Mindful Moments

Dear Readers,

It’s been two weeks since I last posted. And, again, so much has happened, is happening, and will happen. It’s in these moments of change and chaos, that I try to practice mindfulness. Being present in the moment, however, requires a firm intention. Will-power. And, usually, some form of healthy distraction involving at least one of the five senses.

This, Dear Readers, is what I would like to share today: a series of mindful moments.

Sight

I’m writing this paragraph on Thursday, October 3rd. It’s barely after 6 p.m. and the sun has already slipped away. Shadows have claimed the lawn; they can’t, however, dim the golden glow of the fallen leaves decorating the driveway. The leaves are still bright—collecting streetlight, porch-light.

fallen leaves in drive

Sound

While making this observation, I’m listening to Jamie Dupuis play the harp guitar on YouTube. Dupuis takes classic rock songs—and other iconic tunes (i.e. Greensleeves, Canon in D)—and plays them on his harp guitar. It’s beautiful. Inspiring. Calming.

Touch

Berkley, a Mamma’s boy for the moment, is snuggled up next to me. His fur is coarse, wiry, and yet comforting. Luna is nearby, too—in the recliner, silky fur glowing copper in the lamplight.

cuddles with Berkley

Smell

Not everything enfolding in any given moment is pleasant. The gold leaves, the music, the dogs’ presence—these things help me to center, to find peace after a stressful day. As I am writing this, though, Luna jumps down from the recliner with a fart. Yes. A fart. To put it mildly, some smells are not soothing. It was funny, though…and laughter is an effective medicine.

Taste

This paragraph comes from the chilly (and rainy) morning of October 4th. This morning’s coffee was a dark roast—a bit bitter—but great for keeping the cold at bay. I can see, through the kitchen window, that the wind is stronger today than it was yesterday. It’s stripping leaves from the trees and ruffling more than just a few feathers:

the flock

If you’re wondering why I’m focusing on mindfulness, self-care and self-soothing, it’s because I have been experiencing an uptake in anxiety. I still haven’t found a happy balance between my home and my work life. I’m waiting for the sense of newness to dissipate and become routine…but that takes time…which is difficult for an impatient person to deal with. Also, my PTSD has been worse, as it always is, whenever a doctor appointment draws near.

Burlington.

Boston.

Two days in a row of being poked, prodded, and hoping for good results. Do I expect bad news from either of these visits? No.

Yet, for me, as a cancer survivor, there is always this sense that nothing is safe or permanent.

Please, Dear Readers, send prayers, light and good thoughts. In Boston, I will be receiving two, live virus, vaccines. These are the first live virus vaccinations I will have had post-transplant. All of the previous pediatric immunizations have been deactivated viruses (which, with the exception of Shingrix, my immune system has handled well). I’m anxious about my system’s reaction to live viruses…which is probably normal…but, still, exhausting.

So, what will I do, to calm down? I’ll be mindful. Pray. Listen to more harp guitar. Thank God for those moments when I am able to sit, and snuggle, with my fur babies.

aldie & berk

Sight. Sound. Touch. Smell. Taste. Living mindfully, moment by moment.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. It means the world to me.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

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Schedules & Seasons

Scarlet shrub

Dear Readers:

Since enacting the new posting schedule for Of Pieridae & Perras, I’ve been feeling quite a bit of pressure to create something truly amazing for you when it is time to post. I know that this pressure is self-created, but you can’t fix what you don’t acknowledge! So, please allow me a moment to reflect upon what’s going on:

  • First, I feel as though this post needs to be perfect, interesting, etc. (I’ve never denied the unhealthy fact that I’m a perfectionist.)
  • Second, the change in posting has also allowed for more blog fodder to accrue. So, where do I start?

Let’s begin with how cold it was this last Wednesday morning (which is the morning that I wrote the rough draft of this post)! My favorite black-and-white sweater is just not warm enough anymore. I could see the dogs’ breath, like white clouds floating upwards, when I took them outside!

“There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens….”

– Ecclesiastes 3:1 (taken from the New International Version of the Holy Bible)

Everything has its season—and that includes our individual lives. I have just entered a new “season” of healing. My donated immune system just turned two years-old! It astounds me that so much time has passed since my bone marrow transplant. I think I might be even more surprised that I’m still here, still alive, still trying to create a happy and healthy life.

