It's Been Crazy Busy Around Here

Black Forest Fire Evacuations Hit Close to Home

In my last post, on June 12, I wrote about the Black Forest Fire here in the Colorado Springs area.  We could see the smoke from the fire about ten miles from our home.  We were never in danger, but many that we know were impacted by this devastating fire.  14, 280 acres were burned, 509 homes were destroyed, and 28 were damaged.  The fire also caused the death of two people who were unable to escape from their home.  For days, there was an ominous, heavy feeling in the air that surrounded us.  The air felt heavy and dark.  Not a lot of smoke seemed to drift into the part of the city where we live.  It seemed to be pushed to the north of us with the winds that came with the dry, hot air.

On the evening of June 12, my husband's daughter and her family evacuated their home and headed to our home with their cars loaded with those items they felt most important to take with them when their address fell under the category of "voluntary evacuation" status.  Just prior to their evacuation, our next door neighbors' son and his family evacuated to our neighbors' home.  Our neighbors' son lived deeper into the forest than our daughter.  By morning, we learned that his home had been destroyed.  

On Wednesday evening, June 12, I think we all felt that the evacuations in the fire area was a precautionary measure.  There was a sense of the conflicting emotions of denial and doom that seem to hang about us in the air.  It is hard not feel some anxiety and helplessness when surrounded by those who have been evacuated from home.  As we sat in the living room talking, I suddenly laughed when I glanced at my step-daughter's shirt.  "Interesting choice for fire evacuation wear," I said as I looked at her shirt.  

Laughing, she said, "And guess what song was playing as we drove off?  It was a song I used while I was training to run called Light 'em Up."  We did get a laugh out of that, and it helped to laugh.

When the official fire updates came on the news, we all gathered together in our small guest room to watch the updates on the small television in that room.

Grandson Caleb points to the map for Grandpa Jim to show where the fire is located.

We all piled on the bed so we could be close to each other while we listened to the news.  We have a large room with a large t.v. in the basement, but we chose the small bedroom where we could all be together to listen to the news.  During this time, I was struck with how grateful I was that we had moved to a location closer to our children so we could be there for them.

On Thursday morning, Thia and her family went back to their home hoping that "voluntary evacuation" orders would be lifted.  That afternoon, we all were shocked to hear that their home was now on "mandatory evacuation" orders.  They were soon back at our home.  Finally, on Friday afternoon, they were allowed to go home.  Thankfully, their home was not impacted by the fire in any way.

Unfortunately, this was not the case for neighbors' son.  Their home that sat on five acres was totally destroyed.  The Denver Post published a photo and a wonderful article about our neighbors' son on Saturday.  (Click on the last part of the previous sentence to see the photo and read the article.)  As you can imagine, the fire suddenly became very personal to us as we watched this wonderful family display great grace and courage in the face of devastating loss.  

The Colorado Springs Fire Department produced a fascinating video documenting how they approach protecting a home that is threatened by fire.  Click on: How firefighters are protecting homes in the Black Forest Fires  to gain a new respect for the professional nature of these heroes.  

Father's Day

On Father's Day, the family gathered again at our home to celebrate one of the greatest fathers ever: my husband.  Truly, he is a wonderful father to his own three daughters and to my five children.  Throughout his career as an educator, he was a father figure to thousands of others over the years.  

This year, all three of Jim's daughters and all ten of his grandchildren came to our home to celebrate the day with us.  We also were happy to include our new next door neighbors the Boone family in our celebration.  Since Steve and his wife were out looking for a home to rent or buy, only Gary and Janie and their two granddaughters were able to join us.  

Our Neighbors
Gary and Janie

It was so great to have a houseful of people.  I always love that.  

Load up your plates

Living in a patio home means that we no longer have a large private backyard when we entertain the family.  That didn't stop us from setting up a table in our new back yard.  It might be small, but that makes it all the more cosy!

Grandpa Jim with his beautiful grandchildren

Grandpa Jim with family and friends.

