A New Year

It's been a good year.  It's been a tough year, too.  Moving from my "home" school of 16 years (thanks, low enrollment) to a new school, new grade level, and new Principal.  But change is good, and I'm really believing it this year.   

I traveled to the East Coast (sorry, Jed) with the human love of my life.

We saw the sights of New England and even New York City.

Acadia National Park was gorgeous.  

Need I say more?

And then there was the food.  I liked the onion rings a whole lot better than the fried clams.  And give me a good ol' ribeye over lobster any day!

Going to the Twin Towers Memorial site was truly a highlight of the trip.  The hardest part of the visit was seeing how many dogs were used in the initial phases of rescue and recovery. It made me cry …

I even got to introduce A. to the Chelsea Market.  Lots of fun -- and sensory overload!

There was family to meet and a wedding to attend.  It was hot.  But I got to see fireflies.  And dance with my sweetheart.

Just before the heat and humidity finally got to me we went home.  But lots of memories of a wonderful non-trailer vacation.

The year didn't end there.  We took several trips in the trailer, enjoying time with friends.  But I realized that those I wanted to spend time with were already with me and I didn't need anyone else to have fun with.

And then there was -- and still is -- school.  Leaving my work home of 16 years was traumatic, to say the least.

And on to sixth grade!  Who knew how much I was going to enjoy them?  But I do, and am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to grow and learn with them.

We even had a couple of brush fires outside our back door.  I'm waiting for the cancellation notice on my homeowner's insurance now … sigh.

The home front has benefitted from some sprucing up, too.  New master bathroom, paint all over, and some improvements in the backyard.  Makes being home so enjoyable!

And throughout the year was my constant companion, Jed.  Apart from the trip back East, every other trip was taken with him.  I wouldn't want it any other way.

2014 promises to be full of adventure and new experiences.  But most of all ... Life with Jed.

It's All Good … for Now

Friday was a busy day.  Kids at school were looking forward to their weekend, and the staff was looking forward to the luncheon provided by one of our sponsors.

And I was anticipating Jed's visit with the eye vet at 4:15.  It had been almost 6 months to the day that the tumor was discovered in his eye and removed, with better-than-average odds that we'd gotten it all.  He'd been back for re-checks twice before and gotten a clean bill, but this time felt different.  I could see something near the colored part of his eye and was scared to death that it was a recurrence of the tumor.  So I went in with lots of fear and grieving for something that might cause him to lose his eye.

Well.  Silly me.  But maybe not silly me.  I guess I should pat myself on the back for being so hyper-vigilant.  Without that nagging inside voice he'd have never survived getting poisoned.  He'd have become paralyzed -- or worse -- when he yelped when trying to move his head and I took him immediately to the vet.  And when I felt what I was certain was a fatty tumor under his arm but still wanted to get it checked out I could never have guessed that it would lead to eye-saving surgery.

The vet was delighted with the "health" of his eye.  What I'd been seeing was simply scar tissue.  No tumor.  She dilated his eye and looked deep inside.  No tumor.  No more eye drops.

So now we're rejoicing over the fact that Jed is whole, and seemingly tumor-free.  

There will be another check-up in 3 months.  I'll probably lose sleep the week leading up to his visit.  But if we've dodged the bullet once, we can do it again.  Right?

Waiting

As we wait with great anticipation and excitement for that day we have designated as the birth of our Savior, I wait with anxiousness and dread over what could signal the end of what has been my whole, beautiful boy.

Last summer began with the news that Jed had a malignant melanoma growing inside his eye.  It was God's grace that led my vet to discover it.  Less than 24 hours after the discovery it was out, his eye was intact, and Jed began the long recuperation.  

He's done just fine, allowing me to slop drops into his eye every day.  

And now we come to the 6-month mark.  Jed goes to the vet on Friday, and I just can't shake the feeling that the news isn't going to be good.  I'm not a vet, but when I try to pull his eyelid up I can see a spot.  Maybe it's nothing.  Maybe it's just scar tissue.  But I'm afraid.  Really.  