“Life,” as one of my favorite infusion nurses told me in 2010, “is not a straight road. There are curves and detours.”

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Cancer—and transplant—were certainly detours. The beautiful thing about detours, though, is that they redirect you to a place that you may not have gone to on your own. Due to transplant, I met a team of wonderful physicians, a Bostonian family that generously allowed my husband to stay with them while I was an in-patient, and an incredible donor that has made all of this possible.

Without her, I wouldn’t be alive.

I wouldn’t be married.

I wouldn’t have three, lovely (sometimes crazy) fur babies.

I also wouldn’t have been able to go back to work.

Dear Readers, I have a job! It’s super, super part-time (8-10 hours a week), and that’s perfect for me. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but as one of my best friends often tells me, “you do you”.  This job is the ideal training ground for me to regain some stamina as well as some confidence in my own abilities.

Goldenrod
Not sure if this is Goldenrod or Ragweed, but it’s growing through the space between our front steps. It’s tall, determined, and in a certain light, beautiful.

Since I last shared a blog post with you, Dear Readers, I have experienced some terrible growing pains (PTSD and high anxiety levels), but I’ve also found so much to be grateful for. And, today, I get to say how grateful I am for you, for your presence here, and for all of your prayers and good energy. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

This Isn’t Good-bye

 

POA 2016

Dear Readers,

After much deliberation, I have decided to change my posting schedule. Instead of sharing a new entry every Monday, I will now be sharing one every other Monday. For instance, my next blog post will appear on Monday, September 23rd.

I am not abandoning Of Pieridae & Perras. In fact, I think this new schedule will make the blog stronger, and more interesting. It will give me the time, and the freedom, to cultivate fresh ideas. I look forward to sharing these future posts with you!

pine

Thank you, Dear Readers, for the years of support and prayers that you’ve given to me. Your love, light, and positive thoughts have carried me through some of the toughest moments of my life. I treasure your commentary and your presence here.

I will see you, again, on the twenty-third. Until then, I hope that life treats you kindly.

 

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Of Dahl and Dragonflies

dragonflies

While sifting through my filling cabinets, I found this quote scribbled on a scrap of paper:

And above all, watch with glistening eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it. – Roald Dahl

I found this quote at the same time that I started seeing “magic” around me.

It started with the appearance of a flight of dragonflies. The flight arrived, around dusk, while I was chaperoning Luna and Berkley outside. They swirled around us like snowflakes in a snow squall. There were so many of them—and they were so fast—that I unfortunately wasn’t able to capture the entire flight on camera! I was, however, able to photograph these beauties:

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I have never seen so many dragonflies in my life! Their blue bodies gleamed in the fading light; their wings cut through the air like helicopter blades. They were entrancing, magical.

dragonfly

Sometimes, though, “magic” is subtle—like morning sunshine on Queen Anne’s Lace:

Or, like droplets of water hanging, crystalline, on the dog run:

crystals on line

Do I believe that all of these wonderful sightings are “magic”? No, not really, but I do use the word, “magical”, to describe the majesty of the natural world. The beauty of God’s creation, honestly, has been a source of strength and comfort for me—especially during these last few years.

For instance, this cedar was dying, haggard. Now, a flowering vine (possibly English Ivy, among other vines) is giving the conifer a new look:

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Re-made, renewed, rebirth.

Always, always, look for the light.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. I hope you find “magic” and wonder in your everyday surroundings.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Past, Present, Future

It was exceedingly difficult to settle on just one idea for this blog post. So, I combined all three of them! I will try to make it a smooth read; it may get bumpy, so hang on to your seats! Or, is it ‘hang on to your hats’? Anyways, hang on to something.

The Past

My father and my brother made me bookshelves. They installed them in my home office two weekends ago. They also brought my filing cabinets. I’ve spent the last week sorting through boxes of books and old files. The cabinets have proven to be a treasure trove of surprises. I’ve discovered ideas for short stories and novels that I’d completely forgotten about. I’ve also found old diaries. This entry brought me to tears:

In the time that it took me to return home, she has grown deaf. She cannot hear my arrival nor my calls to her. And, still, she is happy. Her tail wags. Her brown eyes glow, meet mine, and flicker back to the path ahead. The wind rustles last autumn’s fallen leaves. The earth is ripe with the scent of spring. At least, in this, I have made an old dog glad.

