The 30 Mile Reckoning

Back in January, my non resolution self made a resolution. After reading an article written by a guy that had run the 30-mile Wildwood Trail in Forest Park, I decided that I would do that. Running in the woods brings me joy and peace. At the time when I made the resolution I wrote "I need an adventure to call my own. One that feeds my soul." And, typically, once I speak something out loud, I can't turn back.

So yesterday at 8 a.m., in the rain and with my support system firmly in place, I was dropped off at the northern most end of Wildwood and my journey began. It would finish roughly 6 1/2 hours later, amidst cheering, festivities, and tears from me at the end near the Oregon Zoo. When I was texting with a friend later who asked me how it had gone, she said "I can't wait to read what you write about it later." And she is right, the best way for me to process what transpired in those 6.5 hours is to put it down here.

Many people who run the Wildwood trail choose to start at the southern end because there is a brutal hill up to Pittock Mansion that falls early when you start from the south but comes at 25 miles when you come from the north. I knew this but something made me want to start from the north. I wanted to end in the city. So I started in the less traveled north amidst a light rain. The first 5 miles were lovely. I listened to my playlist that included many songs that friends and my kids had contributed to. I was able to stay upright and was glad to have the adventure started. I couldn't look around as much as I had hoped because the new rainfall meant a slippery path and I didn't want my adventure to end as quickly as I started.

My first checkpoint was 5.5 miles. I was on "schedule", in one piece and grateful for the Gatorade and encouragement. I continued on feeling hopeful. My ear pods turned off a couple of miles later. I knew this would happen but figured they would run out of charge closer to 15 miles not 6. I wasn't prepared to spend time in the quiet with my thoughts only this early on. So, I pulled out the portable charger, started charging them and since I was still relatively alone, played my music just from my phone.

Those first 12 miles I spent a lot of time thinking about this past year. When I made this resolution, COVID, social distancing and masks weren't part of our every day discussions.  I didn't know I would be wearing a mask on this adventure that I would make sure was on as I was passing others (of note, I went through three on my run and all of them ended up shredded). We didn't know about online school, wildfires, toilet paper shortages and that we should be hoarding clorox wipes. I did not yet know how much I had to learn about racial injustice and my own bias. I knew I would have a child leaving for college in Rhode Island and my life would change dramatically as a result, but that's all I knew - and even that didn't end up being right. He is now happily planted in Valparaiso, Indiana. Oh all the things we didn't know in January. So, as I ran along the trail I thought of how grateful I was. Grateful for my health and that of my loved ones. Grateful that the air was not smoky and forest park was open. Grateful in the midst of the chaos of 2020.

I reached my second check point around mile 14. Still on "schedule" and in one piece. I was starting to notice my ankles and some minor pains. I hungrily ate a peanut butter and jelly and continued on. What came next in the six following miles before my next checkpoint was a slow overtaking of my body. My thoughts were no longer as reflective and peaceful.  I started to hurt. The time between miles extended. I might have scowled at a hill or two. 

What kept me going was knowing that if  I could just make it to my final checkpoint at 21 miles, Jenny would be there. Jenny had agreed to run the final nine with me. I knew she was the one person who could encourage and/or drag me through the final 9 miles. Living in Eugene, I don't get to see her as much as I would like so I would get 9 miles of her just to myself...if I could get there. It wasn't pretty but I made it. I refueled and we were off. Well, actually Jenny was off until she realized what was happening. At this point I was at more of a shuffle. Each time I stopped, restarting was becoming harder and parts of my body were yelling. Without missing a beat she said, "you sent the pace. I will follow." I, of course apologized for the slow pace which she replied "okay, that's your last apology" and off we went.

