The rain is coming down, every tree branch, every plant leaf a slolam course for fat drops racing each the other to the earth. The grey sky has no texture, both bright and dark to the eye. Bare alders look like blood vessels and capillaries jutting into the sky and then abruptly ending without warning or cause.

A duck quacks loud and annoyed. He clearly woke up on the wrong side of the pond. He’s been kvetching all day.

I’m sitting in the leather chair, knees curled up, feet resting on the matching hassock. Over my legs, I have a thick fuzzy brown blanket that’s doing a lovely job of keeping me warm. Paul’s at his computer. His feet are resting on the table’s supports underneath, his feet moving up and down as though pumping an invisible organ. His mouse hand taps out that rhythm, fast and percussive, that he always taps out when he’s programming. In the bedroom, Amira is either awake or asleep. I don’t know. I’m guessing awake.

Tova’s asleep on his bed with a remaining piece of chewed cardboard under his nose. There is a light snore whispering with each breath. Muta jumps briefly when I move to look at him. He quickly settles back in. He weighs less than 8 lbs. Still he’s taking up the whole couch.

The sun must have set behind the curtain of grey. Suddenly, there is depth and contrast in the sky. Darker clouds in front of lighter, and lighter overlapping darker.

There goes the duck again. Quack-kvetch-a-quack-quack!

This is the first day I’ve sat down to write in months. The process feels wobbly. Much has happened over the last while and I want to try to begin the work of writing it. Seismic changes on my internal landscape and geography have formed new valleys and mountains in my soul. My spirit soars. It reminds me of the fearsome, breath-taking views at Glacier Nat’l Park. There too, my spirit grows larger than me. It is probably the only time that I’d say it is okay that I can’t breathe. Well, I can breathe… only in gasps and swallows of awe.

As I’m writing, it occurs to me that my life is bigger, freer and open to unlimited possibility in a way it never has been before. What has been years in the making has finally happened. Last year, I finally released my need to hang onto what had become the scraps and tattered remains of my Christianity. There probably is a book to write filled with what took me from there to here. It’s a memoir spanning 20 years, if not 30. I won’t start an outline right away though - as I’m sure it would be an interesting read to an audience of, oh, one. But, this last year, finally… FINALLY severed that last thin and tenuous thread. I was released, free. And, at the risk of making a bad pun, Thank God! Free!

I have to believe that the timing of this is exactly what it should be. I have to put away the temptation of wishing it had happened 10-15 years before now. Yet my journey was and is just that - my journey.It’s the perfect time line and the perfect outcome.

Hence, the new land - new, foreign mountains and valleys. It’s thrilling with a chaser of “Where do I go now? No path looks familiar, nothing looks like anything I’ve seen before.” I’m looking for new trail maps, guides and traveling companions. I already found some. Not surprisingly (when I think about it), they were next to me waiting all along. They were with me, next to me - waiting, speaking, and loving me. They’ve been here, even before my eyes, ears and heart were aware they were. What a gift to see them now. Constant. Eternal. Loving. And. Right There!

It’s like the view of my day, my life. The rain, my family, the duck and the sky. It’s always been there, whether I took notice or not. I hope my language and understanding will become more facile as I go. Suffice it to say, for now, NOW that I’m looking, I’m transformed by it all.

Night before last, an image came into my mind of daffodils.  It came to me while Paul was praying with and for me for peace.  I was going in for a medical test and was afraid.  The image was clear and strong.  I was given a spiritual bouquet of daffodils.  The anxiety I had prior to the prayer and the bouquet was near to overwhelming and after… released.

I found myself curious about what daffodils mean, and did a little research.  The first definition I found resonated with me.

Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.  Lore connecting the daffodil to not only a sign of winter’s end but a lucky emblem of future prosperity.  It is the March birth flower (*interestingly, March is my birth month).

This means as much to me about my life and where it is headed as it does about my concerns and challenges with my health.  They are tied together, inseparable. Regardless of the outcome of the tests, this symbolism was and is a perfect, loving and supportive message to me.

I also searching on the spiritual meaning of daffodils and found:

Daffodils have meanings of faith, honesty, truth, forgiveness, and forthrightness.  They are ever vigilant in returning each spring, and with their return we are reminded that their beauty is capable of following on the shirttails of even the harshest winters (or tribulations).

- and -

The daffodil is symbolic of the power of inner beauty and the clarity of thought.  It reminds us that clarity of thought makes our whole world change and it makes many decisions easier of they are not over analyzed but instead clarified and soundly resolved.

