Change is a good thing

8 months later....

It was Nov 2020 that David's diagnosis landed upon him, and I can now see David circling back to himself. It's been quite the journey. When I look back, I can see all the new coping mechanisms we added to our skills toolbox, and how clearly David pushed through it all without complaint or doubt. And now, fast forward to post recovery of cancer treatment, and he's living life and making up for lost time when reality took him away from himself. He's back. He's making limitless to-do lists each weekend. It's not just a piece of paper with black marks on it. No, it's his record of how far he's come. Health is a crown, and he's wearing it proudly. 

So here we are, full circle. I've seen this coming, as his transition has been a daily practice of baby steps. It warms my heart to see him back doing the things he loves to do - and wants to do. It was easy to take life for granted before 2020. Now we know that everything we do and experience is a gift. His mantra of 'you don't get it til you get it' aluminates from his soul and has changed the lens from which he sees. His new level of self-awareness has boosted his life to one of knowing that any morning could be the last time you brush your teeth. And with that said, let's do things. What are we waiting for. 

There's hiking....

Hike Life

There's kayaking.....

Doesn’t get better than this

Then there's work (painting, lots of painting)

Never a shortage of painting opportunities 

There's never a lack of things to do on a farm. The fact that David can do these things again is the miracle. We took it all for granted. Now we know better. One of my favorite things we've been doing together is our bike rides, and each time we are out riding I look over at him and can't believe that we are there together doing these things again. God is good. No, wait, God is great. We give it all to Him.

Horse Play

One of the things that's been amazing is watching David with the mini horses. 

Hope needs him. Men have not been good to her in
her harsh past life. 

He is so good with the mini’s, and he doesn’t even know it

Dora and Hope are like any other farm animal that is struggling with fly season. It's awful this year - and started early. And what's odd is how Dora's body handles flies vs Hope's body. We are able to control the flies with Dora by sprays and ointment as needed. That, along with the hundred fly traps in the barn. Hope, on the other shoe, is easily harmed by them, and we have to watch for sores and hot spots and treat them early. David and I decided on a fly mask for Hope, and it's working well, as the flies were really working hard on her sweet face. 

David has been spending time with both Dora and Hope, and has found his own way with each of them. It's so beneficial for both David and I to take time with the mini's. There are each very gentle and sweet in their own way. Hope and Dora adore each other and have developed a very tight bond with each other.

Hope looks like a horse superhero
with her fly mask on. She so fly.

It's like The Golden Girls minus 1. They fuss sometimes, and then the next minute, they are grooming each other. I'm so glad they have found their way to each other in life. They each have something to give in their relationship. It's a privilege to be able to care for them, as I learn more from my farm animals than I could ever possibly list. Forgiveness, resiliency, and being in the moment. What trust looks like, how to exercise patience, and just how important it is to play. 

So let's play

Maybe is always All In!

Ever since we took the wild Mallard ducklings to Hagerman Wildlife Refuge weeks ago, we were smitten with everything about the place. We recently took our kayaks out there and enjoyed some quiet time on the silky smooth waters watching birds of every shape, size and sound. There we were, in the middle of their world. 

Are you sure this is safe

Dogs are allowed there, as are boats on the water, and fishing and hunting is allowed. The fishing and hunting part is so hard for me to wrap my head around, but it's true. The place is open 365 days a year from dawn to dusk. There's hiking trails and plenty of mosquitos. 

Of course, we took The Littles. It was their first time in a kayak, and while Maybe is a natural adventurer, Sugar needed a little time to decompress from the excitement and had to have a mid-kayaking nap in the shade. 

💤 

This was one of our July 4th adventures. We ventured out on new-to-us county roads this weekend, and we also released turtles to new homes with a total rehoming turtle count of 17. Trying hard over here to give the fish in our pond a fighting chance to survive. 

Hell's Kitchen

Yeppers, we are still in no-kitchen mode.

Drying over here 

It's a slow process, so it seems anyway. Yet, if the moon, stars and sun line up properly, we will have countertops installed this week. The cabinets are painted and are now dry. The drying took about as long as it took me to run across the state of Tennessee. And just about as hot, as we actually had to open the windows a few days and nights in the process. 

We are ready for you

The countertop guy has our quartz ready for install, and we are ready because that also means that our kitchen sink will be installed and then I can stop washing the dishes in the shower or bathroom sink. I think what I've realized is that it's not just about not having a kitchen or kitchen sink. It's that the breakers/fuses to the kitchen outlets (which are turned off until the electrician comes to install the outlets, which is not soon) are those same breakers that are attached to my laundry room light, some outlets in there - and the dining area, too. So when dusk comes and it gets dark, I better have my flashlight to do laundry or to see things in the dining area. It's a mini $hit show for sure. I remind myself daily that it's worth the wait. I've been thinking about just selling the house and moving somewhere where there's a kitchen and lights. But I think that's just my impatience shining bright. Simmer down, Cyndi.

Whose singing a new tune

Turns out, I gave my 2 weeks notice last week. As a recap, it was over 3 years ago that I went from working for the doctors in the operating room to working for them in their medical office/practice. And as of Friday, I will no longer be doing that. I could go on and on and tell you why and sound bitter and whiny. So instead I will tell you that I realized that I was wrong to have made that career change. And since being wrong feels just like being right, in the moment, I thought I was right, when I was actually wrong.

Once I made amends with myself about staying somewhere that I knew better about, I gave myself a little self-compassion and self-forgiveness. The administration at this practice showed me who they were from the beginning.....I just didn't believe it. Yes, I know better, therefore I will do better and move on. When someone shows you who they are, you should believe it, and Oprah preaches this day in and day out. Instead, I denied it, but my intuition and knowing saved me, and I finally listened. I'm going to move forward in life and consider it failing forward. Hopefully, I will make a better choice next time. The hardest part for me is that the doctors there are amazing and talented. I will miss most of them. 

I'm now holding myself accountable for this chapter in my life, and they will hold themselves accountable for their own selves. I'll stay in my lane and look ahead at what life will bring. Do I know what that is? Do I ever know what that is? No, not really. That's what makes life such an adventure. I'm excited about the discovery of what's next, the hope, and listening to my heart and my inner knowing - and following that. I'm busy over here embracing the person I'm becoming, and I can because it's my business (thank you, Tabitha Brown). Onward, my friends. What's the first thing I did once I gave my notice? I signed up for an Ironman triathlon in Augusta, Georgia. I'm feeling like myself again, and between David and I both feeling ourselves these days, we are cruising on the Autobahn of Life. After all, at my last visit with my own oncologist, my numbers are looking a little better, even though I had to have a phlebotomy. It's all part of the polycythemia vera process. I'm feeling good, and that's what matters at this moment. 

I'll leave you with little Brooks learning to clap his hands. 

Watching children learn is like being able to see straight through to their little brain and watch their neurons firing away. He's now learning to pull up to a stand, and I hope Lauren and Ryan are eating their Wheaties to keep up with this little guy. 

Skies not even the limit,

Cyndi

Most grateful