A Spring of Joy

Recently, someone posed the question to Brian, “I don’t know you well, but I know your wife has cancer. What is that like, living with cancer?”

Brian struggled to respond, not because he didn’t know the person well and didn’t want to share. He struggled because he didn’t even know how to answer. How do you sum up life with chronic suffering? It’s a lot like normal life, we take the kids to school and do extra-curricular activities with them, we help them with their homework, we watch Bear play football and Ash and Bella run track, we work our jobs (although I have missed more hours), we share meals as a family, we go on date nights, we have weekend fun if we can, we took our epic vacation…we just live life. But it’s so different, too. How to even explain?

I’ve chewed on that a lot since it happened. What is it like to live with cancer?

How to even explain?

We’ve faced this for so long, it has become our normal life; that is, if you consider doctors every week and chemo treatments and days in bed normal. But we do work hard to make things as “normal” as we can for our family, for our sanity. But here’s a bit of what the normal looks like for us. (And yes, I just used the word “normal” four times in one paragraph. My grammar professors would shake their heads.)

Normal is losing one day a week to chemo. Every Monday I must find care for my children (all day during the summer, after school at times during the school year) while I see the doctor, have treatment, and come home and collapse, exhausted. Normal is them coming home to Mom in bed or asleep on the couch and taking care of themselves while trying not to wake me. Normal means three days of fatigue, nausea and loss of appetite among other nasty symptoms.

But…Normal is gaining lots more snuggle time. It’s curling up on the couch to help with homework, cuddled under a blanket reading or talking through tough problems they’re working on. It’s Bear showing up in my bedroom as I rest to flash that dimpled grin and say, “You need a hug!” and then being enveloped in the biggest “Bear” hug. It’s Ash bringing a book into my room to read with me. It’s Bella nestling next to me at bedtime, her face buried in my neck, then tears when she has to go to her own room, “Mommy, I just need more time with you.” Time is what we long for…

Normal is needing meals provided on chemo days and the day after, because I have no energy to cook. It’s leftovers nights and eating off of paper plates so we don’t have to do dishes. Oh, how I miss real plates (I know that seems small in the grand scheme, but I really do miss setting a nice table.) It’s cooking easy meals and wishing I had the energy to spend time in the kitchen cooking like I used to. It’s figuring out ways to make meals even healthier and pouring over cancer “cookbooks” trying not to obsess about one of the great joys of my life–food. It’s fighting the fear that every bite I put in my mouth is killing me (hello, inter webs with your mass of too much information in every direction), and clinging to truth that God has given us food for enjoyment.

But…Normal is seeing friends’ faces at my door as meals are delivered. It’s meeting new people who signed up to provide for us, because they knew of the need and wanted to help. It’s chatting for a couple minutes and catching up on bits and pieces of life before they head back to care for their own families. It’s gift cards in the mail from friends who couldn’t cook for us. It’s provision God gives us outside of ourselves.

Normal is going to the store and stopping halfway through wondering how I’m ever going to finish. How am I going to carry bags to the car and drive home? How am I going to put them all away when I get home? It’s leaving a partially full cart in the store and going home without groceries, crying over my weakness. It’s buying food in bulk so there’s less shopping to do then not having anywhere to store it when I get home and letting go of my nice, neat organized life (I let go of that a long time ago!).

But…normal is my mom and dad by my side faithfully helping with those needs. It’s seeing their faces at my door as they arrive to be chemo buddies and take care of shopping trips and housework and Daddy doing odd jobs to help care for our home. It’s long talks with my parents as we all wrestle with my diagnosis, this life we face together. It’s friends showing up at my door with dinner on a day “off schedule” because they knew it would be helpful. It’s being beautifully overwhelmed by offers of help, by “if you need anything, we’re there.” Side note if you’ve wondered why I haven’t called: Unfortunately, there are many times I’m too overwhelmed to even call, because I don’t even know what I need, but it’s knowing how loved I am, how cared for, how provided for. That impacts the heart!