“Their beauty capable of following on the shirttails of even the harshest winters (or tribulations)…” Much of this season of life that I’ve been living in has felt, truthfully, ugly to me.  And at my darker moments, I’ve despaired of either my life or of me ever being beautiful again.  This definition interprets like a promise… and promise rooted and birthed in faith, honesty, truth, forgiveness and forthrightness.

“…clarity of though makes our whole world change…”  And in the darker moments, what I have lacked is clarity (and honesty) of thought.  So, again for me, this is yet another hope filled horizon in the symbolism.

Last, but not least, I found this beautiful William Wordsworth poem that is so worth sharing with you.  I hope you enjoy it.

“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” or “Daffodils”

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Daffodils have never been my favorite flower, and I don’t see them being my favorite after this either.  And yet, they do now hold a special place and even more importantly, a loving and embracing message for me. I’m hoping that something in this message to me will be a valuable, sustaining and a loving and embracing message for you too.

After my “great declaration of 2009 that I must write”, I haven’t done much of it, have I? At least, not here. I have been writing in my journal and that’s been good. I also decided last week to take part in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  This might be a little insane, but it feels like the right and good kind of insane.  If all of you, my sweet and dear readers, haven’t abandoned hope of updates on this site… I hope you start checking back in.  Your thoughts and comments are always so wonderful and welcome.

Weekend before last, Paul, Amira, Mom, Dad & I went to Whidbey Island.  We stayed at Fort Casey Inn. I have a lot of pictures from that weekend to share with you.

These are from the rocky and driftwood filled beach at Fort Casey.

We had the most perfect weather (well, except for not enough wind for kite-flying, which caused Paul a little frustration).

The beach was our next to last stop of the weekend.

Paul & I couldn’t remember when we had a weekend like this.  It was spiritually awakening, renewing, and energizing.  The beauty was nearly more than I could hold.

Amira spoke of never going home.

The weekend was filled with beautiful, sweet, peaceful, happy, and joyful moments.  One lapping on top of the other.

This morning, as Paul was leaving for work, I told him how wonderful it was that our family name has only become more appropriate and meaningful.  With each day, we have become more immersed in today, in now, in this and every moment.  We are so glad we are the Moments.

I’m wondering how many times it will take. I’ve had this realization countless times. I’ve written about it here. I haven’t searched to find out just how many, but I’m sure it is an cheek-blushingly high number. Posting to Facebook doesn’t cut it. Composing lengthy emails to friends gets closer, but it’s not it either. I use these as placeholders. I feel their inadequacy, even when I don’t know it.

I crossed paths with a quote by a playwright/screenwriter recently that, often, reflects how I feel about writing: “I don’t like to write, but I love to have written.” Sometimes, while in the moment, I do enjoy it. Mostly though, the work of writing is stretching, awkward, and laborious. It is rewarding, but not in a instant-gratification-sugar-high kind of way.

“I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.”
-Joan Didion

Writing is similar to photography - it requires a consciousness. It asks me to be aware of life (and not just my own). It invites me to see it, record it, review it and breathe it in again a second time. The brilliant and magical part of it to me? The second time around is no less new.

My friend Tabby and her husband Clyde came into town on Sunday for a short visit.  It was so good to see Tabby - it has been nearly 10 years.  MUCH, much too long!

Yesterday, we spent some time together leisurely walking through Port Gamble.

It was a perfect day with blue skies, light breezes and warm sunshine.

Tabby and I walked around with our camera snapping photos.  Port Gamble was incredibly photogenic.  With every click, she showed off for us.

Seems like a lifetime ago… but at the beginning of this month, Paul, Amira & I went to the zoo with my Dad and Uncle Preston.  We had a really great day.  I’m only posting these photos now because I’ve been without Photoshop for a while now… and I just got it re-installed!  Yay!  More photos coming soon!

Here are a few highlights of our day:

Elephants are amazing, aren’t they? They are other-planetary, other-worldly, other-other, to me.  I look at them and see a creature that lives in a place I’ll never see or understand.  It’s hard to explain. In seeing them, I feel like I can see a reflection or a shimmer of light from the world they live in and experience, but I can’t actually know it.  Just beautiful.

Speaking of other-worlds, the sea otter. They transport me to a place of happiness and play.

The penguins. What a brilliant exhibit that lets the kids and the penguins interact like this!

Amira with two of her favorite men in the world - Uncle Preston and Papa!  She’s got good taste! 

This lovely restored carousel at the zoo is an irresistible magnet for Amira. Her ever-awesome Uncle Preston treated her to a ride.  You can see, it was a hit!

The ride home was no less perfect!