I want to tell the world.  I want everyone to know that I'm scared and I want to believe that if enough people prayed hard enough that my boy would be spared from any more insults to his body.  

But I won't tell the world.  Except through this blog that nobody reads anymore.  It's my way to scream into the wind without being heard, and I need to scream until I have no more voice.  I want my boy to be okay.  I want him to live the rest of his life with all that's happened to him a distant memory.  No more pain.  No more worry.

God, can you hear just my voice?  Would you cut us a break this time?  Please?

Choosing

This is my boy.  He is the world to me.  Don't ever ask me to choose between him and anything else because the "anything else" will lose.  Every time.

  I understand the tension between the conflicting demands on my life.  It happens every other weekend when I leave my home with Jed in tow, knowing that he's stressed out.  But I try to make the best of the situation because I love "two" very much.  It's not easy.  

  On the other hand, when I feel like there's no room for me in someone's life it's really, really, really easy to walk away.  I won't compete.  Period.

Pushing the Reset Button

School is less than a week away, and while I'm eternally grateful to have a job in this economy, it's really hard to think about going back to a situation that's becoming increasingly more difficult to work in. Public school seem to be the economy's punching bag, and teachers are expected to do more with less every single year. Good thing I'm within single digits of being done with the whole mess. But I digress ...

So, knowing that my life wouldn't be my own in a short while caused a bit of internal panic. With that mindset I packed Jed and myself up, a dear friend came along to keep me awake while driving, and we hit the road for my "heart place".  But not without a few stops before getting there ...

The first stop in the adventure was Manzanar.  This memorial and museum sits on the site of one of our country's most embarrassing actions in history -- detaining over 10,000 Japanese people for 3 years during WWII.  All that is left of the city built in the middle of nowhere is the gymnasium, which now houses the museum, and the cemetary.

Most of the graves have been moved, but there are still a few remaining.  Standing in the middle of this desolate and starkly beautiful land gave me pause at the ability of human beings to inflict such misery on others without any regard for their dignity or worth as fellow humans.  And in the same breath I found myself overwhelmed by the capacity of the Japanese to rise above their fellow Americans and live fruitful and productive lives in spite of their situation.  These paper cranes, placed around the cemetary, are a metaphor for so many things ...

From there we headed north on Hwy. 395 toward Mammoth Lakes.  I hadn't been there in many years, and it was surprising to see how much it's grown.  We checked in to our hotel (a very nice dog-friendly establishment called the Edelweiss Lodge) and then headed up to the Lakes Region.  It was gorgeous.

Jed got to wander around off-leash and I was thinking that he'd want to go for a swim.  He opted to walk alongside me in the water.

We didn't stay too long because we had food in the car and there were bear warnings all over the place.  But it was a great way to end a long day of driving.

This is a HUGE root ball that has been here since ... forever.  Pretty impressive!

The next day we headed toward Yosemite.  But Mono Lake was on the way and since we've never seen it, it was a must.  As you can see, it's an incredibly beautiful place.

Then it was on to Yosemite, via Tioga Pass and Tuolumne Meadow.  Enough said.

My favorite place in the whole world is the Cathedral Picnic area in the Valley.  It's a well-kept secret, largely because people are so intent on making it to the crowded areas that they race right by it.  Their loss!  But it feels like I've arrived home every time I park the car and walk down to the Merced River.  

My reset button gets pushed there.  I think Jed's does, too.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful ... for me.  I got my Yosemite fix, spent time in my "heart place", and once that was over I was ready to go home.  I don't know when I'll get back, but for now I have the pictures and memories to keep me going a little while longer.

Jed is such an incredible traveler.  He trots up the ramp and right into the back of the Explorer and settles down for however long it will be until we stop.  I couldn't ask for a better travel buddy.

And my good buddy really made the trip more enjoyable, too.  Thanks, Marianne, for joining me.