We spent the first few miles catching up - which was a great distraction for me from my body. She is a teacher so I wanted to hear firsthand what that was like. That's an entirely different post but I so feel for all the amazing teachers - as well as parents and kids - in the midst of this. This is not sustainable. But, I digress. We chatted, laughed and I cursed at any incline - because she gave me permission to. But then that hill came. The hill that most people try to do in the first part of the run....that one. But I was on mile 25 and not feeling all that great. And there it was. IF you have done the Pittock Mansion hike, it is no joke on fresh legs. Nothing about me was fresh. My going up that hill was not pretty. There was walking. There was cursing. But THERE WAS JENNY. "We can do hard things." "Small goals." "Just to the tree." Every time I stopped, she stopped. We got to the top where Pittock Mansion was and she has never been up there. At this point, what does ten more minutes mater? We jogged/shuffled over to the viewpoint, ohhhhd and ahhhd, snapped some pictures and continued on. I would love to say after the hill all was great and I sailed into the finish line. That would not be true. I walked, got frustrated, ran...but Jenny was there every final painful step of the way. On a couple of occasions she even yelled to the fellow hikers "this lady is on her 27th mile! Let's clap for her." This is why I chose her to do that last stretch with me. Time and time again she has sat with me in the dark and reminded me we can do hard things.

We made it. And at the bottom were posters, cheers and people that love me. Even Mason was there - face timed in for the finish. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had done it. They had believed in me every step of the way and were proud of me. It was beautiful, hard, painful, ugly, joyful, peaceful and freeing. I am better for it and reminded of all that I have to be grateful for.

During those first few reflective miles I thought about different ways I identify myself:

Mom, daughter, friend, nurse, learner, believer, reader, writer, runner, nature lover...and yesterday I got to add more...ultra marathoner. Who would have thought? Thanks for being part of the journey.

Lobe you forever

First, to my friends who have sent their kids to college prior to this year, I’m sorry. I had no idea what you were going through or how hard it was. I am sure I didn’t check on you often enough. I now know better.

Now, for those of you are on the brink of this and maybe were blessed with extra feelers, you may not want to read this. Just move along and reach out to me when it’s over for you. Because I do not want to do what I just did ever again. Ever. Don’t worry, Audrey has been alerted and will have to figure out a way to just stay home. Right now she’s just mostly hugging me and nodding.

I don’t know how one leaves part of their heart somewhere else and then walks away. How do we spend countless hours with this human....teaching them to walk, read, sleep, share, play nice, apologize, work hard and then leave them in this teeny tiny room with a stranger and walk away? This is a thing? My heart is definitely opposed to this. 

This decision to go to Valparaiso University was a whirlwind. We had never seen campus before. But, we prepared, packed and planned and, on Sunday, we arrived in Chicago. After a short visit with dear friends who we are very grateful will be near Mason, Michael, Audrey, Mason and  I headed to Valparaiso, Indiana. We arrived Monday. I was relieved that Mason likes the campus. It’s a very small school with a great engineering program. He got to move in ahead of most because he was part of the final orientation group. Our move in time coincided well with a powerful and violent thunderstorm. We watched from our hotel as outside got dark, the wind picked up, the rain came down wildly and our lights went out. Of course Mason was still anxious to move in. We waited until at least the winds died down and the lightning  stopped because...you know...carrying golf clubs on campus in a lightning storm...

Mason got to stay two nights in his dorm with hardly anyone else there. I think that was a good option for him. He seemed more comfortable with the idea of dorm life after.  A couple of years ago he told me he wasn’t sure he could move away for college. Then before I knew it he was gaining confidence and looking Midwest and East Coast. His confidence has grown so much but the extra days were helpful. Orientation was good and the golf coach fabulous. 

Valparaiso is truly a great fit for Mason. He’s rooming with the other freshmen golfer who we just met. They already made plans to golf right after move in. They seem perfect for one another. Everything is right about this place for Mason. I see it.  I was skeptical about their Covid precautions but after hearing several presentations I know they have thought it through. There is a chance it won’t work and Mason will be home within the month, but maybe it will? Who really knows? He is masked, covid tested and attending hybrid, in person and online classes.

So....everything should be great. Easy. This is how it’s supposed to be. But....guess what???  I found the second purpose of a mask! To hide the terrible thing my face does when it cries. Yes. Been crying regularly. Wondered if I would kick into tough mode once we got here. Nope. Not a chance. I even asked Mason to start being difficult to make it easier. Trouble is, I like the kid. Of course I love him but I also actually like him. He’s one of my favorite people to talk to. He’s funny, kind and wicked smart. He and Audrey have become even better friends with Covid and distancing. I will miss his company, his face and his hugs.

