57 Chevy – Couldausedanotherday

I love Christmas

I love my memories of Christmases past. The ones when our boys were little are the ones I cherish most.

This Christmas, after a snow cancelled flight and driving a rental car through the night with friends we just made at the airport, Diane and I arrived for a week’s stay at our oldest son’s house in Michigan’s UP.

It was our first reunion with our grown up sons, their wives and kids (is it a re-union if it’s the first time?).

One Christmas morning years ago, Diane gave me a 1957 Chevy . That’s a Christmas memory that’s hard to beat, but this year was our best Christmas yet. Holding and interacting with our little grandchildren was priceless.

Witnessing how our sons love their wives and kids was rewarding. Diane got to snow ski again after many years, and I got to take pictures with my new camera (shot hundreds, shoulda taken more). We played in the house and we played in the snow.

My younger son, Robin, gave me a flying camera, a drone. My first flying lesson began by launching it from the ice covered snow in the garden.

Robin took this shot through his phone, from the camera on the drone, before a take-off

I hope it’s a good memory for my three year old grandson, Kellen, when he hugged the gate for protection like I told him, as the nearly controlled drone buzzed over his head to awkwardly touchdown behind him in the back yard.

This Christmas could have only been better if, on top of being with our kids and grand kids, I received another classic Chevy. Well, actually, my oldest son, Brandon, did give me a 57 Chevy he made with his computer and router.

I hope this gathering was a preview of Christmases future.

A few weeks after returning home, I was in Portland to help my brother, Mark, prepare to move. Later, we drove over to see our brother Dan at his Alpha Stone Works shop. While Dan was showing me the new stone cutter (he went to Germany to buy), he asked how I was and if my cancer was gone now.

I explained that Multiple Myeloma doesn’t go away, but I’m doing okay right now, and that I get tested every three months to monitor the cancer. I told him, “I can live with that….. Get it? While I’m alive – I can live?”

Because, next time the cancer activates, or the time after that – one of those times will be the last time, and the following result will be my life ending.

Usually quite stoic, he let out a hearty chuckle. He appreciated that dark (rest of my life) humor enough to recount it later at the restaurant with all five of us at the table. We all enjoyed a good laugh (though some politely tried to resist), not over the inevitable end of my life, but from stumbling upon a little sarcastic humor in the situation.

*On our last visit to the shore of Lake Superior, we were burning our bare feet on hot sand just a short walk from here.*

I remain thankful to God for a life full of blessings.

Too busy for Cancer, way too busy to die

Most mornings, I wake before the alarm. My sleeping mind seems to be already busy when it joins my waking mind. I give myself an hour before I must leave for work, but if I deviate from my routine, I’ll probably have to drive.

I normally walk the commute, it’s not a race, but there is no time to stop and smell the roses. I usually have a few minutes to quickly check email and a news site before the clock strikes eight.

I always try to work at a quick, efficient pace, there’s way more to do in a day than I can get done. My walk home could be more leisurely, but I hurry again to get busy on my unfinished or my next endeavors. A life overflowing with God’s blessings is a very busy life.

I hurry to get something done before dinner, and chip away at more until bed time. I might stop and join Diane for a little TV watching, then hurry off to sleep, and begin again. There’s much to do and time seems short. I’m too busy for Cancer, way too busy to die.

*Out for a drive in the Chevy – Thanks, Diane MacDonald, for the picture*

One day years ago, my job took me to an elderly man’s house. It was practically on the campus of the university in our town. The old timer seemed to know everyone there, and they all addressed him, “Grandpa.”

I quickly learned that he was deep in the pursuit of Genealogy, and that he had, “much yet to discover, record, organize, and share.” He was sure the Lord wouldn’t be, “calling him home” before this massive mission of lineage research was completed.

One day recently, my job took me back to the Campus Grandpa’s house – to his vacant house. I wonder if he had enough time to feel the satisfaction of a job well done.

Nothing I keep myself so busy with would sway the Lord to let me catch a later flight (I don’t believe it works that way). My projects, my lists from top priority on down doesn’t even make a blip on the radar screen of the important things in life.

The most important things I’ll ever do, have probably been done, and would probably be done better if I could do them over, but that’s life.

My job took me recently to another house. There I recognized someone there who recognized me. Our kids were friends in school. She asked, “How have you been – didn’t you have cancer?”

I told her I’ve had three cancers, and one is incurable, but right now I’m doing okay. Her tone lowered just a bit, and in a reluctantly accepting voice she said, “Well, I guess that’s life.” I added, “Yea, or maybe that’s death.”

I love the sounds this car makes

I enjoyed the 7 hour scenic drive down the coast Friday to visit my brother.

I almost hit a bird,

took in some sites,

and finally made it to the last town before the California border.

We did a couple computer projects, ran our radio control cars on the beach, streamed an Athey Creek service, ate pizza and drank Mt. Dew.

I got some pictures of my brother, Loren,

and one of his Harley’s.

I drove the same panoramic route to return home Monday. It felt good to roll into the shop just before thunder introduced a powerful downpour.

It feels like time is passing about as quickly as the road under that Harley. For this remission, family, friends, and countless blessings, I remain thankful to God.

Hey, Map Face!

My face is healing where the cancer was removed, but if you look closely you can see a map of Nevada, or maybe its Florida.

Many have complimented the doctor’s work on my face (his specialty is breast reconstruction). When he finished removing the stitches he said, “You can walk out of here cancer free.” I replied, “Well – actually, there is no cure yet for my Multiple Myeloma.”

He looked quickly at the floor and muttered something quietly. I just should have just said thank you. I’m never sure, sometimes maybe I should keep my thoughts to myself.

Recently while in a hardware store, there was a young man having a very bad day. A clerk was trying to help him find something he needed – quickly. I saw him when I passed the end of his isle; I was looking at fire extinguishers in the next row.

I heard him say loud and clearly, “Everything that could possibly go wrong today has gone wrong!” I was tempted for just a moment to step around the corner and ask him if he has incurable cancer. “No? Then you do not realize what an absolutely wonderful day you are having.”

Should I have barged in with my unsolicited observation? Would it have been a welcome point of view not previously considered? Or would it be just one more annoyance in his near record bad day?

Doing the fire repair on my car has been like doing multiple, interconnected story problems associated with replacing fuel lines, vacuum lines, coil wires, starter wires, spark plug wires, distributor cap, and finally reconnecting the battery.

Before you touch cable to post you mentally add up the scores from all the story problems for a tally landing you somewhere on the scale of: instantly bursting into flames, wires glowing, plastic melting, or – cranking over and starting the engine.

Story Problem Example: a large red wire left the alternator heading west, to the starter solenoid. Midway along its journey it was joined by a medium gauge red wire that arrived at the starter at the same time. What was the origin of the second red wire, and to which of three terminals should it be connected?

Answer: take more pictures and make more diagrams before starting a project like this. I connected the battery, poured some gasoline in the carburetor and (with a fresh extinguisher standing by) hit the key. It started right up. That car sounds good, and it was nice to hear it running again.