Normal is living life in terms of withdrawals and deposits; it’s knowing that when I make a withdrawal on energy, I’ll need to make time to rest and deposit. It’s Brian’s mantra, “Our no is no and our yes is maybe” because we never know what life will look like from day to day. It’s sometimes making the “wrong” choice and paying for it for days. It’s often making the “right” choice and still paying for it for days.

But…normal is enjoying time when we choose to make those withdrawals. It’s sitting around a dinner table at a friend’s house or a campfire roasting marshmallows. It’s curling into a chair to chat and watch my loves play with their friends, riding bikes and building fairy gardens. It’s choosing to be together with my loves, knowing it will require time alone sleeping it off the next day. It’s friends who understand the slow pace of my life and allow for my weakness.

Normal is Brian working 10 hours days and then coming home to put food on the table and clear dishes and get children to bed. Normal is him leaving work early to take Bear to football then coming home to find his wife asleep on the couch. It’s working after everyone is asleep and the house is quiet so he can get up and take care of us all again the next day. It’s days where we don’t even get to speak to each other more than hushed, “Hellos, goodbyes and I love yous.”

But…normal is learning more about my husband every day. It’s watching him serve and shepherd us over and over and over again and never, ever complain (I do not exaggerate this… I’ve never heard a word of complaint about all that is on his plate.) Normal is bickering like every couple and working through disagreements and obstacles and figuring out life together. Normal is date nights and short walks together and curling up on the couch for a movie in which I fall asleep after about 10 minutes. Normal is falling asleep in the safety of his arms, content and thankful to be his.

Normal is watching my children struggle to accept that their mom has cancer, that this monster could take my life. It’s fear of leaving me because all too often they’ve seen that “something could happen” and watching them conquer that fear every week. It’s meltdowns over small things and wrestling to understand the good in the hard. It’s hearing them pray every day for mom’s cancer to go into remission, for us to believe even if it doesn’t. It’s hurting while they hurt and glowing with pride while their faith is deepened.

But…normal is going to football games and washing jerseys. It’s buying new track shoes and school uniforms. It’s catching up on their school days and helping with homework. It’s refereeing fights and being part of the fight itself. It’s holding arms out for forgiveness and feeling their forgiving arms around me when I must ask for theirs. It’s hearing Bella tell stories after play dates and listening to Bear’s antics with his friends. It’s deep talks with Ash-man about life and the future. It’s rationing video game time and curling up to watch Food Network together (and drool). It’s accepting that I can’t always be at games and track meets and school events, and aching in the acceptance.

Normal is going for scans and echocardiograms and trying to plan my week when someone else is scheduling appointments. It’s blown I.V.s and bruised arms. It’s waiting, constant waiting on results from treatment and scans. It’s taking deep breaths when another bill arrives and seeing the piles of papers and bills and “home” work that I need to catch up on cluttering up my desk and pushing them to the side, because “I’ll get them after I nap.” It’s a fatigue that is mind-blowing (a small example: you know you’re exhausted when the thought of filing your nails is too much) and feeling lazy when you see how dirty and messy your house is, but you literally cannot get up off the couch. Normal is leaving work early on bad days and having to deal with less hours.

But…normal is God’s constant provision for us. It’s bills being paid and insurance covering more than we expected. It’s hearing good news and hearing bad news and learning together on truth. It’s a good insurance plan from Brian’s work, that while often being a pain to get approval, covers more than enough for us to be able to handle. It’s others overlooking the clutter and dust when they visit. It’s days when the fatigue lessens (as my blood counts return to normal) and I cook and clean and shop on my own with my Bella girl as my faithful companion. Normal is working part-time for my church and being surrounded by co-workers who love me and pray for me and care for me, who allow for my weakness and understand my struggles.

