Mom (aka Memaw)

When I was little, I always thought my mom the superhero sort.

I was in high school when my mom got cancer. She had a mastectomy and underwent chemotherapy and radiation treatments. I remember coming home from school and she would be laid up in bed, not feeling well. All this, and I was immune to the gravity of the situation – I think, because she was my MOM. She was like a super freakin’ hero. She knew everything and could do anything. (Certainly, she would never die.) And anyway, that sort of drama didn’t happen to our family.

wow - that seems really naive now.

But you know what - she beat that cancer.

My mom has cancer again. We are all just taking it one day at a time. Waiting for and focusing on receiving that next piece of information, and, direction. So, yesterday we received more news that I think, honestly, we were all kind of expecting. But you know when you hear it, when you get that confirmation it suddenly becomes “real”? (They found cancer in her lymph nodes.)

At this point, that’s all I really know.

"When we were children,

we used to think that when we were grown-up

we would no longer be vulnerable.

But to grow up is to accept vulnerability...

To be alive is to be vulnerable."

(Madeleine L'Engle)

Have you seen my puppy?

About 2+ years ago, my youngest, and only daughter out of five, Drew (now 9) goes shopping with her own money (probably birthday money or something).. and we’re in Hobby Lobby and she sees this stuffed schnauzer on the shelf costing pretty much all she had in her pocket.. but she’s hesitant because she’s already picked something else out that she dearly wants. So I’m like, “one or other.. let’s go..” and she’s just torn over the decision.

Now, Drew is the sort that will look into those two shiny beaded eyes of any stuffed animal and connect with it’s… well, not with it’s soul – but connect, nonetheless. So I tell her, “put the pup down and if you can walk away without worrying over it, then you know which item you want.” So she lays the pup on the shelf at her eye level and makes that “connection”. As soon as she walks away from it, tears begin pouring from her eyes. Decision made.

A year later she's still dragging that pup, now named Zoey, everywhere. Eventually she looses it, and my hunch is she laid Zoey down somewhere in WallyWorld and inadvertently left her there (well, this is the last place I recall seeing Zoey.)

End of story?

Nope.

She searches high and low for that pup only to cry herself to sleep night after night. Sympathetic to her misery, and maybe even slightly exhausted by it, we go back to Hobby Lobby in search of a replacement. By this time, it’s been more than a year since we first purchased Zoey, but low and behold a shelf full of Zoey’s remains. This time… we get TWO! Only she doesn’t name it Zoey or even Zoey Jr., no - she names them Chloe and Joey. So… she's STILL missing Zoey!!

It’s been more than a year since purchasing “replacements” Chloe and Joey, and STILL she cries for Zoey! Sometimes it's a rough night with the tears streaming and other nights it's just that quiet, lone tear trickling down her cheek. Just this week she made another one of her “Missing” posters. “Have you seen Zoey?” and “Please come home Zoey, I miss you”. How pathetic is this, I ask you?

Okay. Plan B!

Yesterday, I went to Hobby Lobby – by myself this time, and more than TWO years since purchasing the first Zoey. And, you guessed it, there is ONE more Zoey in the whole dang store. Is this a sign?? So now, I’m going to lug this pup around - secretly, wearing it out and washing and drying it only to dirty it again (how long is this going to take?). Then, I’ll place this pup in that crack between the washer and dryer, so that eventually she’ll miraculously (or... well, maybe somewhat orchestrated by yours truly) be reunited with her long lost Zoey. Ta daaaa!

Pray for me.

Drew and the original, one and only, Zoey!