Daddy and Daughter
Trista, Thia, Trinette, and Jim

Father's Day was not sunny always throughout the  day.  The sky kept threatening rain.  In the afternoon, we all rejoiced because it finally rained.  We needed that rain for the drought and for those fighting the fire.  When it rained, we all moved inside.  We are happy with how well our new home accommodates a large group.

The grandchildren sit & talk & check their phones

Grandpa opens his gifts

Son-in-law Nathan fixes our noisy fan

By the end of the day, Grandpa Jim and I were both exhausted but happy as we watched the last of our visitors drive away.  As he often says as family and grandchildren depart, Jim again said, "I love to see the headlights, but the taillights are even better."  We smile knowing that nothing is better than being surrounded by family.  We miss them when they are gone.  The house seems suddenly so quiet and empty, but at our age, we also know that we need our space, our solitude, and quiet.  It is good when this quiet is broken with a smattering of times of gathering together. It was truly wonderful to have Thia's family with us during the evacuation.  It was the icing on the the cake to follow that time with a Father's Day celebration.

Health Update

Today, Thursday, June 20, Jim and traveled to Denver to consult with a GI specialist  at the University of Colorado Hospital.  I had been referred to this doctor at this facility because of a suspected sphincter of Oddi dysfunction due to chronic pain and elevated lipase levels.  After a very thorough analysis of my medical records, and after speaking with me at length about my episodes of pain, the specialist determined that he would rather not put me through an ERCP to check for this particular dysfunction at this time because the risks at my age of developing serious complications such as severe pancreatitis, diabetes, organ failure, and/or death were too high.  AMEN to that!  I am very much in agreement to his recommendations.  My lipase levels need to be higher before we go down that road.  Less risky explorations need to be done before we go to the more extreme testing.

So, tomorrow, I will be having a EUS and a EUS-FNA instead. There are some risks, 1% for pancreatitis, and 5% for a flare-up of abdominal pain, but I can take those risks.  The procedure is done by endoscopy, this will be my tenth endoscopy, but this time, the endoscopy will be a bit more detailed and intricate.  I am not looking forward to going through this, but at least I know what to expect and have certainly been through many endoscopies before.  

I hopefully be bringing you all a good report filled with good answers next week.  Send your prayers my way. I am sending my thanks to all of you in advance for your support during this time.  

Fires in Colorado Springs

Twenty-one years ago today, I married the love of my life.  

Jim on our 21st Anniversary
Colorado Fine Arts Center

We've both changed a lot since our wedding day.

Wedding Day
June 12, 1992

We've been together

in sickness

and 

in health, 

for richer,

for poorer,

and 

we hope we have many more years 

before 

"death do us part."

21st Anniversary
Fine Arts Center

On Mother's Day, Jim had arranged a special brunch for the two of us at the Fine Arts Center.  Since I was in the hospital, I took a rain check.  Today, he made good on his word and took me to the Fine Arts Center for lunch.  We dined on  wonderfully prepared salmon,  risotto croquettes, and asparagus. For dessert, Jim had turtle dessert pie and I had a lemon raspberry gelato.  I wore the necklace he gave me for Mother's Day.  After lunch, we went through the Arts Center to see some of the wonderful displays.  I always love going to this treasure of a place in Colorado Springs.  There are several Chihuly  works here, a portrait of William Palmer's daughter by William Singer Sargent and some wonderful pieces of Van Briggle pottery that I never tire of seeing.  While at the cafe in FAC, I stepped out on the veranda to take a photo of my beloved Pikes Peak and the grounds surround the Art Center and part of Monument Valley Park.  This part of Colorado Springs, is one of my favorite spots.  I love the junipers and Colorado blue spruce and the ponderosa pines that dot the area.

Despite the happy occasion, the situation just north of us was heavy on our minds.  Fire was burning in the Black Forest just fifteen to twenty miles from where we celebrating our anniversary.  Family members had been evacuated from their homes, and other family members were on alert and ready to leave their homes if necessary.

After lunch, I had Jim drive us to the top of Palmer Park which was a favorite picnic spot from my youth.  I wanted to get to the top of this bluff to see the scope of the fire to the north of us.