Normal is a throbbing loneliness. It’s long, dark days unable to go anywhere except the cancer center or do anything except flop on the couch. It’s waking in the night while the darkness threatens to envelop and not wanting to wake Brian again to hold me. It’s wrestling through dreary days to cling to truth and not letting the lies of my past (oh, y’all, the church I grew up in left me with so much baggage, so many lies, such harsh deceptions) overcome. Far too often it’s losing the battle, feeling abandoned and weeping in fear of so. many. things. It’s knowing that there is a point where only I can walk through this suffering, and feeling very alone. It’s tears–a plethora of tears.

But…normal is being bolstered by the love, the prayers, the encouragement of friends. It’s texts and emails and letters of comfort and care. It’s burying myself in my Bible and words of truth written by others. It’s praying and praying and praying for God’s presence and comfort in the darkness and falling back to sleep in peace. It’s Brian and friends speaking truth to me over the lies. It’s friends understanding and not berating me for my struggles… not fixing things… not “singing songs to a heavy heart” (see Proverbs 25:20 “Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on soda, is one who sings songs to a heavy heart.”) or giving pat answers. It’s truth, poured over and over and over the flames of falsehood and it’s watching those flames die down.

Normal is constant hand washing and watching my children for any sign of a cold or virus. It’s avoiding crowds or taking major precautions when I do (Recently we watched the demolition derby at the county fair. We sat in the middle of a bunch of our friends and I spent the entire time with either folded arms or arms on my lap. We waited until the crowds had dissipated before we left the stands and then I doused myself with hand sanitizer just to be on the safe side. Sometimes I even shower after I’ve been places.) It’s having several doctors’ numbers memorized and medications in my purse. It’s trying not to pull back when someone gives me a hug and feeling rude and asking “Do you have a cold?” sometimes before I accept that hug.

But…normal is letting go and trusting, knowing that I can’t keep away every germ or virus. It’s accepting hugs when I am healthy and my blood counts are good and it’s being okay with having to say “no” when my counts are low and I’m neutropenic. It’s wearing masks in public and playing “good guy, bad guy” games with my kids. It’s being cautious but not compulsive. It’s knowing that every germ is in God’s control, too, and as one of my chemo nurses told me, “We want you to live your life, so go… have a good time. You know what to do to protect yourself.” So I do. I live my life.

I could probably go on and on and on, explaining, but I guess that is what it boils down to.

Normal is letting go and trusting as we live our life.

We don’t know what that living will look like from day to day. We don’t know what I’ll miss and what I’ll be able to be part of.

But we live. This life.

For this is the life God has given us.

Is it hard? Yes.

Is it excruciatingly painful? At times, yes.

Is it overwhelming? Yes.

Is it isolating? At times, yes.

Is it exhausting? Yes.

Is it normal? For us. Yes.

Is it wonderful? More often than not. Yes.

Is it life? Yes.

This life. Our life. Together.

While we were in Niagara Falls, I received a message from my sweet friend, Kara… “While you’re up north, come see us!” Bri had very wisely built in extra days into our vacation, and we had one extra on the tail end. Why not go see our friends and get a tour of West Point while we were at it? So Friday morning we packed up Gimli and hit the road for a long drive to West Point. We set up in a campground near the post and drove in to see Drew and Kara, whom we had known since their youth group days when we were their leaders. We sang in their wedding one week before Bear was born (yes, I was as big as a house), and have kept in touch as they have traveled through their Army days. Arriving on their doorstep to big hugs, warm blueberry cobbler and coffee on the back deck was a wonderful way to end a long day of travel, and the boys were especially excited to tour West Point the next day.

We woke slowly on Saturday morning, drove back on post for breakfast with our friends before our tour. We were greeted shyly by their two adorable boys, but they quickly formed friendships with our children, and Bella was disappointed to learn their baby was still napping. She couldn’t wait to meet him! Major Drew took us out to tour West Point, and we were thrilled with the architecture, the history, the beauty of this place. It was amazing to stand on the spot where World War II ended with the Japanese surrender and to see portraits of Thayer award winners among other things. Kara joined us when naps were over and we walked the grounds, looked at cannons and viewed the Hudson River.