This passage was about my Nissa:

Nissa 1.1

Even though our puppy, Luna, is nothing like Nissa, I sometimes call her by that name. At first it bothered me that I was mixing up their names. After all, besides being dogs, the only thing that Luna and Nissa have in common is their love and ability to run quite fast. Otherwise, Nissa was generally calm, but wary of men with glasses. She rarely barked (Luna has a whole language of her own). Nissa would put my hand in her mouth and gently lead me to where she wanted me to go. I was a pup to her.

From the moment that she climbed up our deck stairs (with porcupine quills in her jowls), until the day that she died, she was my guardian, my best friend. I will miss her forever.

The Present

Even when I’m practicing mindfulness, the present moment always seems to be fleeting. Time passes so quickly.

In this present moment—the moment in which I am writing—Luna and Berkley are sleeping on the couch. I’m sitting a few cushions away from them, watching the cursor on my screen flash.

doggie nap

The air conditioner is on. The dryer is rumbling in the background. Sunlight is streaming through every window that doesn’t have curtains.

There’s dog and cat hair on the coffee table. I’d much rather have a home with animal hair floating around it, than a spotless one. I read, once, that pet hair (at least on your clothes) is a sign that you are loved. If that’s true, this house is full of it.

The Future

As a cancer survivor, I have difficulty trusting the word, “future”, or the fact that I’m apparently going to have one. What do you do in the face of distrust?

You believe, in spite of your misgivings.

You believe that the best days are coming.

You believe that happiness and health are right around the corner.

We’re walking in the direction of our dreams—to a “new normal”—that is, of course, influenced by the old one.

Prior to my relapse, Seth had started brewing his own beer. My personal favorite was his pumpkin ale (it was delicious!). That hobby, however, was put on the back burner when life came crashing down around us in 2017. He stopped brewing.

There’s light now, stretching over the horizon, and Seth will be brewing again soon. A return to former interests is certainly a sign that life is moving in a positive direction.

What does my future look like? In October, I will be receiving the last of my pediatric shots. I’ve been querying literary agents for my most recent novel. Hopefully one of these queries will be met with an offer of representation and eventually a book deal. I’ve been learning Norwegian (for free) via Duolingo, mostly for fun—and to keep my brain active.

Finally, I’ve been scrolling through Indeed and Monster in search of the perfect job. I don’t know how many hours a week I’ll be able to work; my stamina is yet to be tested. With that written, Dear-Readers-who-happen-to-be-locals, if you know of any businesses in need of an office assistant or writer (for about 10 hours a week, with the possibility of increasing hours as I grow stronger), feel free to share their information with me!

Thank you, Dear Readers, both near and far, for your presence here. I hope, very much, that you remain a constant in my future.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Welcome Home, Berkley!

Berkley 1.0

A couple of weeks ago, a dear friend found Berkley’s bio online. She shared it with us; everything we read about this young pup matched up with what we needed to complement our fur family. Berkley was reportedly a snuggle-bug. Calm. Sweet-natured. We knew, immediately, that he was the perfect fur baby for us. There was no choice. We needed to bring him home.

Luna and Berk

Berkley was originally in Texas, fostered by individuals volunteering for the Great Divide Animal Rescue (an incredible non-profit organization). We submitted an application—to adopt him—and we were approved!

Thus, on Saturday, July 27th, we drove 4.5-hours to Connecticut to pick up our newest fur baby. It was worth every minute and mile. How did Berkley find his way north? In the back of a tractor trailer, operated by another wonderful non-profit organization, Rescue Road Trips.

Rescue Road Trips 1.0

The tractor trailer arrived shortly after we did; we watched, standing beside other fur parents-to-be, as rescue dog after rescue dog was unloaded. It was magical and inspiring knowing that so many lives had been saved from imminent euthanization. The dogs celebrated as they stepped out of the trailer. There were happy barks. Wagging tails. Small dogs, big dogs. So many personalities!

Rescue Road Trips

Although I had seen Berkley’s profile picture online, I will admit to being afraid that I wouldn’t recognize him. It didn’t really matter, though, because he recognized us. One of the rescue’s volunteers led him over to us, and he immediately started kissing on us and wagging his tail.

