Lost in the Woods

It was a nice day and I decided that Lady and I had been on the Longfellow Creek Trail too many times lately.  We could do the neighborhood walk along the street.  That would be an hour walk and we hadn't done that in awhile.  Then I thought about a place I hadn't been in years. We could walk a short way to where I went with Byron the dog all the time.  There used to be a trail there and it led to a space where the sun shone through the trees which I called  "the chapel".  I would sit on a log and pray in a spot where God helped me through my darkest times.  These days I use it in my memory to talk to Jesus.  Ready to take the road less traveled, Lady and I crossed the winding street to enter the Puget Creek trail.

It looked a little overgrown and muddy at first but there was a thin trail.  I figured I knew the way and felt up to the challenge.  After all we could turn around if things got too bad and go home.    I knew there was a creek down far below but there was so much foliage that I couldn't even see it.  Much of the trail had eroded into the ravine. Okay, I've walked in mud before and I knew about the creek below but if I was very careful, I would make it, right?  We squished along and made our way.  An unfamiliar  large fallen tree stood in the path and we inched our way around it.  We came near to "the chapel" but it had changed.  There was no place to sit but I could see the sun through the trees.  I stood there for a bit soaking in the beauty and then it was time to go back the way we came.  We got to the felled tree and then tried to take the trail as we found it.  We must have taken a wrong turn or maybe that trail wasn't as wide as we thought.  Soon there was no trail, only blackberry bushes.  I tried following Lady thinking she would find the trail but all we found were short paths with dead ends. We were on the opposite side of the creek that we'd started on (how did that happen?).  I tried breaking through the bushes with my body and tried to use Lady's leash as a tool.  It was getting to be time to pick up Mr. D from work.   Cell phone in hand I called and told him both where we were and that I would call again if we didn't get home in time.  We made our way through the thorns and the mud with me falling several times.  It was so hard to get back up because there were only thorny branches to help lift me up.  I wished that I was in better condition and could get up without using my hands.  When I realized there was no way that I could pick up my husband on time I called him and said that I might be calling 911 to get out. I thought we were close to the road because I could see power lines.  We came to a place about 10 feet from the power lines where the blackberry bushes became very dense, too thick to make it through.  I fell once more and was too exhausted to get up. I knew then that we weren't getting out of there without help.

The following is my call, not an exact replication:

 "911, what is your emergency?"
"I'm lost in the woods and can't find my way out."
"What is the street address?"
"I don't know, I'm lost.  I'm by some power lines near Puget Creek."
"What do you think the police can do for you?"
"I don't think I need the police.  I need the fire department."
"Okay, I'll transfer you to the fire department."

Fortunately they were able to get within yelling distance by tracking my cell phone signal.  I yelled back at them and shook some bushes to help them find me.  All through this my faithful dog was with me.  She started growling when we heard there voices but we convinced her that they were the good guys.  As one of the firefighters made his way to me with a machete he said, "I feel like Micheal Douglas" (Remember Romancing the Stone?).  To my surprise we were not by the road.  I was taken by the hand and we walked gingerly up the unstable hill to the fire truck.  They kept on encouraging Lady up the hill as she kept coming back down and checking on my welfare.  We finally made it to street and truck.  They offered to take us back in the fire truck and exhausted I took them up on it. I'd never ridden in a fire truck before.  It's one giant step up and one giant step down.  I got in first and Lady followed.  They took us home.  Muddied, scratched up, and full of stickers, I showered and collapsed on the bed.

I have this saying, "God doesn't protect from stupid," but that doesn't keep him from being with me while I'm dealing with the consequences of foolhardy decisions.  He's there the whole time guiding me home.

The Energy Bank and Marriage

My last check-up with the oncologist went well, no evidence of disease.  I have my last four month check in February and then we move to every six months.  I feel well and have lots of energy, unlike when was going through cancer treatment.  Then I had to space things out because there was only so much energy to be had.  Withdraw too much from the energy bank and there would be none.  It made me prioritize.

This September Mr. D fell and broke dominant left shoulder and his right elbow.  The elbow injury was merely a crack but the shoulder injury required two-hour surgery.  At first both his arms were in slings and I had to do many of his self-care tasks.  He wasn't allowed to lift more than a coffee cup with either hand.  We share the housework and he couldn't help.  He also slept a lot.  Thus I was reminded of the energy bank.  At first even going to the doctor was exhausting for him.  We could go to the store but we had to keep the energy bank in mind.  Too much time led to exhaustion.  Now almost a month post surgery he is doing much better.  He still can't lift much but he can do dishes and cook.  He sleeps a more normal schedule.  He still can't withdraw more from the energy bank than is available but he has more reserves.  He starts physical therapy this week.

All this has led me to think about how precious life is and how it can be taken away in an instant.  Mr. D is my love, my life-partner.  I have promised to be with him for better and for worse and in sickness and in health.  We've been through both the for poorer and for richer.  He's been through my sickness and health. The longer I'm married the more my vows mean something.  At marriage they were just words for a future I was clueless about.  The longer I'm married the more I love this man.

Mrs. Dermody, Language Police

The other day one of my customers told me she was proud of me.  I was puzzled and asked her what she meant.  She said that she has watched me since I returned to work a year ago. Her husband has been in remission and has gone through cancer treatment and she was pleased at how well I was doing.  I told her that  there wasn't anything that I had done to make me well again.  Others have fought the same battle and have lost. I still survive and don't feel special just grateful.  I just played the hand I was dealt.

The language police part of me that wanted to take the compliment apart.  I looked up the definition of pride in Dictionary.com which says that "It may refer to an affectionate admiration or a justifiable pride concerning someone else."  Oh, that's what she meant, an affectionate admiration.  I was more thinking along the lines of justifiable pride like when I'm proud of my kids. Okay, thanks, which is what I should have said in the first place.

Life is drama

There is a lot of drama in life. There are times that I feel like I need to keep putting out fires if only I could. You see, I can't control peoples lives and that is frustrating when I see people hurting. If only I could help everyone get a job who needs one, heal the sick, and heal broken relationships. The first is one that others are better at than I and the last two are the province of God. My sister-in-law is having vision problems and she is an avid reader. My mother-in-law just finished her course of chemotherapy. My next door neighbors are having volatile fights next door. A priest I admired is being sued by an adult man for having an improper sexual relationship with him under the guise of therapy which be harder to believe if I didn't know the young man involved. I don't know what really happened in that case and I am so glad that I am not judge and jury. The only helpful thing I know to do is to pray. Last night when everything was pressing around me I happened upon this reading from Isaiah 49: 15-16 NAB:

"Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name" It gave me comfort and I said a rosary for my fighting neighbors.