Spaaah Day for a Cause

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine and I went to The Boulders Resort in Carefree to be pampered and receive goody bags like the rock stars we most certainly are not...and it was all for a wonderful cause. The event benefited the Fresh Start Women's Foundation.

Fresh Start is a resource center for women, which helps them with resumes so they can find a job to courses on budgeting and anger management. Recognizing that women faces challenges every day without the support they truly need to overcome those challenges, Fresh Start gives women the tools they need to be successful in life. It is a great organization.

And, the event is a lot of fun. For $25, you help a great cause and try out a Valley spa that you may not have the money to ever go to any other time. The Boulders is primetime and gorgeous. Surrounded by rock formations and desert landscape, it was hard not to relax. I got a 20-minute treatment -- I chose a reflexology session -- and there are classes available to attendees. My friend and I went to the self-defense session and an introduction to pilates (my abs are still hurting from this one).

While there, we munched on fruit, sweet treats from one of my favorite bakeries -- Let Them Eat Cake -- and other healthy snacks from the spa. And, when we left, we were treated to a goody bag filled with a full-size bottle of shower gel from Philosophy, a full-size jar of Whish shaving cream (divine) and a load of other samples and coupons.

I will be going to another spa event this summer to benefit Fresh Start. It is in August at the Southwest Institute of the Healing Arts in Tempe. Looks like a lot of fun and they still have spaces. So if you live in the Valley and want to help out a wonderful organization...come and hang out.

A New Perspective on 40

Yesterday, my husband turned 40 (that's him in the photo, riding a bike in Thailand) and his birthday gave me a whole new perspective on what it means to turn another decade older.

When he and I started dating almost 12 years ago, he was still in his 20's on the precipice of 30. I am 7 years younger and so at 21, he seemed much more mature than I and was a wonderful confidant to help me navigate life after college. After we were together for a couple of years, I never thought of our age difference. It was never an issue in how we related to one another -- we are true soulmates in every sense of the word. And, we discovered that many of our other friends were part of the "7 Club." We were normal.

A couple of weeks ago while I was planning his birthday party a.k.a. laser tag extravaganza, it hit me that my husband was going to be 40. "Wow! This is the age that many of us probably begin to think of adults as being old. But, he doesn't look or act 40. Ryan has stayed vibrant and alive. He acts like he is still in his 20s."

After think about this, it struck me. What does it mean to act your age? Who defines what is proper etiquette and activity for a person at a certain age? We certainly have friends who I think act older than they are. They were those people who as soon as they turned 30 or got married, they thought it meant they no longer could have colorful humor, clothing, lives or anything else that points them out as independent-thinking individuals. They have become the Ethan Allen-Banana Republic clones that in one word can only be described as "beige."

Ryan and I are would probably be described as bright. We seize every moment and enjoy it, making us great traveling partners and, I think, down the road, wonderful parents. Now, I think that we have had experiences most people are lucky enough not to have -- such as burying a parent or having cancer -- and maybe that is why we don't stick to conventions. And, while those experiences, created havoc and whirlwind in our lives, they showed us how precious our time together truly is. What would I do without this beautiful man in my life?

So, yesterday, we celebrated 40 years of adventures and the 40 years of adventures to come. We also celebrated the oncology appointment earlier that morning where we learned that Ryan wouldn't have to get radiation treatment for his most recent tumor.

My outlook on 40...it is another decade to reflect on your life thus far and then look toward the future and all it has to hold. I don't think it is as much a big deal as it once was. We live longer now. Many people don't even begin planning their families until they turn 40. It is a wonderful time to be alive and I know that when I turn 40 it will be a rite of passage and that much closer to retirement and a life of leisure.

Just a note...I know I am bias. But, my husband has got to be one of the hottest, most adorable 40-year-old men on the planet. Not too many men his age are just starting to get sprinklings of gray, or for that matter, even have hair that can turn gray. And, how many can say that their husbands are told often that they look like Johnny Depp. I am a lucky girl. I love you, sweetie!

Could I Have Been Anymore Down and Out?

Okay...I was reading my blog from yesterday and I think I see some confetti on my chair left over from the pity party I held in my honor yesterday. Maybe I am being harsh, but I obviously was in a funk yesterday. I can't say that I feel much better today, but maybe not as defeated. Ryan and I spent the afternoon together and all I could feel was how lucky I was to have him in my life. The glory and wonder of him; of us.

I know we will get through everything fine. We are surrounded by so many people who love us. Prayers and thoughts have been inundating us. Perhaps this is why God has no qualms about us experiencing these challenges? He knows we have the character to endure it. Of course, I would much rather be challenged by deciding what I should pack in a small carry-on bag to go to a pacific island or even changing a flat tire would better than this. Give me something I feel prepared for, darn it! Thank you to all of my fantastic friends who help us get through these stints in our lives. I promise, these things will calm down as the year wears on. I understand I have been taking up a lot of your prayers and energies, but at least it doesn't happen like this every year. We seem to be on a five-year cycle. Thanks for putting up with it all. I couldn't do it without you.