After lunch Bri took the boys to the West Point museum while Bella and I napped on the couch. Then we met up with their friend, one of the football players for Army, and went out to dinner for amazing burgers and sandwiches, then ice cream down by the river. It couldn’t have been a more refreshing way to end our vacation. Good-byes that night were hard as we headed back to Gimli for one last night.

Hitting the road early the next morning, we had another long day of travel ahead of us and poor Ash had run out of books. (So earlier I asked y’all any guesses on how many books he read… here’s your answer: 22. Yes, 22 in one week and they were not small books! That kid is something else.) A little bit of napping, a movie or two, chatting about our trip and we arrived home in the evening. We stopped to pick up our Coopy Doopy Doo and the engine light turned on telling us our engine was overheating. WHAT?! We limped the rest of the way home exhausted and curled up for pizza and movie night to end it all. Happy and together.

Bri and I talked often on our trip about how well everything was going. The kids rarely bickered, we all got along splendidly, and our schedule of rest, play and friendship visits couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. We were amazed and grateful for how it all went. To be honest, coming home was really, really hard. For ten days I didn’t have to face doctors or chemo or make decisions regarding treatment. It was an escape from real life for a while, and real life here in the Valley while beautiful is really, really hard. I cried buckets, curling into Brian that evening. “I want to have so many more trips with you.” And we begged God for more, and we thanked God for this incredible trip He had given us… Watkins Glen, Seneca Lake, visits with old friends, delicious foods, museums and history, West Point, Niagara Falls and most of all, each other.

It was all such a gift. Such a gift.

After a long day, we slept late in our little home away from home and woke to another day full of sunshine. Because the kids love history so much, we took advantage of their thirst for knowledge and decided to take it easy and start our day with a leisurely tour of Fort Niagara. It was a beautiful setting right on Lake Ontario and full of old buildings, costumed soldiers and musicians, and games with the staff. The children especially enjoyed the cannons and playing a bat and ball game the soldiers would have played.

After a few hours, we went back to Gimli so I could rest for the afternoon while Bri went to the pool with the kiddos. After a quiet afternoon and early dinner, we piled into the car to head to Canada! Parking on the American side, we walked the Rainbow Bridge across the river and entered the friendly country to the north. Fortunately, as we were entering we saw that to return we would have to pay fifty cents per person. Unfortunately, we had not brought any cash with us (because what idiots enter a foreign country with no cash on them?). No worries, we’d just use our debit card and get cash!

The views were amazing, so now this will become the blog in which I bore you to death with tons of pictures of waterfalls. There’s not too much to write other than “there were a lot of oooooh’s and ahhhhhh’s” happening. We stopped at a gift shop to get cash and found that our debit card wouldn’t work. Yep. We were stuck in Canadia (I spelt it that way on purpose since that’s what Brian kept calling it). We wandered to another shop. Tried the debit card again. Wouldn’t work. I was beginning to prime Bella to work on the big brown eyes look so we could find a nice American to ask for $2.50 so we could go home, when suddenly the card worked! We got some ice cream, watched the falls, felt the spray, pet some horses, and watched the illumination from the Canadian side. It was just as breathtaking and mesmerizing as the day before. We wandered back over the bridge to home and another drive withe the full moon and the windows down. It was all so perfect it felt like it couldn’t be real. But it was. Such a truly wonderful week together.

After mesmerizing views, gorgeous rainbows, thick mists, boat rides, hurricane decks and a bit of almost passing out (we do like to keep life exciting), finding ourselves sitting outside at the Top of the Falls restaurant was a highly anticipated break. I decided to go for it and be “Barreled Over” and eat the 1300 calorie hamburger. Oh, but I jest. Seriously, y’all, listen to this burger–angus beef hand-stuffed with fancy buffalo wing cheddar, candied bacon, apples, lettuce, tomato, onion all served on a brioche roll. Who can eat something that size?! We pulled out our inner geek (not a hard thing to do) and played the Trivial Pursuit game on the Heinz ketchup bottle. Yes, we are the people who actually do that. And we got 29 out of 30 right! It was a nice middle of the day break and much needed rest for me. After lunch we did a bit more sight-seeing, but found the heat pretty intense.

