I consider myself fortunate for a lot of reasons. 

Finally, after many years, our kids are all apparently well-adjusted, kind, productive adults who care for others. After family wrenching, yet uniting, struggles with addictions of various sorts, they/we have managed to come together and to be a unit. The grandkids enjoy one another and look forward to any time they get with cousins and their grandparents. Even though all five of our offspring are very independent and live miles apart, we have emerged into an interdependent healthy place that I would not have believed possible. 

I consider myself fortunate.

Now, nearing our 50^th wedding anniversary, I deeply value the relationship we have managed to construct. It is not necessary to return to past difficulties or slights or if-only thoughts. We are here now, happily in our 17^th home that we custom built to our liking. I love my large and functional kitchen with the handy and organized pantry. The wood burning fireplace, screened in porch, wide front porch for watching birds and storms, river just down the hill, and warm floors are as we designed. I value the understanding and trust of one another we have managed to forge and that grace is extended between us, often without even noticing.

I consider myself fortunate.

After homeschooling and being an at-home-mom for our family for several decades, I built several careers. I eventually learned that I was good at seeing the strengths of those around me, good at creating connections between people, and good at leading a group of people towards mutually beneficial outcomes. At age forty-three, I discovered I could lead. At age fifty-three, I found I was smarter than I had thought, even without a college degree. At age fifty-eight, I realized I could, should, work for myself and I built a profitable and respectable business beyond what I would have believed I could do. 

I consider myself fortunate.

The past few years have brought lots of change. Politically, I have become more aware; socially, I have become broader; spiritually, I have become more peaceful. I am more tolerant, less evaluative, and feel less need to express my opinion. I have little stress, mainly because I adhere to the inner warning to not dwell on things I cannot change and/or have little control over. It’s not that I don’t care, it is that I don’t worry. I do what I can where I am. 

Physically, I have had changes as well. In the past twenty-one months, I have gotten a new hip and have been diagnosed with and treated for cancer. Cancer that I am told is inoperable (every time I ask) and that is expected to be terminal. But I have access to good medical care and, thanks to being old enough for Medicare, I have good insurance coverage that allows me to get treatment and most of that locally. Thanks to the good advice of the medical professionals in our family and the on-going and deep support of all of the rest of them, I have built a solid team of nurses and doctors and have learned how to get my needs met and questions answered. I’m very thankful for sticking with physical fitness over the years so that now, even though I am unable to keep up that level of exercise, I benefit from having come into this trek with strength and stamina.

For some unknown reason, at a cellular level, I had what was needed to respond really well to immunotherapy. I am in the midst of a “durable response” and what doctors agree is “bonus time.”  One cancer expert has even said my response is anomalous in his experience. For the same unknown reason, my immune system also responded to the treatment in overdrive with unpleasant side effects, so eventually I decided to stop those treatments. At least for now, the stimulated immune response had kept the cancer in check even if not making it disappear.

 Thanks to a responsive palliative care team, I have found drugs that lessen my pain and some that give me some perceived energy. Those same amazing women (in my case) also understand my propensity to be drug free, so hear me well and support me when I tell them I don’t need a drug any longer. Currently, my supply of unused prescriptions is growing, but it is there if/when I need any of them again.

I live now from scan to scan and so far, for the past 12 months, I have just been in maintenance mode. Cancer fatigue is a real thing, but today, I am able to be up and around and anticipate being able to walk to the mailbox and garden and maybe even the river. I’ll be able to make a nice, healthy meal for Dave and Joel and myself and be able to stay up long enough to watch a movie. I am especially thankful that I expect to be able to sleep soundly, even with some up and down in the night related to cancer annoyances.

I consider myself fortunate.

Dave and I just had a short anniversary-ish trip to Louisville, Kentucky. We started with the idea of heading to a less visited beach on the east side of Baja California that Dave has long wanted me to experience. Distance, heat and reality of what I am able to do made us reconsider, so we thought, “Colorado.”  Back to our honeymoon and early marriage destinations. Again, distance and length of travel made us reconsider. Reality set in. Louisville was a drivable distance, had good restaurants, and an interesting distillery tour. We had a twentieth floor Airbnb with spectacular views smack dab in the middle of downtown.  A really good Mexican food restaurant and even a Triple A baseball game were surprise add-ons to our expected taste of bourbon and a bit of seafood. Before my next scan and whatever it might reveal, we know what I am able to do now so we did it. And we enjoyed it. 

The other evening, sitting on our front porch and marveling at what we have been given, Dave suggested that we have an anniversary month. We have another 30 days before our actual wedding date anniversary, so maybe we’ll head up to Chicago for an overnight and a trip to our (my) favorite restaurant. Or, with a bit more rain, maybe we’ll be able to kayak down the river and spot one of the eagles that live nearby. Lunch with friends should definitely be on the calendar. We’ll just keep celebrating for a month.

I find that joy comes easily for me these days. Time and energy to enjoy a visit with one of several dear friends…joy. Father’s Day spent with family and extended family doing all that our River Home makes possible…joy. I weeded the sunflower hill yesterday and today it is neat and growing…joy. I’m a little bit surprised at the depth of joy I have over our new solar array. It makes me feel as if we are doing something to help. Small things bring me joy. Joel asking what “loyal” or some song lyric means, helping a person realize a dream of having a driver’s license, making it to the very gentle yoga class and feeling like I belong at the YMCA all bring me joy.

Joy is so simple when you consider yourself fortunate. And I consider myself very, very fortunate.