Author: cometsgirl

It was with mixed emotions that I boarded my flight to Albuquerque today. In the decades I’ve been flying, I’ve generally flown once a month. I’m now rusty. Especially with these legs and back I’m trying to use.

I needed to see this vastness again.

It was hard navigating the airport today. Start, stop, and wait. Repeat.

It was a challenge to be chair-bound. Then a friend suggested I turn the wheelchair into a walker. That worked! I drove myself to the head of the boarding queue, parked and enjoyed a “little extra time” boarding.

Gazing out the window as we taxied it felt familiar, but not quite.

As we became airborne I was reminded, “He will put his angels in charge of you to watch over you carefully.” Luke 4:10

And just like that I was back in my chair in the sky.

I arrived first in Albuquerque and so was parked in baggage to await my traveling friend. I’ve new appreciation for those who are parked and must wait for any assistance. Yes, wait for any.

Eventually I took matters into my own strong arms, and crafted an escape from my bench. After all, I needed to charge up my devices!

At last she arrived and we were on our way north to Taos!

First up, sustenance for the drive.

As a passenger today, I took all the road photos I wanted.

Such a different landscape from that of our usual winter travel.

Now home and in for the night, with doors open, gentle rain, and in the 50’s. Time for rest.

It’s good to be back in travel mode.

While this phrase has its origins in the Hemingway novel A Farewell to Arms, and in a greater context of more than these five words, it fits the time and place in which I find myself.

This image is what I imagine my back nerves and structure look like.

And let me say, those nerves have a painfully annoying way of getting my attention.

Right now I don’t know how well I will get put back together, but I believe that where the broken places are healed, there will be new strength.

This has been a hard time for me. I’ve struggled under the weight of pain, under the weight of losing the image of myself I have long put forth, and under the unknown level of hope I’m able to gather up. I’ve had times of real discouragement. And believe me when I say, I have mastered the “art” of sobbing.

And yet, “she persisted”.  And yet, she persists.

I’m a traveler. I’ve not traveled for ninety-six days. Yes, I’m keeping track. I am, though, soon to travel once again. It was heartbreaking to have to cancel the much anticipated return trip to the Faroe Islands this month. Thankfully there are already plans in place to return next year.

In the meantime, Taos, NM awaits. In just four days I will travel once again. I’ve always found Taos, and New Mexico, to be a place of healing. And so, too, this is my expectation for my coming trip.

A few days ago I mentioned to a friend that I would be traveling to New Mexico, and I was asked “how are you going to do that?”.  I don’t recall my exact reply, but it will be one step at a time, with wheeled assistance as needed. Come along.

Traveling mercies.

  

My mobility took a hit – literally – about three weeks ago.

I was involved in a serious hit-and-run accident. A car accident where the car is no more.

THANKFULLY, the two people who were in the car are still “more”.

It was enough of a crash to jolt the already tenuous order of things in my back. Not enough to immediately stop me in my tracks, but enough for the progression of activities and actions that followed over the next few days, to bring me to a standstill.

I’ve traded my Miata wheels for these. I’ve gone from high performance to just barely performance.

I’m known as one who is always on the move, on the go. It’s me, it’s my identity. May I say, my “persona”?

So in addition to my mobility, my persona has taken a hit.

Today, however, I did up the performance option. I boarded a scooter at the local grocery. I took a quick look at how to drive this vehicle and took off.  I saw a friend checking out and when he glanced my way, I called out “it’s my first time on this ride!” We exchanged big smiles.

I ran – almost – into another friend, and we just delighted in the mystery of obstacles and opportunities.  

I had dreaded this moment. I had not wanted anyone to see me. Yet, when it happened I was able to quickly diffuse the power it had held over me. Being seen in the company of smiling friends soothed my bruised ego.

 

All in all it was a successful navigation of the grocery aisles. I only backed into the shelves twice, and Evan learned to stay just far enough away so as to not be run into or rolled over, yet close enough to gather high-up items when I signaled.

Traveling mercies.

A friendly hello at check-in.

Anesthesia administered.

Incisions.

Prayer.

Ice chips.

Wound management.

Vital signs.

Mobile.

Fluids.

Rest.

Discharged.

Mother’s Day at home.

Gratitude.

I’m headed home tomorrow. Traveling mercies.

I have to learn how to do what??

And that also??

I’m aware I’ve generally avoided these kinds of tasks. I’ve not been at all drawn to this kind of hands-on activity. Hands-on for me is art and craft making; cooking even.

Clay, pens and watercolors, and extra virgin olive oil are more likely to be my tools.

Not these. But they are my tools, for now.

Yesterday I was trained by a skilled and licensed care giver – a nurse at the hospital where I found myself. My sister underwent surgery and I had come to help. However I had not thought my help would be care giving at this level.