He has been feeling more apprehensive  as well as excited as the time we were to leave drew nearer. I am not projecting, he told me this. New is hard. New everything even harder. But here we are. I knew we were in trouble as the day started growing late and I started crying when ANOTHER mom and her son were saying goodbye. I did not even know these people! Both kids looked at me...”mom...you okay?” Nope. We said goodbye shortly after.

Here’s the thing. I am not okay. I just said goodbye to Mason. He is one of my very favorite humans whom I have talked to or seen every day of his life. His laugh is one of my favorite sounds of all time. He is starting this next journey of his life with me cheering from the side....miles and a couple time zones away. I have had a blessed life but I have also done some hard shit and this might have been the hardest.

I WILL be okay. Mason will be great. This I just know. And this knowledge does give me some peace. For now I miss him like crazy and may have to randomly mask and sunglass up even when not necessary to work it out. I remember being told when I had my babies about the sleep, the feeding, the medical...I do not remember anyone saying ...”and then 18 years later you will send them into the world and your heart will break.” But apparently that’s what happens.

Somewhere  in the last couple of years autocorrect changed a text from me to him from love you forever to lobe you forever and it stuck. We have been saying this ever since. So, my Valparaiso Crusader who is now an Indiana resident and embarking on a new journey...your momma lobes you forever. 👂♾❤️

Keep Pivoting Until You Dance

I have not felt able to write for quite awhile. Since the pandemic, I have had trouble wading through many of my thoughts and feelings. Much of the time I have just felt like I was on a merry go round that would not stop. On occasion it feels like it is slowing down but then someone comes along and gives it another push.

In the midst of the world crazy, we had a little of our own kind of crazy. Mason texted me at work one morning and asked if I could call him. We don't generally talk when I am at work and it was a busy morning. I told him I probably wouldn't get a break until lunch and was that okay? He said "no problem. That's fine." A few moments later I got a text from a friend saying they were so sorry about the news but they had confidence Mason would be fine. Ummmmm....I knew I was missing a crucial piece of information. So, I took my phone into the supply room and tried to reach Mason. On a zoom call that morning, Mason learned that Brown cut their golf program, along with several other sports. The school Mason had committed to attend and play golf for back in November would no longer have a competitive golf program. In the moment, I will say that Mason handled the news more graciously than I did. While I cried amongst the wound care supplies, Mason said he knew we would figure it out. I also instructed Mason on texts. Seeing your college dream crumble is not a "wait until lunch" text. It's a "mom, call me now, " text.

I will spare you the details but the last month or so has involved looking at options. Talking to golf programs and coaches, zoom calls, touring campus's virtually, spreadsheets and many difficult conversations. Michael, Sebastian, Mason and I have met a few times to share thoughts, questions, options and to listen. We did not all share the same opinion and Mason knew this. We all brought a different perspective to the conversation. But, despite our feelings, we all knew the two most important things - that the decision belonged to Mason AND that he would have our support whatever he decided.

Father's Day he had it down to two schools. Brown was still a strong contender. He could still attend. He would pursue Engineering and play club golf. Most of the team is staying and will play club golf with the same coach. They will likely get invited to some of the tournaments but as a club team, they don't have the ability to qualify and have all the same opportunities that a varsity sport has. He loved Brown. It was his dream school when it offered BOTH golf and engineering. He had met the golf team and enjoyed them immensely. He loved the campus. He loved the open curriculum that allows him to pursue engineering but still take other classes that interest him such as English....BUT he has always wanted to play competitive college golf. It has been his dream for a very long time and Brown was no longer providing that opportunity.