This photo does not give one the best view of the fire, but nevertheless, as a native to this region, I was shocked at how wide the range of the fire appeared to be.  This area where I went to take these photographs used to be the northern edge of the populated area of Colorado Springs when I was a child.  This bluff, now in the more center part of the city, was where we would go to watch the fire works on the 4th of July when I was a child.  The landscape, dotted with wonderful sandstone bluffs, pine trees, scrub oak, and yucca is dry.  It served as a reminder that this region is a dry tinderbox; truly it is as Wikipedia's definition states: tinderbox refers to something that is so dry that it could catch on fire with the slightest provocation, perhaps even spontaneously like a forest fire.  

Yucca growing in Palmer Park,
Colorado Springs, Colorado

Yucca pods
A few buds are on the plant to the left

Yucca should bloom in June.  I remember so many rides to this area in the spring to see this hillside in bloom.  It was one of my favorite sights.  We are experiencing a late spring here because of cold weather, and rain.  Despite this late spring with some moisture, we are still in a drought.  You can see how dry this ground is.  Any moisture that it received did not do a lot of good.

A few yucca plants were in bloom.

 I hope to come back next week to see if the yucca are in bloom.  If so, the photo below will look different.  I remember many more yucca plants in this area when I was a child.  Now this area has limited access so that the wild flowers can be more protected.  

As many of you know, the Colorado Springs area suffered another wild fire last year in June.  You can read my blog post about that event here: Fire, Smoke and Rain.  This year's fire is north of where we live by about ten miles.  As my husband and I drove home from our lunch date, I had him stop at a church parking lot that is just two miles from our home so I could take a photo of the fire.  It is hard to imagine the scope of the size of this inferno that now seems to fill the horizon of the northward view from our part of town.   As I sit here and type, I know the air is filled with smoke because in the protection of my air conditioned house, I am beginning to have difficulty breathing.  I fear for those who suffer from asthma much worse than I do.  

As I reflect on the events of this day in my beloved Colorado Springs, Helen Hunt Jackson comes to mind.  I recalled reading her essay Bits of Travel at Home.  When I first read this essay, I tried to envision what this town must have been like when she first came here. I tried to imagine what my hometown was like when my grandfather's grandmother (or my great-great grandmother) came here in about 1894.  Thankfully, Helen Hunt Jackson recorded through her writing much of what this pristine beautiful area looked like over a hundred years ago when it was first settled.  

She described the the "Divide" north of town.  At first I had a hard time determining what she was writing about when she wrote: Looking northward over this sea-plain, one sees at the horizon a dark blue line.  Then, as I read on: This is the “Divide,” —another broad-spreading belt of table-land. lifting suddenly from the plains, running from east to west, and separating them. Its highest point is eight thousand feet above the sea, and is crossed by the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. On its very summit lies a lake, whose shores in June are like garden-beds of flowers, and in October are blazing with the colors of rubies and carnelians.*  I realized that she was writing about The Black Forest and Monument Hill.  

This beautiful forest, the one I always loved is burning.  I can barely continue to write.  I am overcome with emotion.  Tears are falling down my face.  I always wanted to live there, but my mother, who lost her home to fire as child in Woodland Park would never even entertain the idea of living in what she called a "tinderbox."  I weep for those who will never again live in its beauty because the trees and their homes are gone.  I weep and pray.  I pray these fire stop.  I pray for rain. 

Thankfully, Jim and I just drove up into this area on Sunday and I had a chance to drink in the beauty of the Forest.  I am overcome with grief for those who have lost their homes.  I am overcome with grief for the loss of this once pristine area.  As I remember and grieve, I thank Helen Hunt Jackson for preserving the majesty and beauty of this area for us with her words:

