It’s 4 a.m. I can almost smell the cup of Earl Grey waiting to be brewed as part of my morning ritual. “Is it too early to get up?” I ask myself before the next glance at the clock reads 5:37 a.m.
That’s a reasonable time to get out of bed and enjoy quiet time before the day begins. I’m treating myself to a second cup of tea and Walter the cat decides to join me. I stop what I’m doing and enjoy the purring.
Pushing the to-do list out of my head, I try to concentrate on breathing. There’s pain in my shoulder, and all my bones ache.
Is it the cold? I guess it could be stress. I’m trying.
Judging from the honks above my head, I know a large mob of Canada Geese are circling from the corn stubble in the field to the river. Winter has set in within a few days. For the first time in all my years of loving North Dakota winter, I think maybe it’s time to cave and spend some time in warmer climes.
But what would the holidays be life without snow?
It’s Thanksgiving week. My son and his wife have established a Thanksgiving tradition at their home, a house full of family. It’s noisy and crowded and the food is most excellent. My son has become handy at smoking turkey. I’m going to miss that this year.
If you are a regular reader of these posts, you may have already detected the philosophical nature of the last couple of week’s posts, and know what it means.
A cancer diagnosis in itself causes one to focus on spirituality, relationships, past regrets and hope in the future. But, an impending MRI on your brain causes a volcano of feelings to erupt from the pit of your stomach.
Try as I may, it’s not easy to stay on any task for too long before the inevitable “What will they find” question runs like a crawl under the nightly newscast inside my head.
We are leaving early Tuesday morning for Rochester, Minn., for an early MRI appointment on Wednesday.
The good news is that my nephew and his wife live in Rochester and have invited us to spend Thanksgiving with them. My brother from Jamestown will arrive on Wednesday. We will be going out for supper to hopefully celebrate the test results. Thursday, enjoying Thanksgiving dinner before traveling home to spend a little time and pizza with the rest of my family on Saturday.
It does not matter what the doctor says, good news or bad, the stress should be gone. Knowing what happens in the next few months will come as a welcome relief to the thoughts in my head about the unknown manifesting in physical pain.
My friend and spiritual cheerleader, Shelley, reminded me of this verse that I repeat verbatim almost daily, “WE KNOW all things work for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose.”
I feel that God has given me a new purpose in life and I am currently trying to learn how to share it with anyone interested. It’s exciting to see my plan coming together, however, saying those things out loud brings a bit of terror to my heart as I have made a commitment, or two, without knowing how I will be able to deliver.
While I know we are ALL praying for the best possible news, we will deal with whatever comes next. I’m counting on your support.
And, for you, my friends, I pray Thanksgiving brings your families together for food, fun and maybe football. Until next week — God Bless.
INDYchildrendotme 
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