Valpraiso was the other school that had emerged from the group. Valpraiso is a small school in Indiana. They have a competitive Division 1 golf team. They had a freshman they had recruited that was no longer attending. They were interested in bringing Mason on. The coach was interested, encouraging, personable and persistent. Valpraiso also has a good engineering program. It might not have the academic program diversity Brown has, but it had the golf he dreamed of. He was torn. We had given him all the input we could and now it was up to him. So, Sunday afternoon, in honor of Father's Day, I asked him to do what my dad would have done. My dad, who ironically had a huge passion for golf and would have been one of Mason's biggest fans, would always take out a yellow legal pad and make a pros and cons list. So, I told Mason to make his pro and con list for each school and bring it with him to the river. I was on my paddeboard and Audrey and Mason were in a double kayak. In the middle of the Tualatin River, away from the people, I told him to read us his lists. He had a lot of great points for each school. He had well thought out arguments for both. We listened and asked questions. At the end he said he just didn't know. I told him that was okay. He would figure it out. We enjoyed the rest of our adventure, returned home and he was showering getting ready for dinner with his Dad. After he was showered and dressed, he walked out of his room and with confidence said, "Mom, it's Valpraiso." I said, "okay, it's Valpraiso." And it is. Today he signed his letter of intent to play golf at Valpraiso. He leaves early August.

This kid. I could not be more proud. Someone asked me how I felt. Beyond the excitement and relief, I told them I felt a little sad. I was sad that he was passing on what I am sure is a pretty amazing, well rounded education. He is passing up on Boston and a wonderful and more diverse campus. But, I would have also been sad if he picked Brown. I would have been sad that he was letting go of this dream of playing competitive golf and wondered if he would regret it. There was a bit of a loss either way. But this was his decision. I know with 100 percent certainty that he made this decision for him. He thought long and hard about what he wanted. Mason takes this part of his journey alone. He cannot live someone else's dream. This is his. And he is going for it. He is confident, kind, thoughtful, smart AND a college golfer. He knows he is all of these things so he picked the only one he could pick.

So tonight we had signing day #2. A group of his friends, several who were with him on signing day #1, joined us and we celebrated. Celebrated this kid who had taken an adverse situation and made it into something full of potential and opportunity. With each turn the past few months where things didn't go as expected....over and over....he has pivoted. He has shown more graciousness and courage than most. He has pivoted so many times and he has not wavered or become dizzy. He has just kept going.

So here is to you my amazing Mason. This is your moment...again. You remind me that when one dream doesn't work out, you keep looking until you see the next one waiting behind it. Go do great things and know that you are loved.

My Senior, Class of 2020

The world is so weird right now. I am actually sitting at home on a Tuesday reading a book in the sun. Those who know me well will realize how unusual this is. I don't sit and read in the middle of the day. I have issues with productivity and relaxation - working on them. Also, it's a Tuesday. I took two days of this week so I could attend the kids' high school golf tournaments. Guess what? No tournaments. Not even just no tournaments - no high school golf season, no prom, no school, graduation?...yet to be seen.

I thought about giving my vacation time back. We bid for it months ahead of time so it is not like I can just trade it for another date this summer - those vacations have all been claimed. We actually have been staffed decently at work recently too so I knew my taking my vacation wouldn't cause a shortage where I work. I also needed to wrap my head around this online learning since I kept getting video updates from the principal and by the end of the work day, I didn't have the emotional capacity to watch them and pay attention. So, I decide to keep the time off and it turns out to have been a really good decision. I had no idea how tired I was.

With three days at home already behind me and a world that has pretty much shut down, I have already accomplished my to do list and more. I have fixed the screen door, done a ton of yard work, run more at one time than I have in at least 17 years, cleaned my house, and hung out with Audrey. So, I find myself reading in the sunshine in the backyard in the middle of the afternoon. And then I got to reminiscing....

I would usually have both Mason and Audrey with me right now. Unfortunately, a couple days in to their week with me, Mason made a few decisions that put him in contact with more people than he should have been. I know people have varying degrees of social distancing strictness - and I know people more and less than me. But, considering I work with immunocompromised people in my work, I have some expectations. To his credit, he recognized what he had done and told me that in light of what I do and the people I work with, he should go back to his dad's for the remainder of my time so not to put me and my patients at increased risk. I was proud of him for coming to that realization AND I was heartbroken to miss time with him. Especially when I know time with him is limited.

