Flying, Daughters, and Thanksgiving

November greetings to everyone!

Last Saturday, the temperature was in the 50s and clear and beautiful. I got a text from a friend asking me to go flying with him.  Now, I have been putting him off for some time now.  I truly am not terribly interested in going up in the air in a small plane.  Nope, this is not on my bucket list.  But I hesitated.  The day was perfect without wind and sunny and warm. I couldn’t think of a good excuse quickly enough, so he had me.  He even brought me coffee, and off we went to the county airport.  He is in a flying club, and when I saw the care he took while going through all the start up checks, I knew I was safe with this guy.  In fact, I can’t think of anyone I would feel safer with than this surgeon-pilot.  He is precise and careful in all he does, and he is the most capable man I know.  We really can’t stand the guy.  Here is the little Cessna we’re talking about:

Isn’t she a beauty?  Look at that sky!  I never knew the number of dials and radio frequencies and levers and buttons in a small plane, but he twiddled and pulled and checked and finally deemed us ready.

Off we went!  We took off East over our neighborhoods.  We avoided a small helicopter, finally found my Dad’s old school (ok, so it took me a longer time than it should have, but this is a new perspective for me….DOWN!), flew out over the lake (Erie, that is.  It looks so vast from up here!), and landed and took off at a small, unmanned airstrip out East a few times.  Brendan clearly knew what airspace we were always in, how to communicate with different towers, and how to be safe.  The landings were pretty darn perfect, and it was really fun to “touch and go” right back up again.  Before I knew it, I was having a wonderful time.  Things look so lovely from up above; all flaws are invisible from this altitude, and there is a wonderful sense of peace.

Again, I shouldn’t be surprised that I was a little overwhelmed by this experience.  Remember that “lean in “ thing?  I have to keep remembering this, but thankfully I couldn’t identify a good reason not to lean into this, and another amazing experience wrote itself in my playbook.  Thank you Brendan; I’m sorry I’ve been such a reluctant co-pilot.  Thank you, thank you for this opportunity and for your skill and competence once again. 

Having seen our slice of the world from several thousand feet, I am happy to report that things look really good.  The Chagrin river was flowing eagerly, the woods looked thick and just clinging to its last leaves, and all seemed well with the world for this hour.  On that note, happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Before Thanksgiving, I’d just been dragging and dragging around trying so hard to feel better when I just didn’t.  I even forgot to get my monthly shot that strengthens my bones.  I went back to get that shot, and the nurse asked me if my oncologist wanted any other lab work done.  I asked her to get a blood count as I have just not bounced back from radiation, and it had already been about 6 weeks.  Well, I trust how my body feels--my hematocrit was quite low.  Ok, now I know why I felt like lying in bed until Christmas.  I moved into the cancer center and got 2 units of blood, and the next day, I felt a bit perkier.  Thank goodness or I would never have been able to get to all those recipes KT sent me before Thanksgiving. 

Oh, let me elaborate.  My wonderful, troublesome college freshman is having a fabulous first semester in college.  She called to say she was very excited to come home and that she’d found a bunch of recipes that she wanted to send home for Thanksgiving.  Great!  I was excited to cook with her (and perhaps I’d have some energy to do it too!).  She told me to get all the ingredients, which I did.  Then she told me that it would be really convenient if I could make some of the recipes ahead of time, as she would be spending most of her time over break with her friends.

Now for all of you out there with 18 year olds, I suppose this behavior can be called normal.  She was excited, enthusiastic even, about the idea of making great food for Thanksgiving, but she was a bit conflicted about who would make it and how it would all end up steaming and perfect on the Thanksgiving table.  Take note, dear child, I will not be making recipes ahead of time.  Get your butt into this kitchen if you want cornbread stuffing made from scratch, etc, etc, etc! 

The wonderful thing about Katie is that her sense returned in spades. She helped me cook, we made wonderful food, and I died laughing just being with her.  She was also delightful at entertaining my mother and her friend who came to dinner. 

My mother lives independently in a retirement community around the corner from us.  She brought her friend Betty to Thanksgiving dinner.  Mom thought Betty was 95, but after Betty came in and sat down, she told us she will be turning 100 this year.  Betty was quite something; everything she said stopped us in our tracks.  She was funny and pithy and delightful throughout the evening.  For instance, during dinner Betty was asked her secret for long life.  She said, “Oh there’s no secret, dear.  I just wake up every morning ready for what the day brings, and the years just accumulate. “  We thought about that one for awhile. 

As my friend Jane said, everything Betty uttered could have been used in a Hallmark card.   On further questioning, Betty told us that she has 4 great-grandchildren, all of whom are in college.  We had to stop and think about that one, too! Final example-- after petting and kind of mesmerizing the dog (which not everyone can do, by the way), she said, “Sometimes the boy needs the dog more than the dog needs the boy.”  We stopped and chewed on that one, and nodded in knowing agreement.  I certainly am such a “boy”. 

All of us, from 18 to 88, found ourselves completely entranced by this tiny woman on a walker.  You know, you just never know where or when the little miracles will show themselves.  But we all recognized that we had one in our midst.  And another thing—she just loves my mom.  They were completely adorable sitting on the couch talking after dinner.  What a blessing. 

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I certainly did.  I really feel that I have more things to be thankful for every day.  I know I have to sit in that chair again and hold out my arm for yet another chemical mix that might just stop the slow progression of this disease, but maybe it makes me that much more aware of the wonders and blessings around me everyday: like Betty, like the seven around our Thanksgiving table, like healthy, happy kids, like great friends, like mom and my sister, like the dog who knows when to glue herself to my side, like a new friend wanting to take pictures of Katie and me, like art and writing and poetry, etc, etc, etc

On that note, how about some poetry:

Thanksgiving (Lynn Ungar)

I have been trying to read 

the script cut in these hills— 

a language carved in the shimmer of stubble 

and the solid lines of soil, spoken 

in the thud of apples falling 

and the rasp of corn stalks finally bare.

The pheasants shout it with a rusty creak 

as they gather in the fallen grain, 

the blackbirds sing it 

over their shoulders in parting, 

and gold leaf illuminates the manuscript 

where it is written in the trees.

Transcribed onto my human tongue 

I believe it might sound like a lullaby, 

or the simplest grace at table. 

Across the gathering stillness 

simply this: "For all that we have received, 

dear God, make us truly grateful."

I Go Down To The Shore (Mary Oliver)

I go down to the shore in the morning

and depending on the hour the waves

are rolling in or moving out,

and I say, oh, I am miserable,

what shall—

what should I do?  And the sea says

in its lovely voice:

Excuse me, I have work to do.