It is a gracious and beautiful country the Divide, eight or ten miles in width and seventy long, well wooded and watered, and with countless glens and valleys full of castellated rocks and pine groves. All this one learns journeying across it; but, looking up at it from Colorado Springs, it is simply a majestic wall against the northern sky,—blue, deep. dark, unfathomable blue, as an ocean wave might be if suddenly arrested at its highest and crystallized into a changeless and eternal boundary. It is thirty or forty miles away from us; but in every view we find our eyes fastening upon it, tracing it, wondering how, not being built of lapis lazuli or clouded sapphire, it can be so blue. It is the only spot in our glorious outlook which is uniform of color. Sunsets may turn the whole north sky golden yellow, and the afterglow may stretch rosy red the entire circle round, while the plains below fade from . brilliant sunlight to soft, undistinguishable gray; but the wall of the Divide remains always of its own unchanging blue. Storms sweep over it, black and fierce, but the blue shows through. Snow covers it and the winter sky arches white above it, but still its forest ranks of pines and firs stand solid, constant blue in the horizon.*

*Bits of Travel at Home ~  Helen Hunt Jackson

A Book Review: And The Mountains Echoed ~ Khaled Hosseini

And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I did not want this book, And The Mountains Echoed, to end.  As I neared the end of the book, I saved the last chapter to read the next evening so I had one more day to look forward to reading one more tale from the master storyteller.  Hosseini is that: the master storyteller.  As I read, I kept thinking what a satisfying read this book proved to be.  It is rare to find a book that satisfies the reader with brilliant writing, a great story woven in a way that does not follow traditional patterns, great character development, and gives insight and understanding to a culture, a people, and a place.  This book does all of that.

Following a pattern of writing that seems to be gaining in popularity, Hosseini uses a collection of short stories to tell his story.  Some writers can accomplish creating a book that is engaging by using this style, and others can not.  Hosseini proves he can tell a good story no matter what style he uses.

I personally love reading masterful short stories that create in-depth character development, create an interesting plot with conflict that does not seem contrived, uses setting as an important part of both character development and development of the theme, and causes the reader to reflect upon the themes and lessons found in the short story.  I believe Hosseini does this in each of his short stories.

He then masterfully weaves all of these stories together to create the larger story of the book.  He creates tension that must be resolved by the end of the book with each new short story.  He uses irony at the end of the story to illustrate the depth of a bond that a brother and sister have despite being separated for a lifetime.

Disappointedly, I found the last chapter in the book the one I least enjoyed.  Perhaps the chapter was not contrived, but it felt like he tied up the ending of the story in a less satisfying way than I hoped that he would do.

When I began some chapters, I wasn't sure I would like the characters, the story, or themes, but in the end, I did with each one except for the last chapter.  Despite this one disappointment in the book, I have rated it with five stars, and have no qualms in stating that this book is amazing.  I loved it.

The book is not anything like The Kite Runner, nor is like A Thousand Splendid Suns, except that it gives us insight into the complex culture of Afghanistan.  It builds our understanding of the Afghan people and how their lives have been affected by the wars in that region.  I am quoting my own review of the Kite Runner and adding it to my review of this book.  And the Mountains Echoed, "is a book that won't let you go. I have not forgotten it, and I most likely won't."  Perhaps, that is the effect all masterful storytellers have on readers.  I won't soon forget this book, its characters, its themes, nor the beauty of the writing.


View all my reviews

The Long Weekend

It began Thursday evening.

Already, everyone I encountered out in the marketplace was saying,

"Have a good weekend."

"And so it begins," I thought.

"Memorial Day Weekend is upon us again."

By Friday, I had a sort of mixed anxiety running through my mind.

I was excited to have 

the long weekend

 that has always signaled the beginning of summer.

I dreaded

 the long weekend

that would forever mark the loss of my beloved daughter.

"You really hit us with a double whammy, Julie," I thought.

"We don't just have one anniversary date of your death.

We have the actual date of your death 

to deal with,

and we have a holiday weekend, when your death occurred

to deal with."

When the greetings came,

"Have a good weekend,"

I simply composed myself and said, "Thank you."

I needed all the good wishes I could get.

Jim asked what I wanted to do for the weekend.

"I think the best plan is to keep busy," I replied.

On Friday,

we went flower shopping and got my small little garden planted.

This year my garden will be pots of flowers.

I supervised the removal of much rock, the roots of Russian sage that invaded the property, and planned in my mind how I would plant the new planting spaces being created around our new home.

Our new gate for the deck.

On Saturday

we went to a matinee at wonderful old theater downtown to see "The Great Gatsby."