Berkley is a Labrador Retriever and German Shorthair Pointer mix. His coat is ebony, but if the sunlight hits his fur just right, you can see red highlights. He has dappled paws as well as a dappled tummy (he loves tummy rubs!). The tip of his tail is white. He’s adorable and behaves exactly as his online profile described.

paws
Someone will be getting his nails clipped soon….

He’s also a mama’s boy. For this surprise, I am so, so grateful. I haven’t been anyone’s person since our family dog, Nissa and, then, later, my cat Wallace, passed away. Much of my heart will always belong to them, but Berkley’s presence will undoubtedly help stitch the wound up.

Berkley

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here. I appreciate all of your prayers, love and light. Your good energy does have an impact! Do you remember that dental exam I was feeling anxious about? The results: No new cavities. No root canal needed. Inflammation of the gums due to radiation, yes, but overall, my dentist was pleased at how well I had taken care of my mouth. Prior to transplant in 2017, I had to have a dental exam in which three teeth were marked as eventually requiring crowns. One of those teeth broke in January, and was subsequently crowned. Now, it’s time to take care of one of the others.

Progress. Slow, and steady, progress.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

The Neighborhood

LH
Above: One of the houses comprising a Living History Open Air Museum in Canada’s Eastern Townships (the name has been lost in the chemo fog).

The neighbors, across the road, are selling their house. I don’t know their names. I’m not sure I could even recognize them if we were in the same grocery store aisle. Regardless, I’m going to miss them.

I’m going to miss the sound of a snow plow being attached to a pick-up truck early in the morning (that was my signal that there was actually snow on the ground!).

They were/are quiet, busy living their own lives. Last summer, they had their roof replaced and the effect was beautiful. Worn, darkened shingles were ripped off, and coffee-colored ones were installed. The change brightened the house’s appearance.

To be honest, I have no idea why I’m writing about this. And, still, I feel as though I must. Could it simply be an unconscious need to express gratitude? Having lived in various apartments, surrounded by loud neighbors, I am truly grateful for these quiet ones.

I wonder, sometimes, what kind of neighbor am I?

I try to be social. If I’m outside, wearing my glasses, and recognize a car going by as belonging to one of our neighbors, I will wave to them. The neighbors to our left have a magnificent outdoor patio (it’s surrounded by lush greenery and colorful flowers). Someday, I’ll drum up the courage to ask them for gardening advice.

Fort Ti
Above: A view of the King’s Garden at Fort Ticonderoga.

I did meet one neighbor, this past winter, when I hand-delivered her mail to her. An envelope, addressed to her, had been erroneously placed in our mailbox. Although it seems like such a small thing, it was terrifying to deliver a piece of mail. My immune system was still infantile! What if the person that opened the door was ill? What if this neighbor wasn’t friendly? I can’t remember her name—but I knew, immediately, that all of my worries had been a waste of precious time and energy. My neighbor was a fellow yogi! Her clothes indicated this. She also had a glow that I associate with serenity.

It’s difficult to make friends as an adult. Not because we don’t want to, but because as we age, we put walls up. We stop taking risks, stop reaching out. It’s a habit that I intend to change.

LH Church
Above: The Church at the Living History Open Air Museum.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. You are my “online neighborhood”. You bring me so much joy and courage. Please continue to send prayers, light, and love. There’s a dental appointment this week…and, well, chemotherapy and radiation do horrible things to your teeth. Also, the overhead light tends to trigger my PTSD. The good news in all of this? Once my teeth have been examined, and fixed, I should (knocking on wood rather loudly) be able to maintain a healthy mouth. Our teeth affect our overall health more than we sometimes realize. Ultimately, this appointment is just another small step toward living a healthy life.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Route Recalculation

tomatos 71419
Apparently (I hope I don’t jinx myself), I have a green thumb for outdoor container gardening!

I learned some things on the way to my most recent appointment in Boston:

One – Black-eyed Susans grow in colossal patches alongside New Hampshire’s main roadways. When the sun shines on them, they glow gold. I’ve never seen so many of these flowers growing together! It was breathtaking. If the traffic had been slower, I would have taken a picture.

Two – Traffic stopped for an hour on I-93 due to an accident. Someone involved in the collision was air-lifted out. Even amid the sirens of police cruisers, ambulances, and fire trucks, there was silence. Silence for the injured. Silence for the “what-if’s”. A silence that is not heard, but felt.