Well, it is what it is.

I love Arizona. The vistas and the sky enchant me. On the way to the hospital yesterday morning I was gifted with this view.

As we prepared to leave the hospital last night, contrails painted the sky.

I’ve just now read about this hospital and the organization under which it operates. Check this out:

CommonSpirit Health was founded by women religious, with a long, proud legacy of serving all people in need, especially those who’ve been made vulnerable by poverty, age, and other hardships.

This may explain why the days began with prayer as patients and healthcare providers gather for the work of healing.

While I had not thought I would be capable of learning and then actually achieving these skills, surprise! It turns out I am a somewhat, and narrowly trained, care giver.

The garden below is located just off the entrance to the hospital. It’s lovely place of respite for patients and care givers.

“The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” Isaiah 58:11

This care giver needs a Starbucks right now! I’m going to grab my patient and head out the door.

I took a drive yesterday. My destination was a plant nursery in Seneca, South Carolina. I had heard from a gardenia-loving friend this was the place to find gardenia plants. Not just any gardenias, rather, amazing gardenias.

It’s a pretty straight-forward drive from here to there. Basically two turns from Clayton, GA, to Seneca. About an hour.

Not so when using the Google Maps app. Instead of an expected direct drive, I ended up on a country road driving adventure. What a beautiful day it was to drive country roads.

I listened to an episode of the podcast, On Being, with Krista Tippet as I drove. It was an interview with Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, titled The Difference between Curing and Healing. Rachel, Krista and I traveled roads of transportation and roads of words this day.

Remen spoke about looking at the art of healing from the perspective of sharing woundedness. Shared wounds let us all be healers. We are able to connect through the wisdom we have gained and the personal growth that has happened to us as we traversed our own hurts and loss.

Remen says “the way we deal with loss shapes our capacity to be present to love more than anything else, and each of us – with our wounds and flaws- has exactly what’s needed to help repair the part of the world that we see and touch.”

We receive healing through a shared experience with one who has had the wound of loss with the one now facing a loss. I also believe shared joy goes a long way toward healing.

We often may feel we are not enough to make a difference. We feel we need to be more- to be a different person than we are. Remen says “in fact, we are exactly what is needed; we are the right people just as we are”. She suggests we consider “how would I live if I’m exactly what’s needed to heal the world?”

Much of healing occurs through the telling of stories of our lives, telling us about who we are, what is possible for us. We make sense out of life through our stories.

Life is full of losses and disappointments and the art of living is to make of these something that can nourish others. Our own stories of loss and disappointments when shared with others, remind us we’re not alone with whatever faces us.

There is a power of presence in story-telling, in listening, in shared joys and sorrows.

Remen’s teachings are reshaping the art of healing. Science cannot cure everything she says, but healing can take place by each of us, for each of us.

May Sarton in Gestalt at Sixty, writes

“I worked out anguish in a garden.
Without the flowers,
The shadow of trees on snow, their punctuation,
I might not have survived.
I came here to create a world
As strong, renewable, fertile. As the world of nature all around me.
Learned to clear myself as I have cleared the pasture,
Learned to wait,
Learned that change is always in the making
(Inner and outer) if one can be patient,
Learned to trust myself.”

I returned home with an amazing Gardenia –Gardenia jasminoides ‘Frostproof’.  But wait, there’s more – Mandevilla, Begonia, Podocarpus, Hibiscus. Today I worked out my anguish in my garden, anticipating a bounty of blooms to come.

I’m grateful my maps app took me on such a glorious road trip of images and words, and with a story to tell when I returned home.

Traveling mercies.

There is quite a lot of rumbling outside my window this morning. It’s the sound thunder makes in the mountains as it skips over the hills and valleys where I live.

It was preceded by the weather alarm jarring me awake, telling me to seek cover in the lower level of my home. Right now!

The thundering warning message was preceded by a 2am hour-long vigil at my church, where I “stayed awake with Christ”.

The vigil was preceded by a two hour late night drive from Atlanta where Beth and I had attended the Maundy Thursday service at an Episcopal parish in a neighborhood just minutes from Atlanta’s airport. Her flight from Houston arrived just in time for us to get to church just before the service began. I was soothed by the beauty of the church, the Taize hymns, and the spoken words; and fed as we gathered around the table.

The service was preceded by travel journeys as Beth and I each slogged to the airport through traffic jams and stormy skies.

Now enjoying cappuccinos as the rumbling in the sky continues, it will soon be time to return to my church for the Good Friday service. I expect to find rumblings of another kind as we hear the Gospel and read the Passion.

How many times have I heard, it’s a dry heat when describing high temperatures in Arizona? Seems there is the thought that when one is in a dry climate with high temps, it won’t really feel that hot.

