More Lessons in Serendipity

My sister called . . . and we just chatted. 

Sweet, serendipitous peals of laughter peppered our discourse as we flitted from subject to subject with abandon. 

A trip to Hawaii? 

Perhaps. 

A trip to The Biltmore in the Fall? 

Absolutely! 

Christmas together here at Wisteria Cottage? 

OH YES!  AMEN!!!

We talked of this and that and nothing in particular as our hearts savored the simple joy of just chatting.  Serendipity indeed.   

* * *

For over a month now my sister has been in the throes of a medical journey to discover the cause of an abrupt swelling on her leg.  Our natural flow of cell phone calls back and forth each week became littered with tears and fears and prayers as we tried to avoid talking about pending surgery and post-op recovery, of possible “C” word and chemo, of  . . .

of . . . of . . . of . . .

Many times the phone failed to ring, yet an email appeared – it was just too hard to say it.

“We’ll talk soon,” closed the short note.

And we did . . .

. . . but not about IT. 

What was the point? 

We waited.

We prayed.

I tried not to worry (and failed miserably, but kept trying – practice makes perfect for a looong month of practicing.  For me, at least.)

* * *

I jotted notes like:

Buy wicker bed tray and bud vase

Pack “X” and “Y” cookbooks

Order thus-and-so supplements to be delivered to her house

* * *

Tears flowed at each conversation's signing off, lacing the “I Love You” strings ever tighter despite the distance between Grass Valley, CA and Charlotte, NC. 

I tucked away some “airline money,” just in case, but felt a tug at my heartstrings over Christmas and sent it all away for poor families to buy farm animals.  Was I secretly hoping there would be no need?  My prayers and journals hold no clue to such hope, as I poured forth my fears at the feet of my Lord. 

“Whatever is true” I wrote firmly.  “Now stick to the truth – to what you KNOW and not what you imagine or fear.”

“Today I know of no cause to worry, so worry I shall not,” I forcibly told myself in print and whispers.

And then I would set off to wash and weed and pray and release again the burdens my mind sprouts with such ease. 

A writer’s imagination is not gift at times like these;

but a Savior’s soothing words provide perfect panacea.

Come to Me, 

all who are weary and heavy-laden, 

and I will give you rest.

Matthew 11:28

And which of you by worrying 

can add a single hour to [her sister’s] life's span?  

If then you cannot do even a very little thing, 

why do you worry about other matters?

Luke 12:24,25

* * *   

  


Time dragged its heels.  A cold wave took our town by storm.  Darkness filled the days with a frozen hue.  I clawed for serendipity and came up empty, for it cannot be summoned but only discovered.

I walked.  I wrote.  I prayed.  I cried.  I walked some more. 

In the gardens I found budding daffodils. 

In the coop the chickens broke their laying stay and gifted us with four eggs.

A forgotten CD of Hawaiian music + nature sounds transported a weary one to entertain thoughts of gentle beaches and washing waves in the quiet of an evening.

An email from a dear friend encouraged me to remember that waves may come unaware and sweep us off our feet if we are not careful.  A wave of sorrow had swept me up and tumbled me over and over . . . but I came up standing (though sputtering) and breathed deeply the serendipitous sweetness of knowing I can face whatever today brings my way – even if it should entail more loss on this side of Heaven’s gate – for I am not alone.

And he said unto me, 

My grace is sufficient for thee: 

for my strength is made perfect in weakness. 

Most gladly therefore 

will I rather glory in my infirmities, 

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

I accepted the gifts of today and stopped fearing tomorrow.  I felt at peace.  I found that tiny wink of serendipity that had been eluding me,


and it was enough.

* * * 

And then the exuberant email came through:

NO SURGERY!  NO CANCER!   

No need for an unplanned trip out to oversee recovery and further treatment.

The culprit:  An inflamed lymph node cluster, most likely from an infected scratch. 

The solution:  Antibiotics and rest.  Nothing more.

* * *

I wept with relief.

She fumed that it had taken a month and several tiers of doctors before somebody thought to give her a simple antibiotic for the infection.

[My sis and I think on different waves.  Complementary, I’d say.]

* * *

 So now that I need not be packed and ready to jump upon a plane on a moment’s notice, we have cooked up a batch of “togetherness” plans for two more FUN visits this year, always holding out the hopes for three or four or . . . .

whatever serendipitous amount the future holds.

* * *

 

Is it only January 17^th?  

Why does it feel like this year is much older?

* * *

Methinks it is shaping up to be a very interesting year.

Ahem . . . more serendipity, please, LORD.  

 Lots more! 