We loved it.

On Sunday,

We went to church.

The hymns for the day were just what I need to hear, sing, and ponder.

"ONLY GOD"

Only God can move a mountain; 

Only God can calm a sea.

Only God can heal a wounded spirit...

"O LOVE THAT WILL NOT LET ME GO"

O joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain,

that morn shall tearless be.

A photo of Julie, Amy, and Me
The painted rainbow rock that Julie painted for me when she was a child

During communion, I was renewed in my spirit and thankful that my faith has sustained me through all of the days before and after Julie's death.

I am grateful for the great measure of grace that God has given me throughout all of my days.

After church, Jim and I took daughter Trinette and her husband to the airport.

It was wonderful to see this beautiful couple off to Florida for a small "honeymoon" after all these years of marriage.  Trinette looked so young and beautiful and so excited.

We then went to the cemetery to leave flowers on Julie's grave, and on the grave of my father.

On Monday,

we went to the small little town of Monument just a few miles from our house.

Jim wanted to check out a coffee shop/cafe that was there.

Serrano's was great!

My sister met us there.

We had a wonderful lunch and visit. 

We spent much of the weekend walking in our neighborhood,

sitting on the back deck,

socializing with neighbors,

and enjoying the beauty of the world that surrounds us.

Today,

May 29, 2013

marks the third anniversary of Julie's death.

I'm going to lunch with my dear friend, Linda Button.

Dr. Linda Button
Sally Wessely
presenting at CCIRA Conference 2013

Linda has been there for me as a friend, sounding board, encourager, and sustainer throughout these three long years.  I treasure her friendship.  It is unbelievable that we now live in the same town and attend the same church. I don't know what I'd done without friends like Linda these past three years.

I try to keep my memories of Julie alive and well.

I find that in my mind, Julie belongs to another realm now.

Without my wanting to, I've assigned her to another domain.

She seems to be a part of a life that no longer exists.

A part of me died when Julie did.

Does the death of a child ineluctably cause a part of a mother's heart to die?

There are days when the clouds fill the sky and threaten storms.

In those moments,

I am reminded 

that the sunshine follows the storm,

that rainbows bring hope and symbolize promises,

that with each spring there is new growth.

I've not walled off that broken heart.

I'm allowing it to heal.

I am moving forward.

This weekend,

I focused on

living.

For those of you who wish to remember Julie

I'm adding two videos.

Watch them later in they are too real of reminders of that beautiful woman that we lost.

In Memory of Our Beloved Jules

April 8, 1976 - May 29, 2013

Julie & Mason

Mother's Day 2008

Julie & Hannah

Mother's Day 2008

A Room with a View

This has been my view since Saturday night. The view is great even if the location to obtain this view is not. I'm on the ninth floor of Penrose Hospital. I'm hoping I'm released before I finish writing this blog post. I spent my Mothers's Day here. I spent yesterday here. I've spent half of today here. I'm watching a storm roll over the mountain. After watching folks on the street below my window walk, jog, or bike in the sunshine while I was cooped up inside, I have little hope of feeling "sunshine on my shoulders" if or when I'm released today because rain in in the forecast.

I'm breaking a rule of advice my father always gave me by writing this blog post. "No one wants to hear about your maladies and surgeries," he'd say, but here I go writing of such things even after his advice.  For weeks, I've not blogged much, nor have I done much of anything, because I've been unwell. I've had more medical tests than I've been able to keep track off.

For years, I've had chronic problems with my esophagus and digestive track. After my ninth scope of my esophagus in January, I decided to get a second opinion from the GI doctors at National Jewish Health in Denver. I've been fortunate enough to be a patient at this prestigious hospital  for respiratory problems for the past seventeen years. My wonderful doctor at NJH, an outstanding doctor who has been treating me, caring for me, and listening to me at least once a year since 1996 referred me to their GI docs. Since my initial consult with the new doctor, I've had enough tests to make my head spin: CT scans, ultra sounds, MRI, colonoscopy, and there are more to come.  Unfortunately, I have more than one type of GI problems.

