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One year ago

I write this on the one year anniversary  of my heart surgery,

filled with gratitude for my healthy, beating heart

and my body,       renewed.

 

On the treadmill this week I noticed that the stepping is still becoming easier as is  increasing my pace.  I am falling more in love, in awe,

more connected to this body that is still gaining strength and has carried me through much,

and is ready now for new endeavors and adventures.

 

This week, too, my wonderful hairdresser told me at an appointment that my ‘hair is back‘ and I felt like cheering. The effects of the anaesthetic ravaged it for many months, leaving it dry and frizzy, broken and brittle.

Suddenly, it is soft and shiny again. A small thing but not.

 

And I am more committed then ever to honouring this body, this life’s vehicle that I have been gifted. Fresh, wholesome, gorgeous real food hold all of the appeal.

And I will watch, too, how my emotions affect how I treat this body, and how they live inside me-

 

Earlier this week, I had a frenetic and crazed day where I was hardly present for a minute, consumed by all of the things I had to do,

and also feeling fearful and overwhelmed by what actually may be a new and beautiful opportunity in my life.

At the end of that day, after picking up Olivia one more time from a lesson, I jumped out of my SUV and quickly slammed the door shut before my hand was out,

crushing my thumb.

 

As I yelled in pain and ordered  my kids to go grab a towel to stop the dramatic spurting of blood from underneath my nail,

I  felt the literal power of this wake-up call to

S  L  O  W    D  O  W  N,

 

trust,

 

breathe,

 

and invite into my life a sense of willingness to open myself up to the future rather than grip tightly to a  desperate need to master, control, and know.

 

I also read this week about the idea of building up core strength,

not in order to have a flat stomach,

but to make yourself stronger from the inside out,

a building up of strength and power  from within –  how I completely love that concept.

 

It is spring and many of us are feeling the invigorating and beautiful seasonal shift this week towards warmth and sunshine,       possibility.

 

All feels new.

 

It is the loveliest of times to not only take stock of our gifts, but commit to honouring them with our continued gentle and fierce care.

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This is your body, your greatest gift, pregnant with wisdom you do not hear, grief you thought was forgotten, and joy you have never known. – Marion Woodman

 

 

 

 

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On Road Trips, Detours, and Cardboard Boxes

Road Trips

One of my best childhood memories was packing up our vehicle and trailer and heading out on a two week summer vacation. My family camped a lot back then, and I loved the excitement and sense of adventure around leaving on a holiday and then finding and setting up in a new campsite.

Now that I am an adult, of course, planning and preparing for trips feels a lot more complicated then it did back then. Our vacations often feel as if they are squished into busy times when it feels hard to get away and air travel is often stressful.

The idea of an old-fashioned summer road trip felt like the perfect antidote to a difficult year.

So, the day after school let out we got up early and headed out –

because it doesn’t feel like a proper road trip unless you leave at the dawning of the day, still a little sleepy and blurry, go-cup firmly in hand and vehicle packed tight.

Dan and I both fondly remembered stopping for breakfast mid-morning, too, as part of the perfect family road trip formula. It needed to be a place that would serve hearty breakfast fare such as pancakes, sausages, eggs, and strong black tea preferably on a deck in the sunshine.

We found such a place, and so our road trip delightfully and properly was on its way.

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best ever apple pancakes

It was a week of swimming, playing, and exploring a new place.

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Pure restoration and rejuvenation without any agenda or expectations.

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Perfectly imperfect. There were a few days where we got too much sun, our accommodations were not quite as we expected, we all surely had our cranky spells, and not every experience we had was great.

but.

it was lovely.

There was the most soothing cool breeze every night through our bedroom, we were beautifully located, and the water was spectacular. I swam in a lake for the first time in years and it was utterly exhilarating. How good it feels to start to move and stretch my body again after surgery. We also had a few extraordinary meals ~chocolate peanut butter pie that was to die for, handmade tacos and enchiladas, and appetizers one hot and still night on a sweet little patio surrounded by trees, a guitar player gently strumming away in the background.

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These are the moments I never forget.

Detours

We needed to come home a different way than we had come, as we were going to be spending a night with our family in Montana at their condo.

Using google maps, Dan found us the shortest route possible. We set off a little later than expected and headed the way that Dan had chosen. The GPS system that we are just learning to use on our new vehicle would not accept Dan’s route as legitimate and several times tried to re-route us. Each time, Dan determinedly got us back on his google trail with a few choice words for Ford and her uncooperative mapping system.

So we carried on, me feeling the doubt creeping in but deciding to be supportive.

The roads seemed to become a little less traveled as we carried on and soon we found ourselves off the main highways. Dan insisted that this way was so much better, so much more picturesque, so much faster. The architect in Dan is always looking for the more scenic path, whether we are on our way to the corner store or traveling across a country. I will add, though, with my husband’s permission, that the architect in Dan is also particular and finds dust and dirt offensive.

