-=-namaste-=-

tuesday, december 11

One of my patients last week and this week was the sweetest and most precious three year old with leukemia. Her mom just died on Thursday in the same hospital from liver cancer. Her dad is hanging on by a thread as he tries to make funeral arrangements. The little girl doesn't have the ability to comprehend that her mother is gone.

One of the men who works with the oncology group that is treating precious girl also works at Macy's. Macy's sent over a ton of cute cute kid clothes for my little one and some little black patent mary janes which she wore all over the hospital yesterday with her pajamas carrying her little new black patent purse with the bow on it. The oncology group took the dad to Banana Republic and got him a nice suit to wear to the funeral and some other clothes.

This story is not meant purely to depress you.

I have learned so many things from my lamb and her dad. First, I speak so horribly about the big chain stores all the time. BUT, I think that Macy's and Banana Republic actually gave all of that stuff to them. I'm not sure. But if they did, it goes to show me that I can't generalize every big company into the evil box. Kind of like the owner of Intel setting up the big fund to donate money to that environmental group...(not sure of details of story).

Second, and more important... the other night I was taking care of my precious as her mom was upstairs dying. Her dad was up there with her mother. Precious was wild as most three year olds are, and she has this thing called a chest tube from a surgery she had. Although she feels like a champ, (she asked an old man on a gurney in the elevator if he was sick. Someone else asked her if she was sick, and she said, "nope.") she can't be jumping around because if it got pulled out of her lung that would be bad. ANYWAY, (sorry for those who are squeamish) all of the child life people had gone home, and I had another patient. she needed someone with her at all times. Our manager called the volunteer department, and they said their volunteers had all gone home.

About thirty minutes later, an older woman named Judy arrived. The volunteer office had called her at home. She had already gone home for the day, and when she heard that a three year old needed company she came back in the cold night to be with her. She knew the dad and his family's story from her volunteer job in the cafe where he often came for lunch, and she had a feeling that the three year old in need was probably his little one.

People amaze me. Just when I doubt that there are many truly good ones out there with pure intentions, they come rushing in out of the night to scrub the PICU floor with my little one (she loves to clean and often scrubs the walls and floor with diaper wipes. I know it's dirty, but we pretty much let her do whatever the heck those big brown eyes desire).

Another lesson that I have learned from all of this is... surely I can't seriously complain about how messy our apartment is or how i feel tired or how the people on the bus are loud. At least I am not three years old with leukemia and recently motherless.

I'm sorry to post something this heavy, but it is really affecting me and what affects me ends up here. I haven't been talking much about it. not really ready to go in depth in my thoughts on it. I just wanted to get some of it out of me. One encouraging thing, though, is that the little one is in complete remission and has an excellent prognosis. and a great dad whom she loves so much.

If you pray, please pray for my little one. If you don't, send her some thoughts or strong energy or love. If you want to send her presents, you could email me at harper at honan.net and i'll get back to you to tell you where to send them.

3:17 PM 0 comments

sunday, december 9

This weekend was a shiny thing wrapped in crisp cool air and orange and yellow leaves.

Thai food on Friday night at Ploy II. That place is always so hot and you can sit in your short sleevs and look out the Victorian windows at the foggy coldness as you inhale warming spices and feel them heat your belly and heart. The lady that's always there smiles as we blow in from the street and seats us and gives us the familiar menu. Every time we go, i imagine that we are in Thailand and eating dinner like this every night before we go back to our tiny cabin on the beach to play guitar and gaze at the stars over the ocean... so far away.

Saturday Hamotam in the park was another in a long progression of crossroads in my path. I have been stressed, controlling, cranky, mind pulsing with lists of things that I should do at every moment which are never what I am actually doing at the moment. We got to the statue, hugged our AMAZING!!!! friends, and I paused to look around at the scene around me. Free Dirt warming up for their flag football game, an old beautiful golden retriever playing frisbee, instruments and a drum kit strewn about the base of a statue, leaves changing colors as we breathe and sunlight filtering through the oldest trees in Golden Gate Park. And my friends... my west coast family all here and smiling or smoking or playing an instrument in their own little world. (when I speak of friends, i include my very best friend, mat).

My cranky heart welled up and softened a bit. I picked up my guitar and started playing as a man from Jamaica walks up and starts talking to Matthew about something that I am only aquiring bits of. I smile and nod when I agree with what he's saying, but mostly I'm thriving in the sheer COMMUNITY of this day. A man drawn to us because we are making music and performing for no one in the middle of the panhandle.

we played for a while and when I got thirsty I just hopped back on my bike and rode through the crisp but sunny afternoon. Little boy throwing the football with his dad. A couple carrying their kids. Neighbors hanging out on their front steps. Two friends hugging on the sidewalk. sigh... I love our neighborhood... These images seemed constructed just for me to open up my heart. alter my perception.

we played until it started to get chilly and then split up with plans to meet at Matthew's later.

I practiced yoga while mat ran errands. My spirit soared . I was back at home in a body that had been ignored. I cried for the sadnesses of the past week stored in my muscles. I smiled and breathed. When mat came in the door two hours later I was still practicing and had no idea how long it had been. My body pulsed with energy unblocked.

At Matthew's, we hung out in our lazy clothes and socks and laughed and took pictures on Melissa's incredibly cute Vespa and drank warming red wine and laughed laughed laughed. The room burned with energy, and my heart shook me and said, "these moments are what matter. these days are what matter. These are the things that I will never forget and the people that i will always love."

suddenly my aggravating lists of things that I "need" to be doing seem like only noise that comes through when i allow it. Lately I have been allowing it to dominate. I leave the weekend and go into the week renewed, refreshed, about five or ten years younger, joyful. I continue to learn and be heartened by the intense power that real friendships, fresh air, moving my body, trees, mat, and deep breaths possess to reroute me on the path that I want to follow.

7:45 PM 0 comments