In the meantime, I've continued to have terrible upper right abdominal pain. On this past Saturday evening,  after two days of persistent pain, I had my husband take me to the ER. This was my fourth visit to the ER since Easter. This time, the lipase levels were up high enough to get the doctors' attention in the ER. Thankfully, the surgeon I had consulted just last week for the possible removal of my gall bladder was on duty at the ER. After reviewing my symptoms and my blood work, he determined I should be admitted to the hospital for monitoring, observation, and for further testing.

I was told I would have a HIDA scan  on Sunday.  So, I spent Mother's Day in the hospital waiting for this test.  This meant I had only fluids coming into my body via an IV.  So much for the nice brunch that my husband had made reservations for at the Fine Arts Center.  I was very disappointed, frustrated, and upset that I found myself in the hospital on this special day, but on the other hand, deep down inside, I knew I couldn't eat anything anyway.  Food has just not been agreeing with me.  It hasn't for weeks.  Finally, at about 4:00 in the afternoon on Mother's Day, the doctor, a hospitalist, met with me and told me the test would not happen until the next day. He said I could order anything I wanted from the hospital menu because they wanted to see if I got sick.  (That seems a bit sinister, doesn't it?)  I chose wisely and ate salmon and other low fat options.  Once I finished eating, I was told I would have nothing else to eat until after the test scheduled the next day  for "first thing in the morning."

In reality, I finally had the HIDA at about 1:00 in the afternoon.  The test showed that there wasn't enough criteria to prove the gall bladder was not functioning.  Even before the test, my GI doctor in Denver had told me that based on my symptoms and the MRI, she suspected I had a condition called Sphincter of Oddi.  After having the HIDA, even though the tests showed no remarkable signs of a non-functioning gall bladder, I became quite symptomatic.  My symptoms became worse after I ate my hospital sanctioned low fat dinner, the first meal I'd had on Monday.  By bedtime, I was given morphine for pain.

As predicted when I started the post, I was released to go home after the sun went away and the rain began to come down.  Before I was released, I was advised to talk to my GI doctor at National Jewish Health about having the test and procedure for Sphincter of Oddi done.  As I already knew, this procedure is only done at the University of Colorado hospital in Denver.  I called Dr. M at NJH and told her nurse what was going on. Within an hour, Dr. M was on the phone calling me.  She said, "I'm sending a text to Dr. S at the University Hospital to see you ASAP."  I told her a text sounded pretty impressive.  She laughed and said they were close colleagues and she was sure he would see me as soon as it could be arranged.  In the meantime, she said I was to meticulously follow a fat free diet and go immediately to the hospital for my lipase levels to be checked if my pain got worse.  She said she doesn't want me to get pancreatitis.  Believe me, neither do I.  The pain I've had is bad enough.

So, the testing continues.  I still have no answers, but I believe we are on the right track.  I am grateful that I was fortunate enough to have the wonderful doctors at National Jewish Health looking after my health.  I have never known a place that is more responsive to medical needs or more thorough  in checking for the cause for a problem.  They don't just treat the symptoms.

I am also very fortunate to have great medical care here in Colorado Springs.  The surgeon who was consulted on the gall bladder didn't just jump in and take it out.  He made sure all things were checked out.  My  GI doctors in Colorado Springs were on the case while I was in the hospital.  The PA that has cared for me for years popped in twice to check on me, consult with me, and do her part in getting to the bottom of this, while also bolstering my spirit.  She has always taken so much time with me, listened to me, and treated me with extraordinary care.  Just seeing her smiling face when she appeared at the door of the hospital room and walked to my bedside lifted my spirits.  I felt a friend had come to visit; she was not just someone from the medical profession.

In the meantime, I wait until I can get more answers when I go to the University of Colorado Hospital.  I will not be eating any hamburgers!  I will be meticulous about not eating fat.  I hope I can dodge the bullet when it comes to having anymore attacks before we get to the bottom of this.

