Do you ever have days when you sit and wonder, "What's the point?" It's not always like this for me; usually, I'm just so grateful to be alive that all other thoughts are shelved for another day. The inconsequential worries of yesterday no longer fill my mind, and it takes a lot to make me flustered or upset. But there are days when no one else is home, and I don't have to pretend to be "well" for anyone... When I'm all by myself, sometimes I feel like I'm in a hopeless situation with no happy ending. During those moments, I forget that my happy ending is now, making the best out of the present.
I get cancer treatments once a month—and then Zometa, an infusion for my bones, once every 3 months—and those infusions make me feel so ill for weeks upon weeks. Yet, they're the only thing keeping the cancer from growing. And without those, I wouldn't be here, typing this right now.
Anyway, I'd been having one of those down days when I got a text from Colleen Hancock. "Scott would love to see you."
So, without a second thought, I went to see my dear friend, who's become like family. The next few hours were a blur of laughter and storytelling. I even got to visit with Scott's amazing nephew (Kent) and his beautiful wife (Karrie), Gordon (the renowned artist), Colleen (the best baker in ALL of Idaho), and, of course, the legendary man of the hour, Scott Hancock!
Listening to and sharing stories about hilarious things that have happened, I somehow forgot about all of my troubles. I laughed so hard about possible sasquatch encounters and a chance meeting with a gigantic otter. I smiled big when Scott told me about his adventures as a young man. "We drove to California at the drop of a hat. Then we met a woman who really pursued me," he sighed, "but I turned her down."
"First time he didn't go for it," Gordon said, chuckling when Scott gave him a "side eye."
"But spurning that woman might've been my first mistake."
"Why?" I asked, hanging onto this story like honey butter on cornbread.
"Well, I got in trouble. My dad was furious."
"Not just Grandpa," Kent said. "Grandma. Grandma was the one who got all worked up."
"Moral of the story," I said. "Never turn down a good woman?"
"Maybe so!" Gordon agreed and broke out laughing.
It's funny how one different choice can change so much.
I gave everyone the biggest hugs goodbye and told Scott and Colleen how much I love them. "Thank you for letting me come visit today," I told them, more grateful than they would ever know.
A sudden nostalgia overtook me as I drove home, so I pulled off by a shaded tree, parked my car, and closed my eyes. The first thing I registered was happiness—normalcy—not feeling sick or flawed—just feeling valued and not judged for my limitations. But as I closed my eyes, I suddenly remembered sitting on a rock in Southeastern Utah. I grew up in the desert and, at times, camped so much that sandstone felt like a second skin.
Anyway, that particular day—near the San Rafael Swell—was in the high 90s. We'd been camping as a family, and everyone else wanted to hang out in the shade. Instead, I'd gone to sit on a sandstone boulder where I could see all around me for miles. A hawk circled above as I played my somber violin. Lizards scurried around far beneath me, and rocks gleamed in the sun.
And as the wind brushed through my hair, I couldn't help but grin. I was made for the desert; I could've stayed there forever because, in those rustic hills, that's where I really felt G-d...
I opened my eyes, returning to the present moment... where I'd parked my car in the shade of a beautiful Idaho tree. I chuckled softly, watching snowflakes dance with one another before changing form and coating my windshield. How strange to think of the desert while being surrounded by snow! That's when I realized what had felt so nostalgic as I drove back from visiting Scott and his friends and family.
They'd reminded me of that day in the desert because I'd finally felt peace... pure and simple.
Sometimes, the only things we really need are love and community. No matter how hard life gets or how insurmountable challenges may seem, the companionship of good people can give us the reprieve and courage we need to keep going.
So, I wanted to thank Scott, Colleen, Kent, Karrie, and Gordon. You lifted my spirits and reminded me how powerful peace can be. As I prepare to go to my monthly treatments again, I hope I'll find someone who needs kindness; maybe I can change their day as much as you brightened mine. I appreciate you so much more than you probably realize.
Love you,
Elisa
No comments:
Post a Comment