; )

 * * *

[And she leaves to rake leaves, 

hoping to find more pretty bulbs in bloom

this sunny, sunny day in January.]

Suppose . . .

. . . it were just a cosmic chance for two girls to be set side-by-side for a summer's spate -- a thread of common language and little else to hold them. It could have been by chance, but as the season unfolded and enfolded them into friendship and sisterhood that crossed oceans, endured silence, flourished in letters, and flowed vividly through the years the chance of chances melted into a design of love. A name drawn by lottery concealed seeds designed for the heart.


Just last week the rainy skies of fall (which had literally thundered in!) broke wide into smiles of summertime's rich sunshine that nearly matched the smile I wore as I greeted my Norwegian sister Mimmi, her daughter Siv, and my precious "Mamma."




An earlier email informing of flight info also pleaded for a bit of warm sun, as Norway had been bypassed by summer this year. This simple request prompted prayers on my part for clear skies of the former season while my dear "sister" and family visited. Did chance swing by again? I never bothered to wonder as we dined out of doors on artichokes and apple pie, discussing Nordic summerhouses and fjords, clothed in gauzy skirts and sleeveless tops -- surely my prayers had been heard by a designer rather than a will o' the wisp wind.




Grass Valley, Roseville, Lake Tahoe, and San Francisco -- it mattered not where we traveled -- the sun joined us every day. Yet, on the day of departure the clouds gathered above and sweaters rescued chilly arms. The day after they left I awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops and a quiet coffeepot. No sun in the sky, no strong coffee calling out, "Come and play!"

I contented myself with warm memories as I sipped tea and wondered whether our plans for a midsommer visit to Norge next summer will come to fruition . . . and after that a meeting up in Southern California, then Florida, Italy . . .

I finished up my tea and set about praying -- leaving nothing to chance. : D

_____________

p.s.

Past posts about my Norwegian Connection can be found here and here.

Then and Now

A short time ago I posted about my first trip to Norway as a foreign exchange student. Gary found these delightful pics in his archives of Mimmi and me. I thought you might enjoy seeing how "little" has changed between two "sisters" over the years.

Mimmi & Me in Summer 1979

Mimmi & Me Summer 2006

She's Gone . . .

How could six days fly by so quickly?

How could we eat so much, laugh so often, sleep so little, and still yearn for more, More, MORE!!!

Today I saw a plaque in a catalog that read:

Blessed are Women whose hearts and souls are
Joined together by laughter and tears
For they shall be known as
Sisters

That would surely make Cindy and me sisters of the sort deeper even than the blood we share. The older we get the closer we become.

[How come we never knew we were such terrific friends when we had to share a bed and she would irritate me so by putting her feet all over the walls prompting me to scare her with a cryptic warning about the wall witch that came and took naughty children?] : D

This past week we found the time to shop the farmer’s market, wander through the gardens, soak in the spa, play rounds and rounds of Phase 10 and Skip-Bo, and even find time to watch Schoolhouse Rock with those who weren’t privy to the premier episodes (like we were) of the catchy tunes and fun facts of grammar, history, and all the rest.

(Seriously, this is the ONLY pic taken of us the entire time of Cindy’s visit!! Scandal! I am a shameful blogger indeed! I am in the pink slippers, Cindy is wearing yellow, Elizabeth is reading on the settee, Lydia is bundled in the Queen Anne recliner, and Rachel rests next to me.)

We filled our days with long teatime chats, strolls in the garden, time in the kitchen preparing meals (though we did enjoy a few away in my favorite eateries about town), after which we played games, watched silly films (like Woody Allen’s Sleeper – a fave from way back when . . . was it always so silly?) and epic movies (like Gone With the Wind). Can you believe Cindy had NEVER seen it before? (Where was she when I watched it a GAZILLION times?)

We snacked on yummy cheeses and dark rich chocolate. We baked bread and fruit crisps. We dined inside and out. And we capped off the visit with a Southern Feast featuring Hoppin’ John, Dirty Rice, and the MOST DIVINE biscuits named “Touch of Grace” biscuits – all recipes found in my The South: A Beautiful Cookbook. Later I will share the biscuit recipe, even though I rarely recommend something with WHITE FLOUR and CAKE FLOUR and HEAVY CREAM in addition to buttermilk. Those biscuits were decadent and DELICIOUS! (Do I have pictures? You ask sweetly. Nope . . . I really fell down on the job, didn’t I?)