One thing is for sure, I had a memorable Mother's Day.  Amazingly, I didn't feel sorry for myself.  I didn't let myself go there.  I felt loved and cared for by my wonderful husband.  I talked with each of my children.  I was visited by a step-daughter.  A pastor from my church came twice to visit and pray with me.  I was cared for by some wonderful nurses who gave up a Mother's Day with their families in order to care for those in the hospital.  And, I had a wonderful view of Pikes Peak in a room all to myself until late last night.

 I am going have my husband take me for that special brunch just as soon as I can eat again.  He's not getting off that easy.  I'll wear the beautiful amber necklace that he gave me for Mother's Day when I finally get to go to brunch.  Isn't it beautiful?

My Mother's Day gift from my hubby -
a beautiful amber necklace.

Unpredictable Seasons

In life

much is unknown.

I once thought I would navigate only smooth waters through life.

Now, why would a mountain girl think that she would sail through life?

I know nothing about the water.

I didn't grow up around it.

I know the mountains.

I know the seasons in Colorado.

I know that mountains can be tough to scale.

 I know that at any time a storm can blow in over the mountain bringing rain, sleet, and snow,

all in one day,

no matter what date is on the calendar.

Pikes Peak from Garden of the Gods
April 21, 2013

Early in my life, before I went to school, I would step outside to look at my beloved mountain,
this very mountain, Pikes Peak, that lived at the end of my street,
to see if I needed to wear a coat to school.
Silly me.
In the morning, I might have seen blue skies behind this peak,
and so I skipped off to school without a coat.
By afternoon, I walked home shivering in the snow I had not seen coming.

Living in the mountains makes you tough.
The air is rarified.
There is not as much of it up here in my neighborhood.
Living in the mountains has taught me that one is not in control of the seasons.

This season of my life has not been an easy one.
Certainly, I never could have expected that when I turned 65,

Celebrating my 65th Birthday

a day I had long looked forward to, (that was because I would no longer have to COBRA my insurance.), that my life would turn upside down just three months later when I lost my dear daughter.

Since that time,
I've needed all the lessons I ever learned in life to take me through this season of grief.
I've learned that grief, like the weather, is very unpredictable.
I've learned that it can make you question everything you ever believed about
life,
faith,
hope,
love,
and
God.

I've learned that you find out who your friends are.
And, I've found out that I have many.
From my friends, the true ones, the ones who have prayed for me,
walked with me, cried with me, and laughed with me,
I've learned what true
compassion,
kindness,
sympathy,
and mercy look like.

I've experienced the grace of God in ways I could never have known if I had not suffered such great loss.

Loss has taught me that
life is precious
and I hope to live it victoriously.

Loss has taught me that faith is the only thing that gets me through the day,
and the only way I will live victoriously is by faith.

I've learned that while there is life, there is hope, but mostly, I learned that
as Rick Warren recently Tweeted,
Optimism is psychological.
Hope is theological.

I've learned that love means a whole lot more than I ever thought it did.
I've learned that I love my children, all of them, more than life itself.

Keicha, Jon, Julie, Mom, Amy, Ryan
Jim's Retirement 2007

I've learned that I never would have made it through these last three years without the love of one person.  That person is the man I married.
He has carried me through it all.

The love of my life

This journey has take a toll on my dear husband,
but he is faithful,
and kind,
and loving.
Thankfully, he has his best friend, the other one besides me,
to one who never asks for anything,
the one who never gets bogged down by grief, loss, sadness, or illness,
to comfort him and bring a smile to his face.

Jim & Boston
His buddy and best friend

And so, in this season of life,
the one we thought would be filled with retirement dreams,
my dear husband and I are experiencing day by day struggles with illness, pain, all those other physical side effects of aging.

The seasons of life are unpredictable.
That is certain.
Since one can never really predict the weather, or the aches and pains of aging,
on good days,
we take off to enjoy the beauty of nature around us.

Jim & Boston walking in the Garden of the Gods

The skies are sometimes threatening, and cloudy, but that does not keep us home.
We are blessed to have such great beauty just several miles from our home.
We've learned that you can't wait for the perfect season, or the perfect day, one must enjoy each day as it comes and give thanks for it.

