The Truest Things...

There is an ancient belief that the Mute Swan is completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, and then it sings one achingly beautiful song… The Swan Song.

Now, this is not a true belief, although it has made for captivating stories. Aesop, Shakespeare, Tennyson each found the myth to be story-worthy. Even as Socrates was being put to death, referenced the legend of the swan’s song. In actuality, the Mute Swan hisses and honks, it just does not call or bugle like other swans.

This may be my swan song. I am flying out on Monday, January 3rd, for the west coast. I will be heading to Ft. Lewis, Washington and Coronado, California. For those of you who have known me a long time, you will recollect that I have never been anywhere by myself. Even before the diagnosis, Big Daddy has made sure that I do not travel alone. In fact, for those of you who are most familiar with me, you know that I am not even allowed downtown past the Herald-Misleader building. (That is where we begin one-way streets and I am easily lost with a homing device embedded that draws me like a magnet to the more “seedier” parts of any town.) Actually, I have become quite turned around in my own neighborhood, so it is not without tremendous concern that my family is watching me pack.

Of course, we lived in Europe for three years and I did manage to make it back from there, having never taken a German, French, or Austrian speaking lesson in my life prior to our arrival. Of course, I had escorts there and we walked most places outside of weekend getaways that Big Daddy chauffeured. There was the time in Paris, France, when I was so convinced that total-strangers-but-older-than-us-therefore-they-must-be-wiser-than-us-Americans were about to board to the correct train heading back to our hotel in the heart of the city. I wanted to follow those people. I wanted to get on the same train as they did because surely to goodness, they knew what they were doing seeing as how they were at least in their mid-thirties! Big Daddy looked me in the eye and said, “Follow them if you want to, but I am telling you they are getting on the wrong train”. It was a physical feat to NOT board that train with those total strangers and to stay with Big Daddy and trust him.

We waited and then boarded the train that Big Daddy said would take us back to our hotel. As we stepped off the platform and could see the area familiar to us, to me, I knew Big Daddy had been right. Why on earth would I have thought it smarter to follow perfect strangers, even if much older ones, rather than believe he knew what he was doing. As it turns out, that was a life-changing moment for me. I never doubted Big Daddy’s sense of direction after that. I knew that he had traveled the world and was far more capable of finding his way home than I ever could be. Life lesson. Lesson learned.

I guess that instance changed something in Big Daddy’s head, too. “She will get lost in paper bag with a blinking exit sign and bread crumbs to follow.” Pretty accurate, I guess. I have been turned around in some of the biggest AND smallest cities AND towns on two continents. Honestly, it IS a wonder I make it home as often as I do, which brings me to commentary for my upcoming trip…alone.

I have never flown alone. I have never been to the west coast. I have never stayed in a hotel by myself. I have never even driven more than 30 minutes by myself, that I can recall. I always have Big Daddy or the kids with me. I remember the panic on Big Daddy’s face when I was called back for a third interview in Cincinnati knowing if I took the position, I would have to drive over an hour every day, each way, in and out of a rather large city with plenty of one-way streets and that embedded “hood magnet” device somewhere in my brain. He even entertained the idea of us renting an apartment so that I would not have to travel back and forth so much. (He also thinks I am the worst driver in the history of mankind…)

In downtown Louisville, Big Daddy said to me, “Stop looking like a tourist” to which I replied, “But I AM a tourist”. Of course, he was trying to make us appear as non-targets while I was looking straight up at the architectural wonders of the buildings sizing up photo opportunities. Basically all I was missing was a flashing neon sign that said “Easy Prey. Mug Me.”

He and I really do live in different worlds…

So, here I am, about to board a 757 bound for the great states of Washington and California and I am relatively sure that the plane will fall out of the sky before I ever see the Pacific Ocean. Why? I don’t know. Am I genuinely afraid that something will happen and I won’t return home? I don’t know. Is the excitement of it all outweighing the fear of gravity itself figuring out that planes can’t fly getting to me? I don’t know.

I have a list of our “life documents” ready for Big Daddy in case something does happen. It has our account numbers for life insurance policies, 401K information, and how much my company will automatically pay for my demise while on company business. Should be enough for a very nice funeral, by the way. Speaking of my funeral, I have already written up the funeral program. I have listed my Honorary Pallbearers (I want to be cremated which should work out fine if I am in a plane crash) and the songs I would like to have played. I did want to have my photo montage ready to go so that Big Daddy and the kids wouldn’t have to mess with it, but I haven’t managed to do that as of today. I don’t want food at my funeral. I think that’s weird. I don’t want a bunch of crying and carrying on because if you know me at all, you know I would much rather prefer you laugh. That is why I tried so hard to be funny…to hear your laughter.

