9.8.10

Sunday Morning with Lynn

it's humid here. walking outside is like walking into a swimming pool and i feel like i'm drowning every time i step out of the door. i don't know how i survived six flags on Saturday. actually, i didn't. after four years of keeping my feet on the ground, my stomach and my mcdonalds was screaming NO MORE after the second roller coaster of the day. combine that with severe heat and sunshine. not happy.

there is a wooden sign stuck outside of the front door. it says: "Geddie Zoo, do not feed" is big letters. It's so fitting, not because they are animals, but because of the good humored people who live in the first house on the right here on Hidden Trail Ln...one of the most beautiful families in the world.

church for Klein ward starts at one in the afternoon, but I wake up at nine this morning to a knocking at the door and "WAFFLES! WAFFLES!" being yelled down the hall by a combination of three kids. Geoff pokes his head in and laughs at the lines imprinted on my face from the pillow case and echos the yells down the hall: "Dad is making waffles." I groan and throw myself back into bed. my body clock is super messed up from keeping up with four different time zones. only a few minutes later does Daniel wander by my door and poke his head in. "Chels! Waffles!" he yells, looking at me like i'm crazy for not understanding how important breakfast is. I get up slowly and stumble behind him down the stairs into the kitchen. The whole family is gathered around the dinning room table and piles of waffles are stacked at one end. April looks up and waves at me. "You're beautiful!" she signs and i sign back, thanking her and asking if she was having a good morning. Everyone sits down and the feast begins. There is laughter and there is arguing and there is a baby black kitten climbing into my lap and trying to take a bite out of my waffle. it's chaos, but it's beautiful.

After breakfast, the girls and I sprawl out on the floor in the living room with the two kittens and their toys, playing with them and laughing at their silly kitten antics. Laura calls from the back: "Chelsie, mom wants to see you!"

I get up and walk into the dark bedroom connected to the living room. The only sound is of the fans blowing and the slight hiss of the oxygen tanks. There are stuffed animals everywhere and disney princesses and pictures and notes hanging all over the walls and it's very homey. Lynn looks up at me from the bed as I walk towards her side. "No, honey, that's not how it works here. You get in on the other side." I pause and then change my route, climbing into the other side of the bed, curling up on my right side so i'm facing her. We lay there for a minute in silence and then she begins to talk. and my life begins to change.

we talk about pain.
she tells me about knee replacements and how when she was little, she lived in san antonio and went to the zoo one day with her family after seriously hurting her leg. and she tells me about the sunken gardens and how much she loved looking at flowers, even as a little girl. we talk about dealing with pain and she asks me if i'm in pain a lot. "Constantly," i tell her, "but it's the kind of pain that you get used to after a while." She nods in understanding. there is some pain you live with every day that becomes normal and after a while, you just don't feel it anymore. The pain becomes a part of you and you forge forward because acknowledging the pain doesn't get you anywhere. And on days that the pain is worse; the days where you feel it more then usual, those are the days you remember that life is different for you and that things aren't normal. And then you count your blessings. pain is one of them, because you realize that you are blessed in so many other ways.

we talk about hope.
she tells me about getting into the medical field, even though she herself never got into the profession. "I say we, because when your husband goes into something like that, you do it together. it's a commitment that both of you make to each other; because you both need to support each other. so i say 'we'". Support those you love, because they will support you. She tells me about the times dad was working on the Peds oncology floor and about the children she met and the children she watched lose the fight. And she tells me about the church and how she held on to the hope of the atonement and of Christ. And I realize that hope is everything. Without it, we cease to live.

we talk about fighting for what we believe in.
she tells me about adopting my best friend. and how he wasn't supposed to live, but she fought for him because she knew that he was supposed to be a member of their family; because she knew he was supposed to be her son. she talks about fighting for every one of her children's lives and how every challenged she faced with them became a growing experience. She talks about the countless surgeries she watched her children go through and how she thought she was so close to losing April one time that the doctors told her to plan funeral arrangements. "But I knew, I knew that if I kept faith and I kept fighting, things would work out." fighting with love is the most powerful kind of fight you can put up. with love, you can do anything.

we talk about me:
favorite disney character-pluto
favorite princess-belle
favorite color-blue
favorite food-'well, i like m&ms'..."m&ms' are NOT a dinner food!"
favorite dessert-cheesecake
and then she goes on to ask about boys, family and cancer. "i expect to know these things!" she says when i giggle at her endless list.

we talk about dying.
she tells me about how she knew from her first diagoinses that she was going to die, and how dying is not easy. It's slow and it's painful and she worries about her kids. She's not afraid to go, but she's afraid to leave them behind. She talks about how she knows she doesn't have a lot of time left and she still has so much she wants to do. and I tell her that we'll do things while I'm here and we make a list of stuff to get done in the next couple days. And I think about how important it is to live life, to do things that scare me, to take the opportunity to learn things, to tell people i love them whenever i have the chance. I think about how hard it must be to lose the ability to do daily chores or to put away dishes and I vow to myself to never complain about taking the trash out again. "you learn to appreciate the small moments," she says quietly as her eyes droop shut. "because those moments become everything to you." she pauses for a moment. "Sorry, I'm drugged." and she laughs and I laugh with her because I know.

"you're a breath of fresh air," she says as I climb out of bed because I have to get ready for church. I tell her that i'll come back after church and we'll keep on talking. "okay hunny, i love you." she calls out after me and i think about how I've only known her for two days and I love her too and she's changed my life in more then one way.

1 comment:

Alexandra said...

Currently crying. Thank you so much for writing this. I will come back to this post often.