On another note...I would like to say Happy Blogiversary to my best friend Rachel! Her blog turned one year yesterday. What a special moment. I remember when it was only a few posts old. It was so cute. And, I remember when she posted that oh-so-lovely photo taken by some umm...photographic genius in a moment of creative nirvana. Ahhh!

Current music obsession -- Fleet Foxes. They are this perfect harmony alt band from Seattle that makes you happy and relaxed all at once. They would be great to listen to while you sit on a grassy knoll by San Francisco Bay, showered in dappled sunlight reading a favorite novel and drinking a lemonade. Their voices are clear and lovely -- almost reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel. They have that 60's edge that makes me want to just shiver with joy. If you haven't heard them yet...take a listen. They won't disappoint.

Til Tuesday or Cancer Won't Beat Us

I can't believe we are doing this again. On Tuesday, Ryan will, for the third time, endure surgery on his face in order to have a tumor removed. When he went through the first surgery, we braced for the worst. After four hours in the operating room and then several weeks of radiation treatments, we were sure we would never hear the word "cancer" again unless talking in the past tense.

But, on New Year's Eve we brought in 2008 with yet another surgery because we had discovered another lump on his face. "It is just something that happens," we were told. No radiation treatment was needed, but it was still grueling. How many times would this happen?

Well, three months after his surgery at the beginning of the year, another lump was found on his face; practically in the same place where he had his tumor removed previously. It was time for a biopsy, doctor's appointments, MRI and the explanation of what needed to be done next. Another surgery and another blip in our lives caused by cancer. It was hard enough to believe we were dealing with cancer so soon in our lives, but dealing with it three times now, we feel like old hats at this point; something I would never feel at the age of 32.

Now we may be veterans of the war against cancer, but it never stops being scary. It never stops worrying me and draining away my husband's beautiful carefree smile. And, perhaps the worse part about dealing with this illness is that others have such a lack of understanding. They don't really know what to say to us or what to do. Sometimes it becomes frustrating beyond end for me. You can see in their faces -- "should I smile and let her know it will all be okay?" Or, "should I give a look of concern and let her know I am thinking of her?" My advice...just say you will be there when we need you and be genuine about the offer. We'll call you when we need a hug, consoling or help with anything.

To be frank, no one can know what we are going through internally together. And, while I will always accept prayers, thoughts and concerns, nothing can take away the fear. Nothing can take away the fact that everytime my husband has cancer I am facing the possibility of the worst; the possibility of life without my best friend, my soulmate, the other half of my being. No one can truly understand that.

So, life tomorrow will go on as it always does with meetings, obligations, complaints about the mundane, pettiness -- all of the things that don't have as much meaning as the rest of my life, but unfortunately take up the majority of my day. I will spend the evening with the person I love the most, taking in every moment, every second with him. Then on Tuesday, I will go into work once again to work half of the day, acting like my whole life is not on the possible verge of shattering.

What else can I do? My concerns aren't the concerns of others...really. We are an egotistical world where me, I, mine reign. It never is more apparent than when you go through something like this on your own. Ryan and I are on a jagged crag above a canyon on our own. Once Tuesday is over, we will be back on terra firma. But, in the meantime, I am so blessed to have Ryan in my life. I can't imagine facing life's challenges and joys without him.

My sweet, you are in my prayers every day. I thank the Lord for the awesome gift he has given me -- you.

A Cultural Experience

I really enjoy reading books that delve into different places and cultures. People and places fascinate me; I absorb this type of information like a sponge (this may be why I enjoy traveling so much). So, when I picked up Londonstani by Gautam Malkani, I couldn't wait to read it. The book takes place in London (my favorite place in the world) and gives the reader insight into an Indian burrow of the city.

What struck me first was the writing. The author writes phonetically in order to give the reader the flavor of the characters' accents. It is almost similar to reading Tom Sawyer except instead we are following the trademark sound of a group of British-Indian players and small-time gangsters. I was drawn into the language and had it swimming in my head long after I finished reading a chapter.

The book paints a rich environment and landscape for its characters and gives you a true look at the way these boys are pushing societal bounds and questioning their parents in order to pass on to becoming men. They question their traditions, culture, and religion while going against the law to make a living.

I won't ruin the ending, but just know that the ending has a fantastic twist to it that made me want to read the book again and re-examine the way I looked at the main character, Jas. Mr. Malkani, whatever critics and other readers may say...you most definitely should not have revealed the twist earlier in the book. It is beyond perfect, right where it is. This is a great book.

On the music front...I have been listening to The Ting Tings. A brit garage pop band, whose album just came stateside. I have been waiting quite impatiently for it to show up for about 3 months when I saw a little bit on them in Q Magazine.