I have seen a lot of posts this past week about the Seniors. Pictures, thoughts, ideas of how we are grieving over the end of a significant time in their life that came so abruptly. I imagine many of us remember the end of high school with fond memories of prom, spring sports, graduation, etc. I am sad for him that he will miss out on some of those things. Realistically, his high school experience has not been all sunshine and roses though. With this in mind, I asked him what he would ACTUALLY miss with school ending - not what I assume he will miss.

What he will miss most? His final high school golf season. His team looked good this year...probably the best one in the past four years. He also wanted one more year with his amazing high school golf coach Jeff Stirling. Those two have a great bond and he wanted more time. He was looking forward to the last week of school for the seniors because it involves a lot of fun events and not a lot of work. He was looking forward to taking his girlfriend to prom. He was looking forward to graduation.

Even with all of the misses, he has a really good attitude. He is hopeful that some of the summer golf season will be salvaged and he looks forward to starting at Brown next year - assuming that will also go as expected. He is spending a lot of this quarantine working on his golf game - and hopefully finishing up his classes. He reminds me that I need to approach the end of his high school career with a good attitude as well. Because, if I am honest, I am sad for me too. I was already preparing myself for watching him walk across the stage at Sherwood, with all those stinkin' cords around his neck and his amazing big smile...thinking how far we have come and honoring his achievements. I am sad that the trip the two of us were going to take to Philadelphia so he could play in a USGA event he qualified for has been cancelled. I am sad for the experiences we will now miss out on. But, I will take my cue from him and together we will take it in stride and with perspective.

What is happening in this world is so much bigger than us. People are experiencing tremendous losses - losses of loved ones, of jobs, so much loss. People are struggling with loneliness and isolation and food scarcity during this time. The uncertainty of what the next few months will look like is hard for everyone. So, we will keep moving forward. We will be sad for our seniors and the experiences they will miss out on and we will find ways to honor them.

Today, this is how I am going to honor mine. Mason is a great writer. He took poetry last trimester and wrote some really beautiful things .A couple weeks ago he saw that the New York Times accepts submissions each week for love stories that are 100 words or less, so he submitted his. It hasn't been chosen yet.... their loss...



"When I’m single, I binge romcoms. Don’t ask me why. Despite this, standing outside with my arm around my “best friend”, I’d been actively avoiding my destiny. The rain started falling, the only thing missing some ambient, upbeat romance song. It took me 4 months to realize how to feel about the cute, smart, funny girl in first period, 30 minutes to kiss her. Underneath the stars, we’d finally gotten it right. Unfortunately for me, it turns out none of the Netflix romcoms remembered to show the guy getting home 2 hours late. Go figure."

*oh and of note, the 2 hours late didn't go over so well but that made it less poetic.

**photo credit to the amazing Jeff Peters

I Am Pretty Sure It Will Be Okay

I stole this quote from Audrey that one of her favorite teachers uses. I just know pieces of the original story but it seems an appropriate quote right now.

Damn. What a world right now. I had to actually ask my family for toilet paper the other day. I passed up a rare sighting of toilet paper at Costco a few weeks back because, even though I was aware of the hoarding and this rare find, it didn't seem right for me, a family of sometimes one, sometimes three, to take 30 rolls of toilet paper. But then, when I did need some...none to be found. Joke is on me. No worries, I'm set again for a bit and probably won't pass it over next time I see it at Costco.

I am not ignorant of the news but I try to limit my intake. I am going to work as normal. Work is slightly less busy as those treatments that aren't time sensitive are being put off -but that just means a few less people a day. Most oncology patients need their chemotherapy regularly. So, we continue on as we do - just sharing exchanges through masks and talking about some of the anxiety and fears that come along with the virus. The hardest change at work has been that visitors aren't allowed any more in the infusion room with very few exceptions. This means that people are getting their treatments alone. While my job at times can be easier without family members and I do cherish the one on one conversations I get to have when it is just me and the patient, I can't be by their side the entire treatment. Sometimes it looks a bit lonely when they are with us for hours. Also, they sometimes tell me I am the only person they have seen in a couple weeks. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PRESSURE THAT IS? I feel like I need to learn some magic tricks or something to live up to the expectation they must have of their ONE human interaction for weeks.