As a native born mountain girl,
I am taking the lessons I've learned about the seasons to heart.
Spring does not always come when the calendar says it should.
On the 30th of April, we had blue skies, and warm sunny weather for our walk in the neighborhood.

On May 1, I ventured out on the deck to take a photo of our bird bath covered in snow.

One just never knows what to expect from one day to the next with the weather in Colorado!

I am optimistic about the weather.  That is a psychological term that I am applying to the coming days.
I know we will soon have blue skies, and sunny, warm days.

I have hope for the future.
I know I can't predict the future any more than I can predict the weather.
But I have hope.
I have hope because I know who holds my future.
He is the very same One who has held me through all the seasons of my life. 

Boston

Boston,

A city I love,

was the scene of horrific tragedy today.

Boston,

a place where

my family roots run deep.

In 1676.

that is 337 years ago,

my ancestors came to Marblehead, Massachusetts.

The first ancestors in my family to live in this part of America over three hundred years ago. 

They walked the streets of Boston.

They were born, married, and died in places like Cambridge, Salem, and Boston.

Now,

the Boston area is where 

my youngest son, his wife, and my youngest grandson live.

Now,

my nephew, his wife, his daughter, and his son live in this area.

Everyday, my son, my nephew, my daughter-in-law 

travel by train into or through the city to go to work.

My nephew, an architect,  just designed the newly constructed

  Liberty Mutual Bridge in downtown Boston.

He was three blocks from the explosion when it happened.

I find it hard to wrap my head around what happened today.

Whenever I have the chance to visit Boston,

I begin to think it truly is the 

Hub of the Universe

 just as Oliver Wendell Holmes once said it was.

I love everything about the city.

I love the parks,

the historical landmarks,

Dunkin Donuts,

Fenway Park,

The Boston Red Sox,

the crowds,

the people,

Harvard,

the museums,

the art galleries,

the food.

If my grandson is with me, to guide the way, I can navigate the subway system.

I can find landmarks.

I know the train to take to my favorite places.

I know the train to take to get back to my son's home.

I have my favorite places, the ones I must always visit.

I have my favorite restaurants, delis, and bakeries.

I have so many happy memories of the times I have spent in this city visiting my son.

Duck Tour
Boston 2006

I finally made it to Boston in 2006 when my son Jonathan began work on his M.A. at 

Boston College.

Jon & Atticus
Boston College, 2006

At the same time, his wife Samantha was given a full ride to work on her PhD at 

Northeastern University.

Dr. Samantha Christiansen
Northeastern University,
Boston 2011

Whenever I am in Boston, I try to connect with my nephew and his family.

Mini Family Reunion
Quincy, MA
2008

Mini Family Reunion
Quincy, MA
2011

I am so proud of the the educational and professional achievements these young people have had while they have spent time in Boston.

I am grateful for the educational institutions that have educated my son, his wife, 

and my nephew and his wife.

This city,

the city of Boston,

has been good to them.

It truly seems impossible to believe that we are seeing and hearing of such horrific tragedy in this great city.

Those who run the Boston Marathon, 

are premier athletes.

We have many runners in our family.

I know of the determination, the courage, the training, and preparation that is required to run a marathon.

To think that dedicated, courageous runners were maimed today is heartbreaking.

My heart goes out to those innocent bystanders who were killed today, or suffered life changing injuries.

My prayers are with the family who lost an eight year old child.

My prayers are with all those who are in a state of shock because suddenly their lives were turned upside down.

Today, when I first heard the news of what had happened in Boston,

my first thought was of my family.

Were they all ok?

I was nearly sick with worry.

I then thought of the chaos that those involved would confront physically and emotionally.

Immediately, the words of Psalms 46: 1-2

came to mind.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,

though the mountains be moved to the heart of the sea,

It is my prayer that those in distress will be comforted,

given courage and healing,

and that this act will not stop us all from joining each other in celebrating 

life,

liberty,

and the pursuit of happiness

in the public square.

I hope we can continue to celebrate all that this great city has to offer and do so in a manner that reflects the beliefs and values of those early Americans who established this city and the surrounding towns in the hope that their children and all those born in the generations to come would have a place of 

freedom,

opportunity, 

and safety.