Little Sister

When you were born, you were the angel I stood in awe of. When you opened your wide green eyes, I instantly had a smile upon my face. I thought that mom had given birth to you for my enjoyment and mothering. You were mine.

I could never coo or giggle at you enough. And holding you or dressing you was a treat that made me feel as though there couldn't be anything better in the world.

As we grew up, the four years difference between us left indeliable impressions on us both. You kept me young, my imagination bright and life vivid. How often I think of our treks to the toy store with our amassed allowance-based wealth in our pockets in order to buy a Jem doll kingdom, simple puzzle puzzle or sparkling bubbles (it always depended on how wealthy we were on that visit).

I taught you to appreciate who you are and grasp out beyond your bounds in order to grow and thrive. Question everything in the universe as you grow older. And, you did. Your riotous romp into teenager-adult territory was a proud time for me. Even when you came home at 3 a.m. after a night out with friends, I admired your independence and tenacity as a mother hen would of its chick. Along the way, I also like to think that I showed you how to listen to music and appreciate art. Or, at least I hope I did.

As I explored my life and tries to put myself together in college, a chasm grew between us. I guess it was inevitable. But, we were always there for one another, even when we felt as though we spoke two separate languages. We had a subconscious bond that grounded us. Unspoken love, respect and affection can reach fathoms inside.

When I left for another state, a new life and a future with a spouse and a job, you became my baby sister again. Your visits to the house brought back all of the old ties that bound us together as sisters. We laughed, explored and traveled together. we had fun. I cherish every moment because it was like I was walking with you to the toy store again.

We've continued to grow close even with so much distance. We are learning new things from one another. I am learning from you resilence, strength, and the ability to make life work out when it doesn't go as planned. You have a baby now and he is fighting to stay alive. You are by his side fighting along with him. Your heart broke when you lost the other child you bore. You mourned his loss and then took strength in the baby that is still here. No one's life is perfect, but you make it all work. You are content with the beautiful messes we are all handed day to day.

Little sister, your life and lessons are just now truly beginning. And, it hasn't been easy; not the princess-and-the-pea life I had always dreamed for you. But, I hope that what you have learned from your family helps you through. I hope my love and constancy is a source of strength. And, I hope you see that you have a huge fan, a big sister, who admires you and all you have accomplished...my little sister.

Corron

Your small forehead wrinkles and reminds me of the lines that make the sage brow of an elephant. These care-worn creases, usually reserved for the weathered and old, wrap around your small spherical eyes. Your flapping tongue gives away the fact that the ventilater tube inside your small mouth is irritating and invading. It flicks back and forth, next to the tube and then touchdown on your bottom lip. Your tiny nose is giving shape to your face -- a perfect blend of your mother and father. I look at you and you are a three-dimensional puzzle --there is Andrea's eyes and cheeks, there is Courtney's ears and nose, and do I detect the round chin that is prominent on your grandmother and great-grandmother?

A small miracle that is what you are. One day you will grow into a man, but now we revel in the tufts of curly dark hair on your head and the minute fingernails. We giggle a bit at the feet that have grown to a size that appears too big and out of proportion with your 15-inch baby body. You smile or coo and you melt our hearts. You cover your face or mischievously touch the tape on your face and we laugh at the intelligence and personality you already display.

We came to see you, speaking your name over and over like butterflies departing from our lips. A sacred hush or om because there is religiousness that is appropriate while you are in the hospital and we spend time at the side of your little NICU altar. We are waiting, and praying, for your true life to begin. You will have a life beyond these shiny white walls and sparkling tan floors. We are waiting for you. So many of us.

When you open your eyes it is like watching a Super Nova appear through the lens of Hubble. We are amazed and wonder at the incredible awe and power of nature. Every few minutes we glance away from your angelic face and look at the various monitors around your altar, displaying numbers that tell us of your progress and health. 22. 64. 82. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. All of this information is all once hope and concern. If the numberology tells us your future is bright we are excited and hope for the best, but deep down we still have conern because we have not heard the tension of your angry my-diaper-is-wet cry or the soft belch after a filling meal. We still haven't had the glee of passing you around to the seemingly alien hands of family members. We haven't had the chance to nap with you limp and asleep on our chests.

There is a crowd awaiting your arrival. We all pray and think of your baby skin and can't wait to inhale the sweet scent of your baby breath. We are waiting. And, the day you come home can never be soon enough.

My nephew, Corron, and his twin, Correll, were born at 24 weeks. Both were born so early they had not yet opened their eyes. They both fought for their lives vehemently from when they first exited my sister's womb. Correll lost his battle at two weeks and we mourned a life that was lost and never had the chance to truly begin. Corron continues to fight. He was born 1 pound, 1 ounce and is now 3 pounds, 2 ounces. Every minute I get to see him is a blessing. We hope he will be home in July.