Google in all her wisdom soon directed us onto a gravel road. We discussed turning back but we were already going to arrive much later than we had promised and we had already backtracked a few times. On the map, it didn’t seem as if the road would go for that long (little did we know that we would only be driving 20 km/hr for well over an hour). So on we kept going and I was soon joking that the road was really more of a winding hiking path. We drove through two little streams, passed only one other vehicle- a family in their ATV who encouraged us on, acquired mud and dirt in every single crevice and cranny of our shiny new vehicle and felt as if we were in the very deepest of Montana’s backwoods. They will never find us here, I though to myself several times.

But.  As we drove on, I laughed and laughed at our self-imposed predicament, until the tears rolled down my cheeks. We all did.

And

we also came upon the most gorgeous mountain lake, the kind that makes you take a deep breath and give sacred thanks for just about everything,

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the kind of thanks that offers the knowledge that there never really are any mistakes in this life, only adventures and detours,

it’s really just one big road trip.

Cardboard Boxes

During the last week of school we had two dining room chairs delivered. They arrived packaged up in GIANT cardboard boxes.

The minute Olivia saw these boxes, she was almost vibrating ~ and excitedly asked us if she could keep them.

Do kids ever get too old for big boxes?

Dan and I weren’t thrilled about keeping all of this cardboard in our living room but who are we to stifle creative play?

Within minutes of getting home from school on the last day, both kids went to town on these boxes, completely absorbed for hours.

I couldn’t believe it.

Olivia had just completed her first set of finals for which she had studied a ridiculous amount of time. Her homework load has been enormous this year. She was absolutely exhausted. I had fully expected her to zonk out on the couch for an extended sitcom-watching marathon the minute she was done, but instead here she was on this hyper-focused mission cutting apart and redecorating a box, and so was her brother who on most days would rather have been playing MineCraft.

Who says kids don’t know how to play any more

or that they can’t think outside the box?

The answer, maybe, is to just give them a box.

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Notice the cardboard chair behind George’s box, made by Dan. Like father like son.

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Olivia’s focus was more on the interior.

Happy Summer friends! May you all find your own cardboard box.

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My Heart Surgery & Recovery & 10 beautiful things that got me through ~

It has now been a while since my open heart surgery, and it feels as if the time has  come to talk about it. Olivia said to me the other day, ‘Mom, do you get tired of answering people when they ask you how you are doing?’ My answer was ‘no’~

It was a significant thing to go through and it touches me that so many people were and are still so genuinely concerned.

Heart surgery is not uncommon. Most of us can name people we know who have gone through some sort of procedure to address a heart condition.

I am now connected to these people.

No one, however, can really prepare you for the invasiveness of heart surgery, nor for the accompanying feelings of overwhelming vulnerability that accompany allowing your heart to be stopped, worked on,
and no one really likes to talks about that crippling underlying fear

that things could go wrong.

For the first several weeks after surgery it was all I could do just to find ways to process all of my feelings and accept the complex experience I had been through and begin to heal.

How grateful am I now though?

My heart is fixed thanks to the truly spectacular wonders that modern medicine and technology have gifted us. I feel energy and vitality building in me that I have not felt for years, perhaps even never felt.

Nor is it possible for me to feel and see the world in the same way after having had major surgery. Everything looks just a little different,

a little brighter, a little simpler, even lovelier than before.

There were, of course, magical moments that will never leave me – shining moments that really got me through and helped me feel and know for sure that everything would be ok –

Here are my top 10…

1) All the big love that came to me before surgery. Flowers, messages, prayers, cards, hugs….Friends and acquaintances offering up love and support and letting me know that they were thinking of me. Right up until I went to sleep the night before surgery, I was still receiving new messages and feeling virtually held up by everyone.

2) Great parking spots the day before surgery and the morning of, as trivial as that may sound. Others had complained to us about the mess of trying to find parking at the Foothills, but for us it was literally a snap. It seemed as though just as we would pull up right in front of the hospital, someone else would pull out with smiles and waves. It was absolutely seamless and helped me trust that in even in the most mundane of ways we were being looked after.

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3) Having my kids with me – It felt really important  that all three of my kids were nearby. I needed to feel them close, I needed them to be a part of all of it and understand what was happening rather than imagine the worst. I wanted them to see the preciousness of life that is more deeply understood when we come into close contact with trauma, sickness, recovery, and healing. My mother taught me to not shy away from these facts of life and I felt a responsibility to extend that important teaching to my own children. And so the kids were there at the hospital before, during, and after surgery…in the waiting room for hours and hours with their cousins while I was in surgery, on the hospital grounds running and playing under their Auntie’s supervision, on hunts for ice cream or treats with Glenna, and holding my hands during the days after as I started taking my little laps around the halls. Alex carefully watched over my vitals and supervised visits and messages from friends. George played numerous games of Battleship with Glenna between hesitant visits to my room when he would offer me quick kisses, and Olivia stayed close until everyone else except Dan had gone back home to Lethbridge. She helped me dress, checked my incisions, waited on me, meticulously mothered me.

