Foreward Faith

Yesterday, as we drove over the Fidalgo bridge at the Swinomish reservation, the sun was blinding. It was about 7:45am, and the sky was beautiful as the sun was bursting forth above the horizon. The land below the bridge was blanketed in fog. It looked like an ocean, and tall trees were sticking out of the fog bank that covered the Skagit valley, resembling small islands. We were absolutely mesmerized. Driving over the bridge in blinding morning sun light had me wondering how every one else was still driving like it was nothing, passing me and zooming by. I was clenching my wheel as we curved over the bridge in the deafening light, and I was cursing the fact that I forgot my sunglasses once again. As we descended into the sea of fog, all of a sudden there were about a thousand ducks flying around to our right. Still focused on the road, Steve identified the birds for me. They must have been migrating and passing through. It all was such a sight to behold. Such a blessing.

Early mornings seem to be full of blessings such as this. Riding on the ferry as dawn breaks, watching the silhouette of Mt. Baker in the distance, noticing the color changes in the sky, seeing the regulars playing cribbage or taking a nap on the early boat, busy early morning baristas, tea in the dark on my porch… I suppose I am becoming a morning person. Today it is Saturday, and I was up at 5:30am, an hour and a half after my alarm goes off Monday through Friday. I joked with Steve that I had slept in. Steve is usually up at 5:00am, even before we started his cancer treatment, so it is not a surprise to be greeted by him this early. Early mornings seem to be a time to reflect. We like ample time in the morning to get settled into the day. We give ourselves almost two hours to have multiple cups of coffee or chai, take care of our routines, get dressed slowly and comfortably, pack our bags, clean out the car, make our travel beverages, and to wake up. I have not had a lot of trouble waking up recently, as I have adapted to this early morning phenomena. I feel somewhat alert and normal. It took me a few days to get there, and I do it without caffeine, but I am now adjusted and am enjoying the early morning reality very much.

It is hard to think about losing Steve to cancer or the fact that I may have cancer as well someday, but we have remained hopeful and positive. The recent scans of his lung show quite a lot of change after 13 radiation treatments. The chemotherapy also preps Steve’s tumor to be more responsive to radiation. There was significant change, and supposedly there is often increased change after treatments are over. It is kind of wild to go through this and accept all of this, but chemo and radiation have both come a long way in advances in recent years. Dealing with the nurses and doctors has been so positive, that it is easier to trust. Steve’s birthday is today, and yesterday the radiation team gave him a balloon and a bag full of treats. Both of the oncologists we deal with have been very kind and friendly, as well as the nurses and technicians. We feel we are in good hands.

And I have faith. The beauty that we encounter every morning on the ferry ride and our drive, only accentuates the gratitude that I feel. Adversity begets strength and faith, and calamity gives way to serenity. I miss a lot about normal life, but I am in this whole thing full hog, and it has proven to be pleasurable more often than not. Gratitude, patience, resilience, hope, faith, and putting one foot in front of another, have gotten us this far. It is hard to believe, but we are doing fine. I am evolving, changing and growing with all of it. We move forward together in Faith and hope for the best.