We hopped on the trolley for a lovely drive past the falls back to the visitor’s center where we avoided the heat of the afternoon to watch their Niagara Falls movie. Tightrope walkers and barrels over the falls and the story of the first person to survive the falls in just a life jacket kept us on the edge of our seats and had the kids chattering away breathlessly when it was over. We hopped the trolley again to the Discovery Museum all about the falls and then Bear’s favorite part… the Niagara Falls Aquarium. While not very large, it had lots of sights for them and they loved watching the sea lions swim. We were surprised to find we had made it just in time for the Sea Lion show involving lots of jumps and flips and hoops and barking. The kids loved it!

At this point we had planned to walk across the Rainbow Bridge to Canada, see the Canadian side and watch the illumination of the falls from that side. Brian took one look at me and knew it was impossible. I love that man! We decided to go easy for the rest of the evening, so we found a little pizza place (Brooklyn-style pizza y’all) nearby and crashed for a bit. After pizza, we grabbed some ice cream cones and sat outside watching all the people around us. Bella and Bri found little patio chairs and had a date while I sat on the curb with my boys, and we talked about our favorite parts of the day. As the night waned, we casually walked back to the Falls and watched them illuminate. It was beautiful!

We walked down by the river where they light up the rapids, and it was fantastic. We enjoyed quite the light show on the falls, arms linked, even a few hand holds that warmed my heart. We meandered back to our car, drove the short distance back to Gimli with the windows down, moonroof open and almost full moon blazing away above us. It didn’t take long for us to fall asleep that night… we were weary, but so very happy.

Rather than sleeping in late like we had been doing every morning, we were all up early and excited for our day, but trust me, there was still time for Brian’s hand ground coffee and some granola and yogurt. We piled in the car and drove into the city of Niagara Falls and parked. Walking in together to get our tickets for the day, our spirits were high. After a quick stop at the visitor’s center for some guidance for our day, we walked to the observation deck for our first glimpse of the falls.

Oh, y’all, it was mesmerizing! The roar of the water pouring over the edge, the foamy mist, the rainbows all around… we were enraptured.

We made our way down to ride the Maid of the Mist. This is a boat tour that takes you past the American side of the falls close into the horseshoe falls of the Canadian side, straight into the mist at the bottom of the falls. I don’t know how close you actually get to the falls, but when they take you into the mist, cut the power to the boat and let you sit there and bob in the water, you feel like you can reach out and touch them.

We were first in line to get on our boat, and as we waited for the passengers before us to disembark, one man walked past us and told us, “Top right, best view in the house.” Our little Bella girl was pretty scared to ride the Maid, so we decided we’d go bottom right so she’d feel a little safer. Holy cow, y’all, we had quite the view! And quite the mist. We could hardly hold our heads up, the spray was so hard. It even tore one of my earrings out of my ear, lost forever in the Niagara River. At one point Bear turned to look and couldn’t even see the back of the boat. The kids kept chattering about how they were in Canada! “Another country, Mom! We’re in Canada!”

Dear Bella was a brave girl, but when they cut the engine, she completely freaked, begging us for them to turn the engine back on and turn around. She was convinced that we were going to get sucked under the falls. I’ll admit, there were a couple moments where it felt possible even though I knew it wasn’t. It was phenomenal.

The boat returned us safely to the American side. After drying off, we did some more observing the falls from above before making our way to Cave of the Winds, a walking tour down by the American falls complete with yellow ponchos and a hurricane deck. On our way we stopped so Bri could snap a picture with Nikola Tesla, and I sat down to chat with Ash. As you can clearly see from the picture, I must have been saying something quite exciting for him to be yawning so. Hilarious!

