"Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel, May the winds take your troubles away"

One week ago Jordan and I celebrated our thirteenth wedding anniversary. We kicked things off with breakfast in bed. Then we loaded up the van with the kiddos/Jordan's parents and headed to the coast for three days. Jordan has been asking to see the ocean for the last six weeks and I've dreaded the thought of making that trek with everything that has been going on. But I gave in and made the most untraditional anniversary excursion a reality. It took the full cooperation of everyone involved. All hands on deck for three days. We fed the seals at the aquarium, went to the arcade and had ice cream. Jordan and I shared the pull out sofa in our hotel room. So for the first time in a few months, I got to fall asleep next to my wife. A nice bonus I hadn't even considered in the chaos of planning the trip. We rented a special wheelchair and got Jordan down to the beach. The kids splashed in the water (shivering) and ran away from dead crabs (shrieking).

I took Jordan's shoe off of her right foot (the one that she still has feeling in) and I rubbed cold wet sand all over it. I smeared it between her toes. I made a wet little pile on top of her foot and let the weight of it linger. I rolled her to the edge of the lazy small waves. I kneeled and washed the sand off of her foot. I made sure to take the time to rub the sand lightly into her skin one more time. I poured water from my hands onto her feet until Jordan gave me a small grimace.

I did this for several reasons (only one being that I'm an annoying ass). I wanted there to be the connection. I wanted her to feel the cold and the grit. It can't be described fully and it can't be dreamt up. It has to be experienced. You are thinking about it right now and it isn't doing this simple act the justice it deserves. Cancer and a stupid beach wheelchair weren't going to steal that from Jordan. We shared that moment. It is ours forever (piss off Cancer).

Getting ready to head back I couldn't help but gaze off into the water. If you haven't stared at the seemingly endless and always changing waters of the ocean and felt completely insignificant I sincerely question your humanity. There was tension tied to that moment. The tension of the present focus of what a single grain of sand feels like being rubbed onto your foot vs. the reality that life seems like nothing more than a few uncontrollable moments in time. Holy run-on sentence and existential crisis Batman! We wrapped up our beach trip and retreated back to our wonderful home in Parkdale. As we were unloading Jordan I couldn't help but think that might have been the last time we would leave our neighborhood as a family (existential crisis back on).

Just a couple of days later we celebrated Jordan's birthday. We had homemade chocolate cake (in bed), visits from a few friends, well wishes/cards from near/far and Jordan received an incredibly generous gift from our school co-workers. Most importantly we celebrated life. It was weird and it was a little chaotic. But we did all that we could. Continuing to lean into what we have before Cancer can take it away.

The day after Jordan's birthday we cooked out with friends and roasted marshmallows. We drug Jordan to the backyard and made a huge mess eating smores and laughing. As Jordan went to bed she had trouble breathing. She coughed, snored and gargled her way through the night. This continued through breakfast the next day so I called hospice. A nurse came out, pumped her full of strong medicine and her breathing got better. She also shared that Jordan should not eat or drink anything for the rest of the day as there is a danger of aspiration. Little did the nurse know Jordan spent ten minutes trying to tell her that she wanted a Coke. I acted like I didn't know what she was saying and the nurse never caught on (I snuck her a sip of Coke when she left).

As the nurse was leaving she gave me one of those "this is what death looks like" pamphlets and opened it to a section on breathing for me to read at my leisure. She shared that Jordan could be moving into the next stages and that could mean days or hours instead of months or weeks. The timeline continues to shrink. Cancer continues to take.

This set our lazy Sunday ablaze. We called the kids back from the impromptu slip n' slide party going on up the street, closed the doors and tried to process. Jordan slipped in and out of sleep and moments of clarity. Singing along to songs, smiling at stupid stories and weeping. Pretty much a normal day in that regard. I spent lots of the day staring out our bedroom window. I watched a spider make a brave journey from the edge of our house to a nearby tree. It danced along its thin invisible string as the wind blew. I found myself rooting for the spider. I felt invested even though I won't hesitate to smash that thing into oblivion if it makes it inside our home (I hate spiders!!!). I also watched a cottonwood tree (I learned what a cottonwood tree was yesterday) create what appeared to be snow in May. This huge tree in our neighborhood was quickly shedding its seeds inside this white, fluffy cotton like snow. It flowed down in slow motion all day long. It was blown in circles by the wind and accumulated at the edge of the yard. I even got some in my mouth when I was running (not as pleasant as catching a real snowflake by the way). The "snow" was a very real anchor in the present moment. It kept pulling me back from the uncontrollable worry-filled thoughts of what could be next. It was a welcome reminder to remain in the present moment even if it was one filled with pain.

Jordan slept well through the night thanks to tons of medication. We will spend our day staring at the Cottonwood snow and waiting for our next visit from hospice.

The kids love the hot tub!

Parker quietly plotting a way to steal a seal from the aquarium.

Do all kids love digging holes or are we secretly raising dogs?

Seaside, Oregon. Right behind a statue commemorating the turnaround point of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Not in the right place by the way...

Jackets and long sleeves on the beach.

Getting that foot sandy and wet!

The mountain remains the focus around here. Even with two studs in the foreground.

Birthday pedicure and drinks!

Happy anniversary from the pull out.

Jordan is still finding a reason to smile every day.

Smores and a campfire!