I learned some things while in Boston:

One – Although I stopped taking my anti-rejection medication in June, it’s still circulating in my body. It takes three months for it to clear out. Until then, I will continue to take an anti-viral, Acyclovir, as well as an anti-biotic, Bactrim. We did eliminate one medication from the list, though. Bye-bye Protonix!

Two – The second dose of a vaccine can be worse than the first dose. The first time I was given Shingrix, I also received seven other vaccinations. At the time, it was difficult to tell which vaccine site was hurting the most or which vaccine might have made me feel like a zombie. This time, Shingrix was the only injection that I received. And it hurt. I spent Thursday, on the couch, nauseous. The positive side of this? Shingrix is replacing the Chicken Pox vaccine in the post-transplant re-vaccination procedural. That’s one less live-vaccine that I’ll be receiving in September!

I learned some things while feeling half-dead on the couch:

One – It’s okay to rest. It’s something that I should have done more frequently after relapse in 2017, but, for various reasons, I was unable to.

Two – There are many, beautiful things in my life. We may not have New Hampshire’s Black-Eyed Susans in our ditches, but we do have these:

blue flower

It’s Biblical-sounding, but you do reap what you sow. In my particular case, it’s Johnny Jump-ups descended from the hanging baskets that my parents gave me last summer.

Johnny

Johnny, obviously, has not had an easy life. He looks a bit beat-up. He doesn’t let it get him down, though; every morning, Johnny wakes up, and soaks up the sunshine.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. Thank you for all of the prayers, love and light that you send my way. This week, I will be having a Bone Density Scan (it’s a fairly common exam after cancer treatment). I’ve had one before. It doesn’t hurt. I am, however, feeling anxious about the results.

Bone Density can be affected by many factors, including cancer treatment. Since my relapse in 2017, I’ve had massive doses of Chemotherapy, Localized and Total Body radiation, Ovarian Failure (did you know that Estrogen is essential to a woman’s bone health?). I will admit to being afraid that my once-a-day, calcium supplement and my Hormone Replacement Therapy have not been enough to counteract the side-effects of all of these (ironically) life-saving toxins. Of course, we’ll see what the scan reveals, and make a plan to deal with whatever the results are. Until then, please continue sending prayers, light, and love. Thank you.

And, to leave you on a positive note, here are some pictures of our newest (and youngest) backyard visitor:

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With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Gone Adventuring

Castle gardens

My husband and I spent the Fourth of July in the Thousand Islands—which are as beautiful as they are fabled to be. We spent the actual holiday on the St. Lawrence river, on a friend’s boat. We witnessed Boldt Castle’s fireworks from the water.

fireworks BC

On July 5th—after having brunch with a beloved friend and his significant other (both of whom I had not seen in ten years!)—my husband I played tourist. We took a one-hour boat tour of the St. Lawrence; our tour guide directing our attention to various multi-million-dollar homes built along the river. Our tour guide, with rather bad jokes, recited historical facts and the names of the present-day property owners. The boat deposited us on Heart Island, where we walked through the stunning Boldt Castle.

Boldt Castle

Instead of describing our trip in great detail, Dear Readers, I have decided to share some of the lessons that I learned during our adventure:

  1. If you’re not 100% certain of what someone’s name is, combine their name with a similar-sounding one (i.e. Laura-Lauren). As a new friend informed me, “even if I’m wrong, I’m still right”.
  2. When you least expect it, someone who knows your story and has been waiting to talk to you about their own, might appear. Listen to these people. Learn what they’re trying to teach you. Honor their story the best that you can.
  3. I’ve never noticed this before, but after the brilliance of the fireworks dissipate, the sky wears dark smudges. Both the vibrant colors, and the smudges, tell significant stories. It might even be the same story, from different perspectives.
  4. It’s okay to leave the camera and/or cellphone at home. Being in the moment, actually living it, might just be more important than digitally capturing it. And, if it turns out that you need a picture for a blog post, just steal one of your husband’s.
  5. Bad jokes, like our tour guide’s jokes, are often the best jokes.
  6. Enjoy the white lights and birch branches decorating the restaurant you visit for dinner. Appreciate these little, artistic touches.
  7. And, sometimes, when a literary agent gives you a “no” on your latest fiction manuscript, view it as a new traffic pattern—directing you to where you are needed the most—instead of as a defeat.