Anyway, I do have a few things that went undone and I don’t foresee that changing before I board my Delta flight to the west. I am assuming I will become published after my death because that is usually the way it goes and just so you know, that really sucks. I have some things on a jump drive that I will leave for my family to peruse at their discretion. A portrait of me, so to speak… Childhood memories, a list of my favorite things, songs, stories, you know, just in case they ever forget later on and want to remember. I have given instructions to two people on where I hid the gold. Still, so many things left unfinished… I feel quite incomplete.

I don’t really have any unfinished business with anyone. I believe I have apologized to those I have wronged. I cleaned out all my clothes that I held on to because of denial of my bilateral mastectomy and the ability to wear such clothes again. I gave away my sexy shoes along with my desire to dress up in high heels ever again. Several pair had never even been worn. What does THAT say?? Hahaha It actually says I am 5’11” and don’t need to wear heels.

As for our children, our son is employed and learning how to manage his own finances, so I consider that a huge plus as he nears his time to leave home and embark on his college career. Precious Son remains committed to become a youth minister in the Christian church as this has long since been his passion. Listening to my son pray makes my heart swell and tears fall. Our daughter has become an amazing young woman with a heart for missions and a sense of humor that leaves me laughing until my sides hurt. On Christmas, she showed me the one lesson I had wanted her to learn, she finally had.

It occurred to me that even though our children never had the honor and privilege to know my parents in flesh, they know them in spirit. Their Grandfather Kyle, was a devoted disciple of the Lord and minister within the Christian church, and our son follows in his footsteps. Their Grandmother Kyle, a selfless volunteer who showed Christ to those less fortunate, those who were sick and weak, and to those who knew Him not…and our daughter seeks to emulate her kind and generous benevolence. My parents were living examples of humility, graciousness, and honor.

My parents live on…

Will I?

Is this my compulsion? To live on? Is this urgency I feel to get my things in order more about the plane falling out of the sky or the cancer returning?

I have my first post-chemo scans in January. I asked my company if I could make this trip the first week of January for a couple of reasons.

1. If I die in a plane crash, I won’t have to be stuck with needles for the scans with contrast as my tests begin the second week of January.

2. If the scans show the cancer is back, I will have had a worry-free trip before finding out.

Maybe they are silly reasons, but they are mine. I have tried to explain how much I LOATHE needles and if I can avoid having them stuck into me, I will. Now, you may think it a tad far-fetched to plan a multi-destination trip in relation to my needle-necessary appointments, and it may very well be, however, how would I feel free-falling through the sky to my death while still sporting black and blue marks from the needle sticks that weren’t necessary anyway because I didn’t die of cancer but instead, a plane crash? Exactly. Think of it this way…those people on the Titanic who didn’t eat dessert? Yep. A stupid, stupid waste. At least this way, if one of the planes crash, I can chuckle to myself on the way down.

The biggest, most thought-consuming things I wish I had done before I fly out on Monday…

1. Organize our photos. I had said I would do this while off from work during chemo, however, chemo had other plans for my time.

2. Create my funeral montage. Now, it will be up to my family to choose photos that represented my life as opposed to my choosing photos in which I look thin.

3. Have my writings published, of course. There are more than just this blog. I believe some of my best work has yet to be seen. Actually, aren’t the writings of an author their way of glomming on to eternity?

Of course, there are always the questions looming in my mind about if I was a solid Christian, a better-than-the bestest mom, a loving and devoted wife, a generous friend, etc. As I grew older, I realized how important it is to honor my word and my promises. I learned through God’s grace not be judgmental despite being beyond excellent at it. I learned that people are imperfect and this includes me. I discovered that the people with all the answers are the ones with the wrong questions. Perhaps most hurtful of all was learning that an awful lot of Christians preach love but do not extend it. I know. I used to be one of them. Thank You, God, for never giving up on me…even when I gave up on myself.

So, here I am, writing “just in case”, wishing I could have some poignant quote to sign off with. Some words that would live on through the ages that others would want to quote. My favorite quotes are from Jack Handey. That, alone, makes me laugh. Yes, my words in quotation marks, followed by that little, squiggly line and then my name…

“Lower the bar.” ~Pandora Spocks

“Yes, even on New Circle, I AM the pace car!” ~Pandora Spocks

“There is a level of stupidity here that surpasses all understanding.” ~Pandora Spocks

“If I wanted you to hear me, I wouldn’t have whispered.” ~Pandora Spocks

“There is something to be said for slipping some people a mickey.” ~Pandora Spocks

“The greatest inventions ever include electricity, indoor plumbing, and Hershey bars.” ~Pandora Spocks

“Love. Forgive. Extend mercy and grace. Show Christ.” ~Dawn Kyle Stiltner