We stood in line in the heat of the morning (I was not expecting 93 degrees in upstate NY!), staying hydrated and snacking on protein bars, but even that wasn’t enough for me. About two-thirds of the way through the line, I looked at Brian and said, “I’m going down.” I could feel my blood pressure dropping, and got down on one knee unable to stand anymore. Because of the gates on either side, there was no way for me to get out of line, so we inched through the line, a few steps, then down on my knee, a few more, then down. We finally came to a place where I could climb over a chain, so I went to the end of the line and sat on the ground to wait for my loves. It scared the kids pretty bad, and I hated the attention it drew to my weakness. The rest did some refreshing, and by the time they came to the end of the line, I was able to walk down to the Cave of the Winds and see the falls from this angle with them. Bella and I avoided the Hurricane Deck, but the boys braved it and Ash-man reached out to touch the falls. It was sensational.

After the Cave of the Winds, we stopped for lunch… all this excitement and we were only halfway through our day?

The next morning found us on the road again, this time for a short drive to a little town with a big museum. The Gennessee Country Village and Museum, according to their website, “features costumed interpreters in restored historic buildings, breathing life into an authentic 19th-Century Country Village. One of the largest living history museums in the country…” Hailed as the Williamsburg of the north (but we liked our Williamsburg in the south much better), we knew our kids would enjoy meandering through the village and seeing life as it would have been back then.

They loved visiting the tinsmith, the blacksmith, the gunsmith, and the cooper. (Incidentally, the cooper in Williamsburg is where our Cooper pup got his name. Last year, we surprised our loves with their “summer basket” full of dog treats and dog bowls and leashes and they learned we were getting a puppy. Taking a day from our Williamsburg weekend to visit Virginia Beach Goldendoodles, they met four adorable pups and picked out the one they wanted. Still too young to return home with us, we left our new puppy with his breeder and headed back to Williamsburg. As we wandered through Williamsburg the next day, talking excitedly about what we should name our boy–oh, y’all, the names they came up with!–our sweet Bear, who loved the cooper best of all, pointed to a barrel and said, “Cooper!” He was just noticing that a cooper would have made it, but we all quickly thought it would be a great name for our pup. So Cooper it is and Coopy-Doopy-Doo is a wonderfully enthusiastic part of our family–and we missed him so much on our trip.)

I was still very tired, so I spent much of the day sitting on benches enjoying my children as they plied the workers with questions and listened avidly to tales of life in the 1800’s. We saw a civil war era hot-air balloon encampment and replica. Bear especially was fascinated by the general’s tools and maps. It’s fun to see them so interested in history and life.

Houses and baseball fields and more houses and then we were on the road again for a short drive to our home for the next three nights… camped right on the shores of Lake Ontario. We set up, had some supper, then headed down to the lake to watch the sunset. It was fabulous. The beauty and size of the lake was awe-inspiring.

It was a soothing feeling to curl up in our home away from home that night with my dears, feeling safe and warm and so full of love. And I kept pinching myself at the wonder of it all, “And tomorrow,” I told myself, “You’re going to see Niagara Falls!” We couldn’t wait!

I am not a camper. I don’t think I ever will be. Outdoorsy will never be included in a definition under my name. However, when Brian grinds the coffee by hand and we enjoy steaming mugs while the children eat yogurt, granola and fruit I am able to take deep breaths and smile. (I know, I know… what we do in Gimli isn’t really camping.) We decided to make our way to the Watkins Glen gorge and take a hike. Poor Ash forgot any other shoes than his flip flops, so we scrambled to find something for him to use and he squeezed his feet into Bear’s old tennis shoes (because he brought two pair!) and we wandered to the beginning point.

