The Winds of March

The wind chimes say it all; the weather is unsettled and angry.  The wind sweeps down from the north and west, straight off the Canadian prairies, still locked in the grip of winter and blast the wind chimes, setting them to clanking. No gentle spring breeze here, coaxing music from the air. Today the wind bullies the chimes, bullies us all, sending the crows skidding sideways downwind. Spring seems pretty far away tonight.  Today for the first time this year, I saw cumulus clouds, summer clouds, floating in the blue sky above the ice on Lake Bemidji. Summer didn't seem so far away then but now... gray wooly clouds rage across the sky and gentle blue of the afternoon and the promise of spring, are gone.

Here at Whiskey Jack Flats things are unsettled too. Yes, it has been two and a half weeks since my last chemo and yes, my port is out but the various side effects have not diminished much. The soles of my feet are still mostly numb. The chemo-acne on my back, or bacne, as Karen calls it, must be drying up some if the spots on my chest are any indication. She says she can see a reduction in the swelling of my face and neck though I have a hard time seeing much of a change there. We are hopeful that some of the other things, like zero testosterone, will begin to turn around soon. I am waiting, impatiently, for the changes to occur.

Karen is having a difficult time this week. I was not the picture of excitement when the port came out. Yes, it is an important milestone but the side effects skew my perception of when the process will be over, and that threw Karen for a loop. Plus, she is struggling with some tension at work surrounding her leaving for Anderson's Fabric in Blackduck.  The gentle cumulus clouds in her life have changed to cold gray billows that block the sun.

Perhaps we just feel like we have had enough cloudy weather for the past ten months. Perhaps, in spite of knowing better, we find it easier to be like the wind that is trying to rip the shingles off the roof; unsettled and angry. This is not our natural state. We are trying to be upbeat, to make plans for summer, to give consideration to a future of fun and sun and friends and family. It's just that some days it is harder to find the light, to find the smile and believe in hope or anything good at all. Sometimes we just need to hunker down and wait for the ill winds to blow themselves out, knowing the sun will shine again. And sometimes the waiting is the most difficult thing of all.

Peace and love to you all.
Mike