It’s been just over a week since my surgery. I went in, last Wednesday morning, very nervous and literally shaking. As they sat in me in the chair, hooked up the heart monitors, put me on an IV, I reminded myself to breathe. I watched my quickened heart beats on the monitor and willed it to slow. I didn’t have any success.

The doctor finally appeared and asked how I was doing. I mumbled something about as good as could be expected given the circumstances. He smiled and ran over one more time what was going to be done and how I would feel after I woke up from the anesthesia. I don’t remember getting sleepy or falling asleep.

I woke up to the doctor talking to me. They were finishing up something and he was telling me about it, but I have no idea what they were doing or even what he said. I can’t remember. I was shaking. I woke up terribly cold. Apparently, that’s normal.

The good news, the surgery was predicted to last 1-1/2 to 2 hours. I was done in an hour. My post-op pain was minor. It wasn’t until the 3rd day post op that I stopped focusing on my mouth and the soreness I felt. That day, the swelling had subsided enough that I could attempt a smile. And by myself, in front of the mirror behind the closed bathroom door, I did.

I have a confession. Prior to the surgery, I took photos of myself. I took them into Photoshop and tried to mimic what I might look like after the surgery. I blacked out the teeth I knew I was going to lose. I wanted to prepare myself.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at my smile, Photoshop or not, I wasn’t prepared. My heart sank and my stomach felt like it would turn inside out. It was worse, especially on the right side. My profile was horrible. I felt sick. The next two days, I talked with my lips pulled close together and my smiles clamped tight.

I won’t lie. I hate it. I can’t tell you how much. But, sometime over the weekend… I decided I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t shut down. It felt unnatural and worse it felt deadening. I’m an animated person. I love to smile and laugh. It’s what makes my life beautiful.

Over the last 5 days, I’ve smiled, laughed and been with my family, my friends, the cashier at the grocery store, the co-worker from Paul’s work and so on. I have twinges and pangs here and there. I feel the urge to pull back. But I don’t and I won’t. I still hope and pray that implants are possible and in my near future. But until then…

I’ll smile and love my life.

I can’t say thank you enough to my wise and beautiful friends who counseled and encouraged me. I’m doing, what not even a month ago, seemed to be impossible. I couldn’t imagine it. Yet, here I am. Thank you!

A quick email from my Aunt Karen reminded me that I haven’t posted to my blog. I’ve fallen into a habit of making little updates on my Facebook page, but that doesn’t keep the rest of you in the loop. Plus, it’s good for me to take time to write in concentrated chunks and not just one or two sentence liners. So, let’s catch up.

The last few days have been trial by pain. I’ve been fortunate up to this point to have no pain. About a week ago, it finally caught up with me and when it did… wow. You hear people say “There’s nothing like tooth pain.” — but boy… there is NOTHING like tooth pain. My dentist changed my meds and put me on a stronger antibiotic and more intense pain meds. For a while, the pain meds didn’t even put a dent in the pain. Either they are now working better, or the antibiotic is containing the infection more… but today, I’m doing 100% better. And for the record, I don’t know how people get addicted to these kinds of pain killers… I *hate* the way I feel on them. They give me a headache and make me just feel awful. My surgery is scheduled for the 22nd. I never thought I would say this, given my anxiety about losing my teeth, but at this point surgery day can’t come soon enough.

Psychologically, I’m still working my way through this situation. I have a dear friend back from my high school and college days that I’m going to get to see in a few days. I’m excited to see her and I don’t want to in the same breath. I hate that I have that internal back and forth every time I have the chance to get together with a friend. I am self-conscious about my teeth. (I’m already missing one and have another that is 3/4ths broken away.) After the surgery - I will have two teeth on each side missing. My friend Tabby is coming at the end of the month… a week or two after my surgery. I haven’t seen her in years. She knows and loves me and I know, of course, she will even with missing teeth. And, I deeply don’t want to see her because of this. I haven’t yet gotten into the space where I can just get past it…

Paul & I are committed to earning the money to get my teeth replaced. My incredible friend Dana is fund raising for me. If anyone has a fighting chance to get her mouth repaired, it’s me. I’m so fortunate. And I still wage these internal battles.

Night before last, I was searching online for additional ways to manage my pain. I found forum after forum with posts upon posts from other people out there dealing with pain like me. It broke my heart that so many people are without the means and resources to get the care they need. I don’t know the solution(s) for this - but it’s criminal that so many are dealing with this level of pain and threat to their health and lives.

Amira broke down into tears yesterday because she didn’t want me to be hurting. My sweet girl. She told me again and again, “I’ll take care of you Mama.” She gave me kisses on the cheek to make it feel better. She gave me tender hugs and then went to her Daddy for her own hugs of comfort. After the immediate wave of pain passed and I could think straight and be with her… I went to her, held her and told her I was going to be okay. I promised her that I would be. She looked at me with those big beautiful brown eyes and I could tell she needed that promise.

