quick update

Hey all... thought I'd give an update on how things are going.  The general gist is, "WTF?"  I don't mean to complain, but... seriously?

Dad developed shingles about a week and a half ago, probably as a result of all the stress of thinking about surgery, going through testing, etc.  Took that in stride, and his case didn't seem to get as painful as shingles can sometimes get, which is good.

We've been waiting rather anxiously for Dad to meet with the surgeons to figure out when his surgery will be.  About two hours before the appointment yesterday, my mom was rear-ended while doing deliveries at work.  She's already hurting.  This was the last thing her poor body needed.

At the surgeon appointment, they reviewed the tests and said the surgery is going to be quite serious -- the way it was explained to me, because of that membrane (the paracardium) removed 20 years ago, it's as if the doctors are working without a guide to where the particular arteries are located.  They're considering sending him over to Seattle an hour and a half away rather than doing the surgery near home.  The medical center over there has a few more resources to deal with caring for him if something unplanned were to happen.

We're just all feeling overwhelmed and scared, and things keep getting added to an already heavy load.  I know we're not the only family who has dealt or is currently dealing with this kind of stuff, and I'm thankful for small graces along the way, but I'd be lying to pretend like we're not going through the wringer on this one.

We'd sure appreciate your thoughts and prayers.  I think we've got a long month or two ahead.

In other news, this picture makes me smile... and then giggle a bit.



Only you can prevent swine flu.

fear and gratitude

A quick glance at the news loop reveals things to be afraid of:

Swine flu pandemic

Recession

Unemployment

Home foreclosure

Twitter and Twitterers (is the proper terminology "twits"?)

Obesity

Salmonella poisoning

Creed reuniting

North Korea

Divorce

Fox News

Aging

Low-flying planes

A quick glance at my life reveals things to be thankful for:

My husband, who puts his whole heart into our marriage

My husband, who knows how to fix a computer when it's on the fritz

Family and dear friends

Medical advances that allow lives to be saved (like my dad's)

A roof over my head, and then some

Two jobs that I enjoy

A Bellingham Public Library card

The Office

My diploma, which arrived in the mail yesterday

My student loan bills, which have not arrived yet

Books that help me not give up on faith

My yellow bicycle

Grace to try again

tulip festival | mount vernon

Fun-filled day for us--we went to the Museum of Radio & Electricity this morning and then headed down to the Tulip Festival to meet up with my mom and dad for a bit.

It's not something I'd need to do every year, but it was fun to go crazy with my camera.  Here are a few of my favorite shots:






 













 





And, of course, the obligatory happy-snap.

fire at 301-C

So, tonight Justin and I got a first-hand view of what our third-story, on-the-corner apartment would look like if it were on fire.

It would look just like this:



We arrived home this afternoon and saw some funny smoke just starting to come from the apartment building next to ours, which doesn't seem all that out-of-the-ordinary since people are barbecuing in this nice weather.  Still, it looked a little weird, so I pointed it out to Justin, and he commented that it smelled just like those little firework-worms we used to get around the fourth of July as kids.  Then we heard people start screaming and banging on doors, so we dropped our stuff inside our apartment, called 9-1-1, and headed over.

It's amazing how complete strangers help each other when something crazy happens.  The fire engulfed the apartment's front door, and we found out later that a girl in her twenties helped pull a trapped person out of a window when the fire first began.  On the other end of the building, people helped carry an elderly man down the stairs during the evacuation.  Everyone got out safely, no one was hurt.

Standing a small distance away to avoid getting in the way of the fire crew once they arrived, we were watching with all our neighbors when a man came up to us and asked us what was going on.  We pointed and said the fire had started about fifteen minutes ago, but it looked like they had it under control.  Squinting, he said, "That's my house," and his knees began to shake.  Not a great way to arrive home from work.

We stopped by a few minutes ago, and fortunately, all the damage was at the front door, possibly ignited by the dryer (see, Mom, you didn't make me completely paranoid about running the dryer when I'm not home... you made me smart).  Everything else in the apartment was ok, including the mail sitting in the keyholder in the front doorway.  Kind of amazing after all that flame.  The man seems to be keeping a good perspective on all of this, realizing it could have been much, much worse.

Fire freaks me out.  I never really thought about it much until someone did this (on purpose) to my brother's house the day before my wedding:








Sick.  All five roommates lost everything to fire or looters.

I am happy for our neighbor that this was a different situation and almost all of his stuff was spared.  We like to say stuff isn't important, but the reality is that it hits pretty hard when you lose all of it in fifteen minutes.  The fire inspector said that if they'd arrived five minutes later, the whole apartment would have gone up.