I beg to differ. Hot is hot. It’s been awfully hot here these past few days. Desert hot.

Still, we set out on an urban scenic drive today.

We pulled into a trail area which wandered along a dry wash.

It was very informative. And very hot as well. We didn’t let a little dry heat stop us.

Everything that grew along the wash was identified by sign.

A lovely mix of yellow wildflowers grew along the wash.

Other sights told how punishing this environment can be.

Just down the road we came upon a series of boulders piled high. I’m so curious about their origin. Perhaps a bit of geology reading is in order.

We followed this time in the sun, with a brief stop at a local park. We fully intended to walk through the grounds, seeking out public art. But… that dry heat was just too much.  This is April and I was surprised by the upper 90’s — I’ve been here in August and all I can say is that was an extreme experience.

Leaving this place we headed to The Blind Pig. It was delicious and delightful – and a respite as well.

Today is the twins’ birthday.  I’m so grateful my make-up trip coincided with this time to celebrate their lives. The past few days of living together have been rich with story-telling, memories, and always, laughter.

 

Tomorrow I’ll be on my way back home. Traveling mercies.

Years ago while riding on a ferry between Blacks Harbor, Maine and Grand Manan Island New Brunswick, Canada, a gentleman standing nearby exclaimed, “It’s a large day.” And so it was.

I have used this phrase many times since, when experiencing a particularly stupendous day. Today was such a day here in central Arizona. Forecast to be in the high 90’s today, we left reasonably early for a road trip. Destination the Florence-Kelvin Highway. It was a sixty mile drive to the beginning of the thirty-two mile journey through the Sonoran Desert.

I was delighted to find there was still quite a wonderful display of wildflowers along the entire route.  It won’t be long before the waters from recent rains dry up and the wildflowers fade.

We might have seen five cars along the route.  The road varied from paved to grated to sandy to grated and finally back to pavement.

Thousands of Saguaro Cacti covered the hills. We even spotted a Crested Saguaro.

So many cactus were in bloom.

We have found on previous trips that we three are good traveling companions.  We’re all agreeable with the kind of moseying down the road travel, u-turns and turn backs to take a further look at sights passed, stop and get out to walk off into the wildness.

And in the case of walking off into the wildness, being especially alert to rattlesnakes who are out sunning in this high heat. That got my attention! Fortunately none seen. None heard.

A short detour to view the Asarco Copper mine. Seen from above, the levels of mining were reflected in the various shades of tailings.  Giant trucks looked small.

One hundred eighty miles later, and back into civilization, we decided we deserved a cool gelato.

 

Soon after landing yesterday, we drove straight to La Santisima Gourmet Taco Shop. We were all hungry, and we wanted to check the food out as we had extended an invitation to other family members to meet here after church today. One word. Amazing!

Located in a primarily Hispanic neighborhood, we could have sampled tacos from a dozen shops. Having read about La Santisima earlier this year, it was the obvious choice. We added a serving of jicama-cranberry-mango guacamole to the meal. We also took advantage of the abundant salsa offerings.

Salsa pecan, salsa Chile de Arbol, salsa Cabo, salsa Seven Chiles. And many more.

Good sustenance for the next activity, Electric Desert at the Desert Botanical Gardens. There was enough daylight left to wander the gardens taking photos of birds and blooms.

Just after sunset, the light and sound show began. Seven locations throughout the gardens comprised the light and sound experience.

We wandered throughout the gardens surrounded by light and sound. We even tackled a steep-ish hill where caution was advised for our age group. Nighttime lights below, after a long day of travel.

An early morning walk was pure delight.

Then off to worship God.

St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church is my sister’s parish. My nephew and his wife are members as well. We all gathered for worship in the new sanctuary. I was struck with the beauty of the space, the beauty of the stained glass windows, and the exquisite locally crafted holy water fonts.

Approaching the table with my sister and brother to receive the bread and wine, took me back to long ago Sundays during our growing up years.

The lone, wild bird in lofty flight is still with thee, nor leaves thy sight.

And I am thine! I rest in thee, Great Spirit, come, and rest in me. H. R. McFayden.

The meal continued as we returned to La Santisima to share a table with three generations of cousins.

After two hours of feasting on gourmet tacos and conversation with family, we were all filled with that which will sustain us until we meet next time.

The day culminated with the game. The big game. The NCAA Women’s Basketball Championship. Baylor vs Notre Dame. I love both teams. I admire the coaches so much. I am passionate about the players and the sport. I didn’t really have a favorite this year. I did have hope that it would be an equal match. Right to the last seconds of the game it was hard fought. It was thrilling! We three holed up in the TV room for pre-game, game, and post-game coverage, relishing the experience.

Now as this Sabbath day closes, I’m grateful for the many ways I was nourished. Food. Family. Faith. AND the big game.

Blessings.