Even though my work continues mostly as normal, preparations are being made. The OHSU infusion clinic downtown has opened a unit to treat oncology patients that also have Covid-19 or are being ruled out. They need to be separate from the immunocompromised population without the virus. I know other health systems are also making preparations for a possible influx of Covid-19 patients and how to treat them, keep those patients not positive safe all the while keeping themselves safe. I worry about my friends and family at Providence Newberg and other hospitals. I know they have cared for patients who are positive. I pray daily that they are protected physically and mentally during this time.

At times I have had the crazy feeling that I wish I was still working alongside them. Leaving was a good decision for me but during this crisis, there is something comforting about working alongside the people that know you so well and where you feel your skills are best utilized. But, I just keep trying to be open to whatever is in store for me. Earlier this week, we got an email at work looking for volunteers to float to the waterfront clinic because, if they staff the Covid infusion unit, they will have some holes that need to be filled on their general unit. So, I raised my hand. I don't like change and have had more than my fill the past year. But, I was just feeling underutilized and like I needed to be open. And then I got this email. I just finished my first day cross training today. The staff was very welcoming and lovely. I don't know if I will be needed or not but I am willing. And...showing up is more than half the battle.

But I have to tell you how it is that I can raise my hand and volunteer for something that is hard. It is because of the people in my life. It is because of you. People are willingly agreeing to stay in their home and self isolate to give me and all the healthcare providers a chance. Willing to not meet with loved ones to protect the vulnerable, immunocompromised people that I have the privilege to see every day. I can raise my hand because the texts I get daily asking me if I am okay and what I need. I have been fed the past two nights by my beautiful friend leaving meals for me - including the nacho making kit pictured above. I receive pictures of my other friends' adorable baby niece regularly because he knows I need to see something innocent and good. Audrey sets her alarm some days so she can quote Dr. McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy and remind me "it's a beautiful day to save lives" before I go to work. It is because of my beautiful community that when asked, I will jump up and down and say, I will. I can because I have a community who fills me up. Thank you. I don't know how long this will last but in the end, I am pretty sure it will be okay.

Still we rise

Bonus time today.  Sometimes I have to pick up a weekend shift. I don't mind - the weekends are at a different location and it is usually a bit more chill than the weekdays. Lately we have had fewer patients than normal because those people that aren't getting chemo and are on treatments that can be pushed out are doing so because of..well you know..that stinkin pandemic. They asked for a volunteer to go home early and i jumped up and down...pick me pick me. One last day of sunshine. I want to write, mow my lawn, weed and hang with my dog. I want to take a second to breathe and get some vitamin D and try to make sense of a world that seems to have gone mad at times.

I have SO many thoughts about what I am seeing in the world right now. For those of you who know me well, won't be surprised to know that my mind is racing right now. All. The. Time. I am an over thinker on a slow day. But when I sort through all the thoughts and the noise I come down to a few things that are keeping me up and concerned.

My patients. I am worried about my patients. You know when they talk about those people who are at higher risk because of a variety of factors? Immuno-compromised, older, etc. Those are the people I work with daily. I worry about them without the coronavirus. So, this has just heightened everything. And they feel it. One of my patients told me the other day, "you know, this will kill me if I get it." Yep. He is on chemo so his ability to fight infections is low. He also has  chronic respiratory condition from years of smoking and he is over 70. He's right. It could kill him. So, I do what I can do. I wash my hands to the point that they are cracking and look terrible. I sanitize everything often. I try to make good choices. Let me say that again..I try.