Anyway, nice reality check.  I find myself grateful for my home and my little family... and for the safety of the neighbors I never met before today.

it's spring. for real.

Saw these beauties while I was out on my epic every-neighborhood-in-Bellingham shoot.  Apparently flowers are less afraid of sunny-but-still-48 degrees than we are.

Doubt was amazing.

About thirty seconds into the preview for Doubt, Justin and I looked at each other with big eyes and nodded -- yep, we're definitely seeing this one.  Besides being big Philip Seymour Hoffman fans, the film deals with themes we care about -- certainty vs. doubt, church power and religious tradition vs. change and inclusivity.  That, and the stark, moody shots looked rather stunning.

Like many movies these days, we didn't get around to seeing it until it came out on DVD (go Netflix!), but now I understand why each of the four principal characters received Oscar nods.  They deserved them.  

PSH and Meryl Streep, especially.  The movie steadily builds on their barely-restrained frustrations and suspicions and dislike, which makes for an intense hour and a half (not a moment of which was wasted, good point Brandon) -- but it also builds on their very human complexities.  Neither person is completely victim or villain.  Anyone is capable of taking an unexpected course.  When Father Flynn and Sister Aloysius finally battle it out -- as we know they will from early on -- their flood of words and emotions don't seem overdone; their very believable, well-rounded portrayals up to this point have prepared us for this overwhelming clash of wills.

Meryl Streep's accent blows my mind.

Props to Amy Adams (the purse girl) for taking on such a difficult role.  It's a far cry from Gisele in Enchanted (which I love unashamedly), but she nailed it, giving Sister James a perfect blend of naivete and fierce idealism.  And Viola Davis... it says something when you get an Oscar nom for a total of about ten minutes on-screen.  That scene smashed me flat (and made me feel pretty smart, as I'd figured out what Mom reveals much earlier than my male co-movie-watchers).

If you're looking for a film that leaves you knowing exactly what to think or feel, this probably isn't the movie for you.  It's wonderfully ambiguous.  (I heard of another person who came to a completely different conclusion than I did at the end regarding Father Flynn's guilt or innocence -- I like that this is possible in a film).  But if you like those movies that hum for a while after the closing credits, that leave you thinking for a few days afterward -- give it a watch.  Then let me know what you think.

I am not good at getting my books signed.

The good news is that we went with friends to hear Anne Lamott speak down in Mercer Island, and she was a joy to listen to.  After a morning spent on the phone dealing with the unpleasant -- talking to Alaska Air about how to cancel our Maui flights, talking to my old boss Bob the Attorney about helping my folks get the kind of paperwork you want to have done when you're going into major surgery -- I was ready for a kind voice.  Which she was (and funny, too).  As she spoke to the packed gymnasium, I think most people there felt very embraced (unless feminism bothered them).

The bad news is that -- well, I'm kind of a freak.  Since we sat almost in the back row, we were able to get out of the gym quickly and head straight for where Anne would be signing books.  Many people had brought or were buying books, so we thought a long line would form.  It did, but I was person number three in that line.  For about thirty seconds, I thought, SWEET!  We won't be in line forever!



Being in the front of the line, I had no time to think of anything to say.  When the two people in front of me disappeared, I panicked.  (Clearly, meeting favorite authors is my equivalent of meeting rock stars).  In a voice much higher than my own, I gushed that I was so glad to have finally heard her speak, and then I just sort of looked at her for a moment because I couldn't think of anything to say.  Without shaking her hand, I slid my book toward her on the table.  She graciously signed it.  After stumbling through a request for a picture, Justin and I posed for an awkward photo with the poor woman -- the first of many, I'm sure.

This is a picture of me thinking "Why am I crouching behind Anne Lamott?" behind Anne Lamott.  Also, with Justin Lawlis.



In an attempt to shake off the memory of crouching behind Anne Lamott, I will return to some of the thoughts she shared with all of us semi-crazy people.  I jotted down some notes in the back of my book, so they're jumbled and probably badly paraphrased, but fun anyway.

She started off by joking that "Anything I write is basically about how I'm doing on any given day," then read a passage from Bird by Bird about writing as a present to yourself, or to the person whose story you're telling, etc.  She said no one cares if you write -- when you bring out your pen, they'll ask, "Oh, so you've got a publisher now?" -- let yourself take notes anyway.  Then she talked about seven things that she knows for sure.

1.  It's okay not to know more than you know right now.  Perfectionism is the voice of the Oppressor. She shared again with us that quote from Bird by Bird, where she writes, "E.L. Doctorow said once said that 'Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.' You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard."