The views here were breathtaking. I can only imagine what further up was like, because I had hit my exhaustion point already and knew I could not hike. I found a shady spot at the foot of the gorge while Bri went on ahead with the children. Ash-man especially had a hard time with this and didn’t enjoy being there without me. It was heartbreaking to watch him struggle as they walked away and left me.

Next to me sat a very chatty and very colorful elderly lady who won my heart when she told me I couldn’t have a teenager because I was just a teenager myself. She regaled me with tales of life in New York (50 years and this was her first time at the gorge), life in the Navy (she was a WAVE), winters in New York, and vacationing at the KOA (which was apparently awful because she hated camping) with her daughters. She told me of her daughter’s battle and recovery from cervical cancer and how much she loved her grandchildren. There was a man there, too, with his dog and mother-in-law. We chatted abotu vacationing in the Outer Banks and children running track. It helped pass the time while my loves were gone, and they returned breathless and tired with descriptions of lush scenery and beautiful views.

We headed back to camp, packed up and moved on, driving beside Seneca Lake through New York wine country to a little campground in Geneva which was a perfect spot for a restful afternoon. We were joined by Brian’s elementary school friend, Tish, and her family. It was a wonderful afternoon of swimming and bouncy pad jumping and swinging and sliding and delicious food and drink, of new friends and new stories to share, of laughter and silliness, of heart smiles. It was a much needed middle of our trip break, and I wondered how this could be half over? It felt like we had only begun.

Watkins Glen Vintage Grand Prix is normally in September, but because of paving the track, the races were moved to July. Brian usually takes that weekend each September to go with a bunch of his buddies to watch. This year, I got to be his buddy since I’m such a racing fan (yes, that was laced with sarcasm). So honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to this day and knew it was a day I was giving to my man for the things he loves. I prayed a lot for our day, for my heart to be for Brian and the kids, and that I would choose to enjoy and take interest in what he enjoys, too. Y’all, it wasn’t to bad. In fact, while I didn’t necessarily enjoy watching racing, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Bri and Bear giddy together over engines and cars and speed.

The noise was unbelievable, and I kept asking myself, “I traveled two days from home for this?” But then I’d see my Bear taking picture after picture and ask question after question. He was delighted, and Brian mirrored that delight with each response. We set up our chairs next to the racetrack. Ash immediately curled up with a book (any guesses how many he read while we were on our trip?) and Bella joined her dad and brother at the fence watching. I sat and watched them all and my heart smiled at the joy of my loves.

After a couple races, we returned to Gimli for lunch and some down time. Bri was so good about planning the week around down time for me. We wandered through Watkins Glen for a while and took in the beauty of the town and Seneca Lake. It was breathtaking. Lakes just don’t grow that large where I’m from. We enjoyed walking together and sharing life for a bit before we returned to the raceway for a few more races.

Brian’s dream came true and he got to drive a Jaguar XF autocross (500 and some odd horsepower–I’m told this is important to know). *smile* He was a happy man, and my heart was happy just watching him. Because we paced ourselves and much of the day was sitting, it wasn’t a taxing day and gave me some much needed rest.

We arrived back at Gimli in time to meet up with our dear friend, Kaz (yet another friend from our wedding and a former roommate of Brian’s from college), grill some chops, slice up a pineapple and share life around the campfire. Who would have thought when we were young college kids, fresh and alive with all the future had to offer that we’d have walked through so much suffering in each of our lives? God is faithful. We reminded each other of this as we shared… and His purposes are always, always good.

Kaz knows how to grab the hearts of kids and he won them over immediately as he showed them how to spark wintergreen lifesavers with your teeth at night. Pretty awesome stuff! We played the “once upon a time” game with Kaz, too, and Kaz immediately connected with the boys by infusing his stories with atomic bombs and exploding planets, but don’t worry… there were unicorns and rainbows, too.

It really was a beautiful day together, even if it wasn’t what I would have chosen. But isn’t that what we are called to do with those we love? We share in their joy even if it isn’t ours? And oh my friends, it was so full… so much joy.