Potpourri

Not much to report on Dad. Still no word from M.D. Anderson so it's a bit frustrating. My birthday was this week so we had dinner with Dad and Colleen and she pointed out that he is exactly twice as old as I am. I know all of this is obvious to everyone, but the striking part of that fact is that he was my age when I was born. For some reason, that is very strange to me. It kind of makes me feel older somehow. To make it even more bizarre, I am exactly half as mature as my age would suggest. (Help me somebody...)

I have gotten to witness how people react to families in crisis a few times, I suppose. That's kind of weird to say, because I frankly feel like my family has been incredibly blessed. Sure, some hard times have come our way but I think they have been flash fires rather than smoldering fires. Both leave scars, but we have been able to move on- never forgetting the landscape before the fire and maybe wondering if our charred surroundings will ever flourish again, but still being able to function in the wake of those memories rather than constantly fighting flames. Other families have had to deal with chronic difficulties like disabilities, abuse, poverty, family disfinction, war, etcetera. As dark as it may seem when cancer casts a shadow over a family, at least we have the opportunity to see hope in the situation. At least that's how I see it.

I also believe that our ability to see this glimmer of hope through the haze of smoke (or to use another favorite image from a hymn- to trace the rainbow through the rain) is not directly anchored in the belief that God will heal my Dad (of whatever it is he has). In fact, I don't think He will. Dad doesn't either. We both believe whole-heartedly that God can. It's just that after all we've seen, we don't think He works that way, necessarily. Who knows? God is God and we are not. He'll work that out and we'll just trust Him. That should work pretty well, I think.

Anyway, in seeing how people react to families in crisis, I can still be surprised. Here are some of the things I have heard from people who have learned of Dad's illness. As Dave Barry would say, I am not making this up.

"Wait- where will he be buried?"

"Oh, that's too bad. Who is this?"

"So, after your mom and your sister and now your dad, you're probably wondering when you'll be next, huh?"

"Well, at least you've been through this before."

Except for the "Who is this?" which was funny and happened when my aunt thought I was someone else, none of the others were things I had thought of on my own. The last two have actually been said to me more than once in the last few weeks. It's a crazy world. Yep. Someone should sell tickets...
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Back to the more mundane, I would just like to say that there are three kinds of people in thie world; those who can count and those who can't.
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Remember that remodeling being done on our house that was supposed to take 30 days and started on September 7? Yeah, well I am getting very anxious about having a lot of company at Thanksgiving while some walls and doors may be missing and floors have no covering.
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Our family has just been introduced to Guitar Hero (Guitar Hero 3, to be exact). Are all the addiction support groups already full?
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Cooper v. Abilene High tomorrow. Hoo boy! Isn't it enough to know we're all winners in our own way? No? AHS by 8.
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They sang to me at a restaurant the other night. Happy Birthday, dear Gert! Apparently when there's cheesecake involved, I'll answer to anything.
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