2.  The most profound thing you can do on any given day is less. Make a list and cross three things off immediately.  Never help anyone move after the age of 40.  Tell them you'll bring sandwiches 'round for the younger folks around 1 pm.  With cookies.  Because you said you would is a terrible reason to do something.  Reserve the right to say those difficult words: "I've changed my mind."

If I have only 3 1/2 days left on this earth (1 day doesn't work for me, I like 3 1/2 days better), I want to spend most of that time outside.  And I want to have taken a nap.  And I hope I've overeaten at least three times in that three days.  There's not time to catch up later, especially with your kids and grandkids who will grow up with our without you.  All this meaningless activity argues a wasted life.

Many of us are afraid, because of how we were raised, that if we stop -- if we just stop -- a huge abyss will open up at our feet.  And it might.  It might open up right then and there.  But it's only there that people can meet you, that people can see you need help.  Jesus can meet you there.  And one of the things I love about Jesus is that he's really good with crazy people.  He doesn't just pull you up.  He sits beside you, leaning back against the wall.  He says, "Have you eaten?"

3.  Failures and mistakes and false starts are essential to the process. Take up something you'll be really bad at.  By the age of 12, we pretty much know what we're good at; it's been winnowed out of us, and we pretty much stick to that for the rest of our lives.  We become SO afraid of being bad at things, which is very limiting.

4.  You get to ask for a lot of help. When you're writing, for instance.  Have a pen.  If you don't know what something was like, ask.  Listen to the way people tell you about their experience.  By listening, you can understand what things are (or were) for other people, but you can also find out what things aren't for you.

You get to ask for a lot of help.

And, there's the four things Anne Lamott knows for sure.

Other than the fact that the people who come to her book signings are a little strange.

not quite what I'd envisioned...

It's been a long, crazy month since we graduated.  A few highlights, and one urgent need for prayers/good thoughts/what-have-you...

...One of our coolest patients at my "real job" hired me to shoot photos all over Bellingham (she's a real estate agent and needs photos of all thirty-something neighborhoods, along with their schools & parks), as well as write copy for her site.  It's quite the undertaking, but it's been incredibly fun to be a) out with my camera all day; b) paid for it.  And the copywriting means I'm using my English degree, thankyouverymuch.

...For the first time in at least a year, I spent some solid time with dear friends down in Bremerton.  Since they live right in between my parents and J's folks, it has been notoriously difficult to get together because we were always "home" for holidays and not much else.  Now that we've graduated, it was a good time just to stay with our friends.  And it was amazing.  We got to meet Jeremy & Tracie's new son, and celebrate a coming addition to Andy & Grace's family.  That's two of my bridesmaids down... Amanda?  Anything you want to tell me?

When you get married and promptly move away from your good friends (and immediately start school), it's difficult to guage how it will impact things.  I'm so thankful for friendships that grow over time and distance, rather than fading (that includes you too, Julie).  Because I'm a total headcase, sometimes I wonder, Will things be awkward?  And that awkward moment never comes.  The laughter starts up, and I'm comfortable in my own skin as always, looking forward to a time when maybe we won't all live so far apart.

...and here comes the tough stuff.  My dad will be having open heart surgery soon to replace his aeorta valve and do a double-or-triple bypass.  This news hit us all really unexpectedly -- in addition to the scariness of surgery, we had a family trip planned to Hawaii next month, and no one needed a trip to the beach more than my mom and dad, for whom retirement has not been the idyllic time they had imagined.

We took it in stride as much as possible, and had a good Easter laughing together.  But after a test yesterday, we found out that the surgery will be a lot more complicated due to Dad's first open heart surgery over 20 years ago.  Dad had cancer when he was younger, and the Navy hospital, performing up to its infamous reputation, messed up the radiation treatments.  It affected the membrane around Dad's heart, and he went into congestive heart failure at the age of 34.  

There's scar tissue around the heart where they did surgery before, which makes the surgery more serious than first anticipated.  The heart has to work harder when scar tissue is involved, it becomes enlarged, etc.  They're doing all sorts of tests over the next few weeks to figure things out.

Grandma also has some heart stuff going on, so Mom is shuttling in between hours-long tests for Dad and cardiologist appointments for Grandma. Mom fell down the stairs at work two days ago.  (This is always the way my family does stuff -- try and make a crazy story out of it -- like our tent trailer rolling into a lake, or Kevin's house burning down the day before my wedding.  This particular story is my least favorite so far).  

I'm trying to wait until I can do the most good before I take off work and head down... but it's tough to be even three hours away.

Much of being a grown-up totally sucks, I'm realizing.

We'd genuinely appreciate your prayers.  Especially for these two people, who just celebrated their 33rd wedding anniversary last week:

 Thanks.