Tonight, as I stood under the arbor laden with Confederate Jasmine and Eden roses,


I inhaled the scent of pure bliss and thanked the Lord for such a sweet, sweet visit with my l’il sis. All the pruning and cultivating of our relationship over the years has produced a harvest of friendship and sisterhood and deep, deep love despite a roller-coaster life that has dealt us many blows and whiplashes. Of late my sister mourns the recent loss of her mother-in-law, along with two kitties whom she loved so much. At times we dropped tears on each other’s shoulders – that’s what friends are for . . . and my sister is my oldest and dearest friend in the world.

So . . . in the coming days I will surely entertain you with tales of our silliness and sweetness shared over this past visit. But for now I must sign off and finish tackling the chores and duties that I willfully and most joyfully neglected during Cindy’s visit.

This evening as I deadheaded the roses in the coming twilight I came across that brilliant “Dream Come True” rose that looked like this just a day or two ago:

Tonight she looked like this:



And as I clipped away the spent bloom I found this:

The promise of a new blossom.

I have no way of knowing whether this bud will flush into as rare a beauty as the former beauty atop this bush, but I have the joy of looking forward to finding out.

Likewise, as I thought back over the richness of my visit with Cindy and the sadness as we parted at the airport, I smiled in anticipation of our next meeting . . . which we just happened to finalize on her last day here. Prior to boarding that big ol’ plane headed back to North Carolina, she booked our airline/hotel/minivan/hopperpasses for our trip to Disney World in November! I must admit that made the goodbye hug a bit easier . . . but just a wee bit.

Rachel awoke this morning and came into my room where I sat reading.

“It sure is quiet around here,” she remarked glumly.

I agreed.

When Time Flies . . . or Doesn't

Found this in my email box this morning:

Deb,

I am so excited about coming out, that I thought today was Thursday, and I was that much closer to seeing you. I was really BUMMED OUT to realize it was only Tuesday. Well, I know it will be here soon enough, but I am ready now. Well, I guess I'll see you in a week (and counting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

Love you,

Cindy

It's only Tuesday?!?!?!?
I was sure it was Saturday when I woke up this morning!!

Do great minds think alike?

[I'm counting the days too . . . can you tell?]

; D

Simple Thoughts

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come round right.

~~Shaker Dance~~

I find myself drawn to simple thoughts and simple tasks this day as I sit many miles apart from my sister, yet find my heart beating so close to hers. She stands at the graveside of her dear mother-in-law and bids her farewell from this earth. The once vibrant, sprightly, and at times all too vexing mother of her husband slowed so suddenly and then closed her eyes in final rest before any could fully grasp that 87 signaled her full portion. As accountant, taxi service, personal shopper, friend, and loving daughter, Cindy served May with the love of a daughter without need of the law. Though they shared but a mere handful of years together, my sister will lovingly fondle the bequeathed jade necklace worn round her neck at the burial site and surely shed tears for all the tomorrows she had hoped to share with May. I pray for peace to surround them all on this difficult day of parting.

The gift of a simple cadence to my day affords me the opportunity to sit and pray without checking a watch (I haven’t worn one since I quit participating in the corporate American circus well over 20 years ago). In contemplative moments of late I have pondered much and prayed so deeply for so many: For those burying loved ones, battling illness, sitting by a baby’s bedside in hospital, counting the pennies in the till as word comes down of a lost job or home or opportunity. So many troubles, so many cares in this day. And yet, as I seek His word and sit quietly in His presence a flooding of peace and comfort fills me to overflowing. Just through this little blogspot I have found tethers and tendrils to so many with such joy and love and hope to express and share for all the world to partake and celebrate. Lately, my sporadic sessions on the computer have been consumed with seeking less-trodden paths. Many of these quiet sites do not offer a comment forum or have one that sits idle. I sit peacefully and drink in the simple lives and abundant gifts that these secluded places whisper about. The chatter-less meadow entices me to read back and touch the heart of the writer who daily sojourns without a pat or bantering smile.

I bookmarked many of these little hollows wherein simple folk eschew the bright lights and bling of the common world. Though I do not read by candlelight, nor spin and weave my cloth, I do share so many of the simple ideas and governing thoughts for a life given over to the diurnal tasks without thought to tomorrow’s reward. The smile of a child, the strains of a scale at practice time, the beauty of a family gathered ‘round the table, heads bowed in thankfulness for another blessed day – these treasures fill my chest. Long ago, in a moment of sheer exhaustion and disappointment I left job and picked up dormant dreams of a better life. We struggled and survived on less in order to gain more. Dreams of a home-based life with Gary working among us came true after traversing a rocky path filled with pain, toil, and sacrifice – but the joy persisted and lives today with a gentler path, but still one requiring active effort to remain focused on this portion, not the portion paraded by the world.