4) An unexpected angel of reassurance -It’s difficult to describe the fear that I felt as my body was being prepared for surgery at 6am on the morning of April 8. Even the two Ativan that they gave me weren’t quite enough to completely calm me. However, after I was wheeled into the surgical suite on the stretcher, something happened that I will never forget….A doctor came up to me, whom I had never met, and told me he would be assisting in my operation.

He then told me that it was going to be great, and that if he was having open-heart surgery, this is precisely the team he would choose. We chatted for a bit longer, and then he left to carry on with his preparations. It is difficult to describe the power of that interaction, but the comfort that he gave to me extends even into this day.

5) Nurses – My grandmother had a distinguished and respected career as head nurse of surgery. Her and I were very close, and it was her that I thought of most often as I prepared for surgery. I imagined her watching over all of the medical details, and sending energies of competency, perfectionism, and love. Little did I think, though, about this deep professional care extending into the days afterwards, but it did,

as it manifested in the nurses who looked after me.

These women and men talked to me about what I was experiencing, watched my recovery with genuine concern, answered my questions, helped me move, sit, walk, bathe, covered me in warm blanket after warm blanket,

and showed me how to receive and be completely taken care of when I had no other choice.

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Margaret Filchak

6) Other patients – Cardiac patients are encouraged to get moving as soon as possible. It is very important to start working the heart again. So the halls circling around the cardiac rooms are continuously peppered by people in their hospital gowns shuffling slowly along, often with family members walking along beside them. There are chairs dispersed for rests and visits, and it can feel a little like a turtle marathon with much encouragement and smiles coming from other patients and their families.

‘Oh you are moving well, good for you!’

‘And what did you have done – bypass or valve work?’

‘How many days are you at now?’ (everyone remembers their surgery date like it’s their birthday)

It is a such beautiful and inspiring thing to witness,

how quickly and naturally communities form wherever we are. It seems to me that, generally, we are all out  to support one another even when we are struggling and in pain ourselves. It is by far one of the most beautiful thing about human nature, this urge to form connections whatever our circumstances.

7) My beautiful chair– A few days before surgery Alex and Ry decided that my favorite chair should be moved from the living room to our back window. This is the great big, pillowy, floral print chair that Dan bought me for our first Christmas together. As soon as I saw my beloved chair tucked into the corner of our sunroom. I actually felt a little excited about my recovery as I imagined myself tucked deep inside of its cozy warmth, cup of tea and a pile of books by my side. Dan put a little antique wood table that had belonged to my grandmother at the chair’s side, and Olivia decorated the table with a little cup of flowers.

This was where I sat for a month,

receiving visitors, coordinating, watching Netflix, reading, drinking copious cups of tea, and watching Spring unfold.

7) Food – Before surgery, when people would ask me if there was anything they could do  I would say, ‘Well, yes, you could bring us food.’ I knew for sure this was the one area where we would struggle. As you all know, it takes a tremendous amount of time and energy to shop for and feed a family and I am all about nourishing and healthy food, especially during times of stress and healing.  Let me just say that we were very well fed, and I am convinced that food is always one of the very best ways to help. Thank you, thank you, and thank you to everyone who helped in this way.

9) Walks in the sunshine– As soon as I got home from Calgary my little walks around the cardiac unit transformed into walks up and down our street, on the arms of my husband. We walked and walked and walked, many times a day, willing my heart to gradually strengthen and heal. The weather during those first few days and weeks was absolutely perfect, warm, and regenerative. Often, we were stopped by neighbours offering up hugs and words of encouragement and I felt as deeply loved and cheered on by our friends as I did by my surroundings; by our street, by the houses, the trees, the sunshine, by all of it.

10) A shift from fear and waiting towards trusting and being. Even though I had great faith in my brilliant and well-respected surgeon, and deep hope for my future, open-heart surgery was  an event I had been fearing for a long time.

We all have major, transformative events in our lives that shake us up; deaths of loved ones, health issues that catch us by surprise, ends of relationships, and so on. These sorts of events always have the power to drive us deeper into fear and or resentment, hold us hostage, make us distrustful of life, paralyze us –

or

They can make us more determined to find the light, the adventure, the play, the stillness, the ways to love, the reasons to celebrate, and the courage to take those brave leaps towards our dreams.

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Grandma Carol’s Garden 2015; Garden theme ‘Full Hearts’

Once again I am restored and choose happiness.

Thank you, dear heart.