I Wanna Be a Coward When I Grow Up

19 more radiation treatments to go! Jordan is doing well overall. She has kept her appetite and hasn't been getting sick. Her attitude hasn't slipped a bit and she doesn't seem to mind letting me know what she thinks. Her mobility has gotten worse though. We have brought the wheelchair into the house and walking around is a chore even with my help. The forty-two steps from the bed to the bathroom seem to get longer each trip. Her speech is also beginning to slur a little more. It is probably comical for someone on the outside. I always thought we would be much older before I started yelling "huh!?!" and squinting my eyes when trying to figure out what she was saying. Jordan has been sleeping like a champ. After breakfast, after a trip to the bathroom, after treatment, after an episode of The Bachelor in Paradise, before dinner, after dinner and anywhere else in between. I'm thankful that she has been able to rest and my hope is that her body is in full on recovery mode when she is asleep. However, I know though that she would rather be up and in the middle of everything that is going on.

We watched the eclipse on Monday with some close friends. The kiddos were impressed for about four minutes before they switched their attention to snacks and nerf guns. I thoroughly enjoyed it though. It was great to sit and just be a part of this slow celestial crawl. The sun, moon and earth were doing their own thing (just as any other day). It wasn't about us. Not sure what it was but I liked that.

No retinal damage for this crew.

All glasses worn approved by NASA and Neil Degrasse Tyson.

Just another beautiful day in Oregon.

After the eclipse, the kids and I took Jordan to her radiation appointment. While waiting in the lobby I thought I would escape reality for ten minutes and read a little TIME magazine. I wasn't halfway finished flipping through the pictures when I came across an article titled: It's Okay to Be a Coward About Cancer. Come on TIME! Where is the unbiased reporting on Russia or the story on the new fad that millennials are using to destroy the world as we know it? I can't even read a magazine at the doctor's office for crying out loud. So I had to read the article. My favorite line was "Cancer doesn't give a damn how tough you are. Cancer doesn't care if you stared down the North Koreans, or won the Tour De France." Now that is some good writing!

The article didn't teach me much. It did stir me up though and force me to think (so maybe it did teach me a few things). I started thinking about my approach to this whole situation. So of course pretty much every interaction I've had since Monday afternoon has forced me to come to terms with things this article stirred up. Pandora's Wilco playlist seemed a bit more self-reflective, the book I'm reading seemed to be speaking right to me, emails/conversations all seemed to be in on the bit. It just took me a few days to start to make some sense of it all.

I've been tossing around the idea since Monday that now more than ever it is okay to be not okay. It is perfectly acceptable to think "this sucks". As in "this sucks" with a period on the end of it. Like there is no explanation or tid-bit of wisdom or life lesson or anything else right now.

So what I'm saying is that it is okay to be a bit of a coward. A word that almost makes me shudder. I'd rather be called almost anything else. If you stacked up my life I'd hope one of the last things that came to mind after "he sure was handsome" was "he was such a coward". However, I think there is a place for some cowardice in all of our lives. Some admitting that things are not always under our complete control. That is just flat out scary to me.

The weird thing is that in that self-transparency I've immediately experienced grace. It feels good to just come out and say it. To put a name to how I feel some days. So I'm committed to acknowledging my own ineffectiveness and foolishness. I think we all need to give ourselves some grace to be able to say "this sucks (period)".

A friend (in direct response to my Village People research) sent me some lines from a Townes Van Zandt tune. I don't think his studio albums ever did him justice because the dude could tell a story. Like listening to your grandad the first time he told you that war story or about brewing beer in his closet growing up. You just hang onto those words. They seem to mean a little more. So I'll just leave a little Townes Van Zandt wisdom with you.

Days up and down they come

Like rain on a conga drum

Forget most, remember some

But don't turn none away

Everything is not enough

Nothin' is too much to bear

Where you been is good and gone

All you keep is the gettin' there

To live is to fly

Low and high