Many years ago we turned off our TV, begged off the whirlwind of social activities, and closed our eyes to the bright lights in search of something quieter. I have no regrets as I sit here sipping tea and listening to my children going about the business of learning, dreaming, working, and living right alongside parents who learn, dream, work, and live under the same roof. Though some have questioned and doubts have arisen, the fruit hangs lush upon the vines for all to enjoy here in our cottage life. To have found so many kindreds in the blogdom has brought a smile to my face, which at times falls prey to furrows of worry that the life we cherish may be plowed under in an onslaught of pressure from without. Ironically, while headlines scream of the demise of the American Dream, so many joyfully sing of a different kind of dream – a simple dream of family meals and agrarian projects, of handmade fun and homespun beauty.

The bookshelves lining our cottage weigh heavy with the truth of lives lived many years ago. The simple wisdom and meaningful work they engaged in daily mirrors our daily portion. Though we do not milk animals at dawn (though some lobby heavily for just such a pleasure) or feast solely upon our harvested goods, we do strive to find the meaningful tasks and shed the superfluous. The gift of simplicity we share with our children can be enjoyed in the country, the city, the suburbs, or even somewhere in transition. The blogging world has afforded me the gift of finding so many simply-minded ones. Let us join hands and dance as we preserve the pathway for our children.

Life ends abruptly and only memories remain. Let us ensure those remembrances bring smiles and engender hope. My sister will file back through the years spent with May and savor the sweetness of shared moments. I strive each day for a feast of simple moments to share with my family and nourish their hearts with hope in a world that seems to have forgotten the value of simplicity in the race for more that results in less.

Thus saith the LORD,
Stand ye in the ways,
And see, and ask for the old paths,
Where is the good way,
And walk therein,
And ye shall find rest for your souls.
Jeremiah 6:16

* * * * *
And they that shall be of thee

Shall build the old waste places:
Thou shalt raise up the foundations

Of many generations;
And thou shalt be called,
The repairer of the breach,
The restorer of paths to dwell in.
Isaiah 58:12

Would You Like to Meet My Sister Cindy?

Well, if you do, you'll have to settle for this blog because she doesn't have one of her own (in fact, she barely checks email outside of work). I talk to her on the phone nearly every week (for hours sometimes ... like last Saturday). I vacation with her often (Disneyworld '07, Disneyland '08). But I still miss my li'l sis. We live with a continent between us, but a lifetime of memories bridge the gap with each heartbeat. She's my staunchest ally, greatest cheerleader, and loyal sidekick regardless of the routine. No matter what life throws our way we come out on top with our arms wrapped around each other.

We may share little similarity in taste and style, but we go together like Pooh & Tigger, Martin & Lewis, ketchup & mustard. You won't find us bickering over the last dribble of sweet tea (hers!) or spoonful of lima beans (mine!). While I potter around in an english cottage filled with books and chintz and teapots, she lives with sleek black leather, lacquer-red walls, and an ipod. I dig in the gardens and gather armfuls of roses; she avoids the dirt and enjoys manicures. While I drive a king-sized SUV or crew-cab pickup (how else does one transport all those kids and HARPS and garden goodies?), she sports around in a petite SUV that gets GREAT MILEAGE. (Did I mention she's the thriftiest gal I've ever met? Also unlike me. ) I have five kids; she has five cats. And on and on the list goes.

But ... our "complimentary" personalities fit tightly into an embrace that has carried us through life on a lark filled with laughter and laced with tears. If I need her I just call and I'm always "on call" for her. We've climbed mountains sheer-faced with challenge, danced above the tree line hidden by the fluffy clouds of wonder and enchantment, slogged through the muckiest of valleys, and run like the wind when needed. She picked up and moved a continent away nearly 10 years ago to find the life she always dreamed of. She has a powerful position with a great company and an adorable husband. (She married full-blooded Italian descent; I chose full-blooded German roots -- and we're a couple of rag-tag mixes of this-and-that.) When you mix it all together and throw it in the air it rains down happiness and laughter and endorphins galore when we get together.

In the tune box at right I have added two "Soundtracks" for our life. The first "Music Box Dancer" became a smash hit just prior to my departure for a high school summer exchange trip to Norway. I loved that little tune. My sister missed me dreadfully that summer and every time this music box song came on the radio she would cry. I also have one of those "make-me-cry" reactions when I hear Helen Reddy's "Candle on the Water" from Disney's Pete's Dragon. I sang that to my sister many a time as kids and I still stand by it: "I'll be your candle on the water, my love for you will always burn ..."

In my nostalgic mood I scrolled through some old pics. We have very little record of our childhood, but what I have speaks volumes of our bond. Hope you enjoy this little peek into the past. ; )

Whirling Away with a SMILE! : )

Sisters help you find your smile. : )