Name My Neurosis

"What people are ashamed of usually makes a good story."  

 - F. Scott Fitzgerald -

If that quote holds true, then have I got a story for you.  One of my many neurosis is obsessing with the reflection of objects in magazine ads, photos, etc.  Rather than just looking at the photo, my eyes go directly to the reflective surface in hopes to find a photographer along side his crew in a tidy studio looking back at me.  Of course, with all of the shiny, pretty things, this season is a particularly difficult time of year for me. 

Now this problem is not only limited to what I've just described, but it also includes an annoyance that sets in whenever I watch television.  I'd like to take a moment to personally thank my Dad for pointing out that actors never take an actual bite of that burger or sandwich and the coffee cups they hold & pretend to sip from are always empty and visibly weightless.  I take note of these things every time I see it happen.

What a beautifully clean ladle.

Side note:  My disease cannot be named Roachaplakia as that was deemed in my 7th grade science class as the "inability to write cursive and restricted to printing only in capital letters," much to the dismay of Mr. Holbrook, as this caused a handicap in the speed of tedious note-taking.

This Charming Little Man

Life with a 4 year old preschooler is, well, non-stop.  It begins in the wee hours of the mornin’ (that’s how he says it) with the scurrying of little feet coming down the hall (a foreboding to the cat that he is about to be inadvertently pounced upon if he doesn’t move quickly) and the announcement that the day has arrived and Tyler is ready to own it.  This energy continues throughout the entire day, accompanied by endless curiosity, questions and parental refereeing. 

Despite the constant minor destructive path he leaves behind, I love how he listens to all kinds of music and is seemingly driven by instinct to get up and dance and/or sing along. He’s just as happy in the kitchen baking delicious confections as he is admonishing the Joker in his best Batman voice while building a Batcave out of blankets.

Who will dance...on the floor...in a round?

As if I needed one more reason to love my little Tyler, I happily added another to the list this morning.  We arrived at pre-school and after he got out of the car he met up with another little classmate.

“Hi Leah, (without even a slight pause) you look beautiful.”

I sat there and watched them as they skipped their way up to the front door, proud as ever.

Back On Track

I’ve said it before, but I love little ironies in life.  A friend of mine will send me a message when she’s discovered a great new video clip, book, or music.  A few weeks ago she encouraged me to check out the song “My Body” by Young the Giant.  That same day I received the news from a different friend that his doctor was 99% sure he had lymphoma, biopsy pending.  He’s a young (much younger than me) ambitious little $&@!, who went head first into law enforcement as a career the moment he was legally able without violating child labor laws.  While waiting for his scheduled biopsy he asked me all the same questions that I once had, mentally preparing for the unfavorable diagnosis and the possibility of chemotherapy.  I knew that no matter what the outcome would be, he was going to be fine.  Aside from youth being an advantage, there is no way he would not fight an ailment with all his might.  Waiting for the biopsy to happen is an agonizing time, a time of not knowing what is going on inside you and what will happen next.  After what seemed like months, the day of his biopsy arrived and his surgeon removed a mediastinal lymph node from his chest and explained that it had many indications that it was not lymphoma.  The biopsy results were negative, and he was instead diagnosed with Sarcoidosis, something that he’ll live with the rest of his life, receiving treatment only if symptoms require it.  Finally, take a deep breath, close your eyes and rest, and when you wake up you can carry on.

Last week I learned that my neighbor who has been fighting cancer for several months has taken a turn for the worse.  He has tumors throughout his body, growing at a rapid pace.  He’s an older gentleman and over the years he’s kindly offered me gardening advice.  During my chemotherapy, his wife knocked at my door one day and greeted me with a dozen jars of their homemade grape juice.  Side note:  Apparently grapes are little mold-spore factories and I was told by my nurse that given the compromised state of my immunities unless I was going to peel each individual grape I should avoid them.  Naturally, being told not to have something made me crave it even more. When everything tasted like chemicals and the food I once enjoyed seemed ruined, this was absolute nectar and I’ve always been grateful to them for their caring gesture.  Back to my neighbor, he has made the decision to continue in a dignified and graceful route by way of hospice care.  I can’t begin to imagine the strength it took to make the most difficult decision of his life, for his life.  At the same time, what an amazing moment that must be, to be at peace with your own soul and knowing that when you go on to the next world you're going to be just fine.

Each time you act in spite of your fear, you discover even greater, deeper courage.

-Art Berg-

I don’t have a good segue to the rest of this post, it’s more or less just a few pictures of a recent outing with the offspring. 

Union Pacific Railroad Steam Locomotive No. 844

Photo taken by my dad around 1979

Challenger No. 3985  Pages Lane crossing 1982

I always remember my Grandpa wearing his Engineer cap.  This is the only photo I could find of him in it.

That smile goes from ear to ear.