This coming week, Dear Readers, is a busy one—including a trip to Boston. I am hoping that my transplant doctors will remove more medications from my list. Please continue to send prayers, light, and love. They do have a positive impact.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Not Humpty Dumpty

LP Iris and maple

A couple of weeks ago, I told you about my oncology follow-up appointment. It was at this visit that my oncologist said, “We did terrible things to you, and now it’s time to put Laura back together again.”. This declaration still resonates with me, still gives me hope that I can live a healthy, fulfilling, well-rounded life. It makes me believe that all of my broken pieces can be reassembled.

I equated myself to Humpty Dumpty in that blog post…and I shouldn’t have. Nursery Rhymes, Fairy Tales, they all have a melancholy, darker (usually forgotten) side to them.

According to Project Gutenberg (which shares literature that is out of copyright and now considered public domain!), the nursery rhyme featuring Humpty Dumpty goes something like this:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the King’s horses

And all the King’s men

Cannot put Humpty together again.

The rhyme appears exactly as it did in childhood. The real surprise is that the rhyme is attached to a story, and appears at the end of that narrative.

In L. Frank Baum’s rendition of Mother Goose in Prose (illustrated by Maxfield Parrish), Humpty Dumpty is one of the twelve eggs laid by the cunning, Speckled Hen. To summarize/paraphrase, Mama Hen leaves the nest to grab a bite to eat, and, during her absence, her wily eggs begin to kick each other for more room. Humpty is, by far, the largest egg in the nest and he’s balancing on the edge of it. Thus, when his siblings start misbehaving, he’s pushed completely out of the nest. Fortunately, for Humpty, there’s a haystack below the nest.  He rolls down it, settling on the barn floor (in one-piece).

Humpty, on the barn floor, can see the world beyond the barn’s doors. It’s beautiful!

English Roseum New Growth

He wants to see it, so he saunters (my word, not Baum’s) across the barn floor. He meets another egg—from the Black Bantam’s nest—and they set off to explore the world together. Eventually, they arrive at a large, stone wall. They can’t climb the wall, but they find a hole to squeeze through.

garden door

On the other side of the wall, is the King’s castle, lush gardens, and a pond. The eggs want to visit the birds swimming in the pond, but they cross the road at an inopportune time. As they start walking across the road, the King and his men come riding through. Humpty is able to avoid injury, but his friend is slower, and is crushed by a horse. He sits by the roadside, mourning her death.

The princess finds Humpty and gives him a tour of the gardens and the majestic palace.

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When her father and his men return home, the princess takes Humpty to the top of the gates to watch the entourage’s arrival. Humpty, sitting in a groove in the stone wall, forgets where he is, leans forward to see more, and plummets to his death.

pink flowers

Back in the palace, the King is surrounded by his men—many of whom want to ask for the princess’s hand in marriage. The King senses that he’ll make enemies if he chooses a suitor, so he declares that the princess will only marry the man that can stump him with a riddle. Every man fails—except for the last one. The princess, when no one is paying attention, gives this young man the riddle of Humpty Dumpty. The king cannot guess who or what Humpty was, and so the princess and the young man are married. It’s a happy marriage, as the pair are already in love.

Baun’s tale concludes, “And thus did Humpty Dumpty, even in death, repay the kindness of the fair girl who had shown him such sights as an egg seldom sees.”.

pink flowers 1.0

So, Dear Readers, comparing myself to Humpty Dumpty, was a wildly, inaccurate analogy.

First, I am not a runaway egg.

Second, I did not fall off of a wall.

Third, I do not need all of the King’s horses and men to put me back together again.

I need God. Doctors. Counselors. My husband and our fur babies. Family. Friends. Healing is multifaceted, because we are complex creatures. Sure, you can extricate the cancer and stitch up the wounds—but it won’t heal the spiritual being, the emotional being.

And, that, restoring one’s soul and self-worth, might just be the hardest part of recovery.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. Please continue to send prayers, light and love. I am on the upswing—which is a relief—but there is still work to be finished and goals to be accomplished. Yes, it is a new chapter, but, as any reader or writer can tell you, every chapter has its own charms, problems, and plot twists. I’m hoping for only good things.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura