hemoglobins and such.

There were so many I wanted to see and so many I wanted to spend some time with, and so many email notes I needed to respond to, but it all paced out to today, and there will be time in a couple of weeks as I recover as well.

But today, I cannot help but feel the umbrella of God's blessing over me, God's blessing all around us, God's walking with us tight in the valley, all because He has placed such a giving community around us.  And blessed us with such family.  

We are blessed.

***

Someone sent me an anonymous gift and note that merely said "the obstacle is the path".  I have thought on that a lot.

I'm not sure what tomorrow holds, but I am reviewing this Psalm that a friend sent me several months ago.  I know some of it is prophetic, and pray that it might be prophetic in my life as well.  

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, 
    my God, in whom I trust.”

 Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare 
    and from the deadly pestilence. 
 He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge; 
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
 You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
 A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
 You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
 no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
 For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways; 
 they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. 
 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

 “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him. 
 With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation. ”