One of my friends read a book a while back that made the argument that we arrange our own challenges and experiences in life before we are born. Our souls make an agreement with God before we are born regarding what it is we are to go through and what we want and hope to learn through it. Because I haven’t actually read the book, I’m certain that I’m paraphrasing it poorly.

From that point of view, I can’t help by wonder why I would choose losing my teeth as a learning experience. And I feel a little betrayed by my eternal spirit for agreeing to put me through this.

But the idea that my eternal soul may be grown and transformed by these prearranged experiences has stuck with me. I’ve been looking at my challenges, internal and experientially, differently. What if my eternal spirit did agree to this struggle? If so, I certainly shouldn’t resist it. And even more than that, I should be embracing it wholly. What is there to learn? Who am I going to be through it? How can my experience, my personal learning and growth make a difference not only for my eternal spirit, but also for everyone else too?

Learning to smile, to live life freely and fully through a broken smile. That’s my experience to learn, grow and flourish in. Wish me luck - and thanks so much, already, for how you’ve supported and helped me on my way.

those cheapie, plastic teeth that you pick up at Archie McPhee’s. 

You all are incredible in your willingness to let me just write and express the raw emotions I’ve been going through.  I had hoped that writing it out would help me move past it, and it did.  Granted, I’m not happy or eager to continue through this, and I’m sure I will still shed a tear or two.  And yet, I feel so much better.  I don’t feel fetal.  A combination of just letting it out like a good cry and receiving so much love and support - I feel good!

And today, I came across this quote by Henry Miller - which I’m certain is not a coincidence:

“Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate, or despise, serves to defeat us in the end.

What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.“

This is going to be a one-time self-indulgent post. I shouldn’t even do it once. But it’s bothering me so much, I’m hoping by writing it out, it might lessen the power it has over me.

If you’d rather not read the mental twists and knots this teeth situation has me in, I invite you to skip it. I won’t be hurt.

————————————-

Last night, I had a specific, “real-time” dream of going in to get my teeth pulled. The dream began with me waking up from the anesthesia. I remember feeling very peaceful and rested, like I had just had the best night’s sleep. Then, the surgeon came into focus as I looked around to orient myself. He asked if I was feeling okay and told me everything went fine.

I remembered suddenly why I was there and my tongue felt around in my mouth. I felt the gaps where the teeth had been. I was surprised that I wasn’t feeling any pain, although I found I couldn’t talk (and actually couldn’t the rest of the dream).

I left the office and once I got home, I panicked. I worried I didn’t have gauze packs in to absorb the bleeding from the extractions and to help the healing process. Then suddenly, they were there. The rest of my dream was me trying to gingerly make sure the gauze stayed in place and hoping that I would heal okay.

I woke up this morning and thought to myself: at least that wasn’t a nightmare (which I’ve had) about my teeth. But now, as I’m moving through my day, I’m finding it hard to do what I need to through this wall of emotion. It’s like trying to run through thick molasses that’s up to your waist. I just want to curl up and cry.

I think part of it too is this. I’m still floored by the generosity of my friend Dana and the work she has taken on to help us and others like us.  On the flipside, I’ve had a hard time with the judgment we’ve exposed ourselves too by sharing our situation and being the face for this kind of thing. Well meaning friends, acquaintances and strangers say things that cut to the quick. I know in my head some of it is sincere questioning in an attempt to understand how we could need SO MUCH money to get our teeth repaired and restored. (I say our, but in reality, 90% of the cost is for me alone.) Questions like:

• “What have you been eating?”
• “Is it gum disease?”
• “How come you just didn’t have dental insurance?”
• “Are you *sure* you aren’t being scammed by your dentist?”
• “Do you just not like to brush your teeth?”
• “It’s your own fault you are in this situation, why should I help you?”

And so on. I confess, as much as I want to be thick skinned and a potential (for lack of a better word) ambassador for awareness and education, for the ailing health and dental care system in America, and for understanding dental infection and disease… I didn’t expect the toll it would take on my psyche.

It’s horrible knowing I’m going to lose four very visible teeth and to not be sure whether I will have the money to replace them with implants. It’s horrible feeling like I don’t want to be seen in public again after the surgery. I’m missing one tooth now and I have another on the other side that is broken. Both are visible, but not horribly so. Just dealing with those has taken an unbelievable amount of willpower. My instinct is want to shut down and hide. I don’t want to smile. I force it. I think about it every time I talk to someone. Every time. I look in the mirror and wonder if there is a way I can change my smile, without holding my lips together, to not have the gaps in my teeth not be visible. (There’s not.)