This brings me to my next concern. I feel like there is a whole of of shaming going on over who is doing or not doing what. Let's stop shaming. What if we instead assumed that everyone is trying to make sense of a new situation. Nobody has been down this road before. It is uncharted and scary as hell. It is scary for my friends at the hospitals on the frontlines. It is scary for your neighbors who are over 70 and in compromised health, it is scary for the small business owner that had to lay of his staff. There is a whole lot of fear out there. Someone said to Audrey "I am surprised your mom let you do that since is a nurse." Yes. I am a nurse. I am not an expert on what is happening now. I am a nurse. I am a mom. I am a daughter. I am a human. I look at each decision I have to make in this current environment and weigh a lot of things and then make a decision. Some are good. Some maybe aren't. Some decisions I made last week I might not make this week because we keep getting new information. Guess what though? I am trying to do my best. I am showing up and trying to do right. So, when I hear about someone taking extra toilet paper or going to a pretty crowded place, I have tried to start pausing before I am quick to react. I have not always been successful. I am working on it. Maybe we could all work on it more. Let's redirect our energy. Look at what you can do to make this situation better and focus on that. This is what I am going to try to do more of. I can minimize my contacts. I can check on my people. And, I can stop judging others I see who might make different decisions. If they ask me, I can definitely offer what I know or a suggestion. If they choose differently and don't ask? I can redirect my energy.

Finally, my other biggest concern? Mental health. I had a patient the other day who was a bit depressed before the coronavirus. He is older, a widower, lives in a retirement facility and can't walk for long periods of time. Now with the virus, he can't eat with the other people at his facility because of distancing. His favorite bookshop is closed. He can't see his extended family because of health concerns so he is mostly alone. People who already struggled with loneliness, depression and anxiety are now navigating a pandemic. People who experience physical and/or emotional abuse are now potentially spending more time with their abuser. Social distancing is going to compound mental health issues that already existed. People are experiencing disappointment from canceled trips, closing businesses, sports seasons canceled AND illness. Every persons' disappointment is valid. I had to check myself the other day. Sometimes it sucks to have your mom as a nurse. Just ask my kids. Mason was sad about the postponement of his senior golf season. Rightfully so. I need to validate his disappointment. This is not what I did. The first words out of my mouth? "There are people dying." While this is true, this is not helpful. His disappointment is real. He is 17. This is his last golf season. This is why he goes to high school. His team has the potential to be really good this year. He gets to be disappointed. Next time, I need to stop. Validate. Listen. He will get perspective on the magnitude of the situation to the rest of the world because I know he pays attention AND his mom will make sure he does. But....first let each person experience the loss and disappointment They are all real.

With everything shutting down, we have more time on our hands. This is what I plan to do and hope some of you will consider doing the same. Reach out to people -text, phone, face time. Check on them. We are not all okay. We are scared, anxious, lonely and for those trying to homeschool now, possibly losing our minds. Ask your friends that are healthcare providers what they need. I believe some places are accepting sewn masks and other supplies.  The kids are scared. Their worlds are upside down. They are watching us. So, let's show them that even though we are unsure and possibly scared of the unknown, we can still do good. We can be positive, helpful and encouraging. We can be better and we can still rise.

The picture I included is of one of my very favorite humans. I am fortunate to have people who check on me. This one checks on me multiple times a day -pandemic or not. She has asthma. Please don't hug her. I need her to be healthy - and the world does too. 

Proud Momma

Mason told me yesterday that a friend of his overheard two girls talking about him in class. They said how proud his parents must be that he got into Brown. I have heard that quite a bit when people hear where he is going. "You must be so proud." I said to Mason, "you know, that's not why I am proud of you, right?" His response? "Yes, I know you well enough to know that."

Do I love that he is going to Brown? Yep - mostly. As his mom, the distance isn't ideal but I will manage. After my visit there with him this summer it did seem like a really good fit. I think he will find kids there like him - smart, curious, driven. It is a good size, a great city and has the major he is looking for. Oh, and the golf. He was literally drooling when the coach was talking about some of the courses they will play. Shoot, I even recognized the names of the courses.

But getting into Brown is not why I am proud of this kid. I have known he was smart enough for any school for years. His brain has always worked a little differently. It has been a blessing and a curse for him. School has come easily, other things have not, especially when he was little. He overwhelmed easily. I think he was taking in so much that he would get overstimulated easily. Sleep and shutting off his brain has always been a battle. So his smarts....not news to me. I would love to take credit but let's be real. My grades were good but not a 4.0. My SAT score? Not even close. I could not have gotten in to an Ivy League. I'm good with it. We all have our strengths.