And you know, it’s not the questions so much as the context of the questions that hurt so much. There’s assumption and judgment. Again, I understand that some of these were sincere with the goal of understanding how I could be in the situation I’m in now. I understand that. And, still it hurts.

I want to both hide my shame and fight back in anger at the same time. How dare so and so assume that I don’t eat well. Do I ask a cancer sufferer what they’ve been eating? We don’t do that. But cancer is just as much caused by diet as any caries infection. My dentist told me on our last visit: “Janece, you could have had impeccable diet and hygiene and you would still be in this situation. You have a bacterial infection that without intervention would and has done the damage you are now experiencing.” I didn’t know that, so how could have the person(s) who asked that question? And still… I’m hurt.

We have dental insurance though Paul’s work, but it will cover less than 4% of the work needed. I’ve had a second opinion and confirmation on the diagnosis, prognosis and treatment that I need. I brush and floss my teeth like everyone else. And yes, I’m at fault for this because I didn’t know what was happening in my mouth until I had my first abscess nearly a year ago. I’m at fault because for years, we prioritized our money in other ways because my dental health didn’t seem to be a concern. When you aren’t covered by insurance as a freelancer, you delay and forgo doctor and dentist visits if they don’t seem absolutely necessary. In hindsight, big, big mistake.

But listen to me, I’m trying to convince you. I’m trying to convince MYSELF that I’m not someone to look down on, or to judge, or to think lesser of. And I hate that.

And my biggest fear is how I’m going to live with 4 teeth missing and not become a recluse. I don’t know if I wrote about it here - but a few months back, I interviewed for a job. The job had a crew of people for me to meet with and be interviewed by. The first three went great, the fourth asked me this: “How long have you been drug-free?” I stammered a reply that I’m not certain made sense because I was so shocked by the question.  I didn’t get a call back for a second interview.  Could have been unrelated, but I have no way of knowing. It’s how it is - we judge by appearances. I judge by appearances… god, if I could change that…

I don’t know. How do I do it? How do I go to school interviews for Amira and not be afraid they are judging her and her capabilities because of how I look? How do I get over seeing people’s eyes shift down to the gaps in my teeth? How do I feel beautiful again? Where will I find the courage to smile? I hope it’s one of those things that when you get there, you find you have the strength you never thought you would… because I just don’t see it right now.

So get this!  We Moments have a virtual date with the gorgeous Natalie and the entire Chicken Blog family! Yesterday, in the mail, Paul found a tiny pale blue envelope addressed to the ‘Moment Family’. We recognized that return address right away and had smiles on our faces before even opening it. The smiles on our faces rapidly overtook our hearts as we read an invitation from Natalie to a virtual picnic together. The date has been set, July 18th, and we will have cameras charged and CF cards purged and ready for action.

Natalie, you have NO IDEA how much this picnic invitation means. We are so looking forward to July 18th. Our hearts, as well as our picnic basket, will be brimming with goodness because of you! Thank you so very much.

By the way, Amira read the entire card and your note… getting stuck on only a few words (how proud am I?). She was as touched by it as we were!

Anyone else want to join in on the July 18th virtual picnic?  Please do!  Make a date of it, take a camera and let’s share a virtual picnic together.   Doesn’t it sound wonderful?  We’ll lift our glasses and toast what a gift it is to have incredible friends.

Right now, as I type, there is a fund raising event going on in New York City. A world renown pianist is playing and a premier cancer surgeon is speaking and incredibly smart and talented people are giving their time to be there. I sent Dana a short note to read at the event:

Two weeks ago, we were plunged into fear and emotional paralysis at the healthcare crisis we were suddenly facing. Eleven days ago, on a dime, this initiative took our fear and anxiety and transformed it into a sense of hope and possibility.

The depth of gratitude and support we feel… there isn’t a way to express it. For the last two weeks, instead of darkness, our lives have been filled with the light new friendships and daily inspiration. And most of all, it means so much to us that it has created the possibility of our situation being the doorway for others like us finding help too.

The fact that… you are here tonight and that there is something all of us can do, right now to make it a healthier and better day for each other and ourselves… inspires deep hope. We are excited by the belief that this initiative can spread, friend by friend, to build hope for the many other individuals and families who have found themselves in a crisis like we have. It really does make all the difference.

If you haven’t already, visit the Friend of a Friend Healthcare Initiative.  And please consider passing it along to your friends. The more friends that are involved, the more people are helped!