I am proud that he is pursuing a dream to play college golf. I am proud that he has put in thousands of hours on the golf course or with his coaches whether at 6 am before school or in the dark practicing after a tournament because he loves it and this is his dream. I am proud that he has pushed himself in school and never backed away from a challenging class. I am proud that he believes that moving across the country and pursuing a dream to play golf and pursue a degree is possible. This is outside his comfort zone but he knows he can do it. I am proud that he is wiling to take the risk.

I am also proud of the human he has become and is becoming. When he isn't at my house, we talk on the phone each night. If I try to get off the phone without talking about my day, he will stop me and make me tell him about it. He asks good questions. He is kind. When I told him I wasn't crazy about something he said about a kid, he made it right. He looks out for his sister. He is becoming a good listener. This has been a process but he is paying attention. 

If he had chosen to go somewhere else and could articulate his reasons and it still afforded him the opportunity to pursue his dream, I would be just as proud. Don't get me wrong, I will happily wear my new Brown sweatshirt.  I will applaud the exceptional education and experience that is ahead of him BUT I was proud of this human long before he got the acceptance letter.

The Call of the Wild

I went on a trail run right before the end of 2019. I had been on a few in the past - nothing too serious. Trail runs have always made me a little nervous. I am worried about turning an ankle on roots and getting lost. Funny since I can also get lost road running and I have fallen twice on the road. Irrational or not, these fears, and the inconvenience of sometimes getting to a trail kept me from trail running. That was until someone made the flippant comment that I am not a trail runner. I am quietly competitive - mostly with myself. But, give me a challenge or tell me what I can't do, and I am likely going to try to prove you wrong. You may never know it, but I will. This comment about my trail running, lead me to Forest Park right before the New Year.

The run was great. I had already told myself that I would be slower because of the obstacles and just chill about the pace. It was muddy but so peaceful. I loved it. All five miles of it. I was in heaven. This should come as no surprise. I love to hike and mostly love to run so it's a perfect fit. I picked a section of Forest Park that is populated enough that I didn't have to worry about being too isolated. I decided that day that trail running was going to become more a part of my new year.

I don't tend to make New Year's Resolutions. I make a list of things I hope to accomplish for my birthday but nothing typically for the new year. Just not my thing. Mason pressed me this year. He told me he was going to work on not swearing for the year. This is great but also kind of funny because it is very rare that I hear any four letter word coming out of that kids' mouth....unless it is "fore." Then he says "what's your resolution mom?" And....he wouldn't let up. So, I said, plank for six minutes. Done. Resolution. I picked the one thing I know I can beat him at. Okay, maybe a little competitive. And, then, to get it off my plate, I nailed it the first week in. Done. Resolutions complete....until today.

On Sunday mornings that Mason is with me and I have an extra minute, I will get the Sunday Oregonian. He likes to read it and I will look at it occasionally. So, this past Sunday, I grabbed it and was looking at it after church. There was actually a whole section on rainy day hikes and all the races for 2020. It was kind of perfect. Just as I was closing it I saw a column from a writer that had run the entire Wildwood trail with his girlfriend. I was captivated. Thirty miles end to end.  I started thinking more about it.

Today I had a rare weekday off of work because I have a weekend shift this week. I decided to do another trail run. The first few days of 2020 weren't quite as I had hoped. It started with a patient firing me. I have only had this happen twice since becoming a nurse and both times have been at my current job. Even when it is coming from not the kindest patient, it is hard on the ego. The firing, along with a couple other things I won't go into, left me a little disheartened by the start of the year. So, I decided I needed to go in search of a new perspective and for me, that means outside. So, after coffee with my beautiful friend I headed for the Forest.

Halfway into my run, I was reminded the importance of having my own adventure. This year will be full of adventures that surround Mason graduating and moving to Rhode Island. Audrey's life is a continual adventure and my vacation time is already all booked with golf and college related outings. But, I need an adventure to call my own. One that feeds my soul. And, as I was running in Forest Park, I knew what it was. I am going to run the Wildwood Trail, all 30 miles, before my birthday next October. It will not be an organized race and I will not need to break a certain time. It will be my race. I have already enlisted my beautiful crew to run, provide encouragement, water and snacks along the way. And, as they always do, they said absolutely yes.

So....for not being a resolution person....it appears I now have one.