Wednesday, June 2, 2010

When Doves Cry and Where Angels Fly

There are two tawny speckled doves that often come to the feeder in my front yard. They are always together. They look out for each other. I like to listen to them call to each other. Coo coo. I often wonder where they go when they aren't here with me. Where do the birds go? Do they worry about things?

There are three hummingbirds that came today in the backyard, sucking nectar from purple and fuchsia sprays. Where do they go? Do they worry?

I've been wearing my lavendar scarf quite a bit, wrapped and braided around my head, brown guess shades, pink lipstick. They call me Diva when I walk into the Cancer Center to get my shot. I had a little cleavage going today. Who said bald can't be sexy? A pharmaceutical rep (can spot em a mile away) was checking me out. I could tell he felt slightly guilty lusting after a chemo patient.

This is my new look. and I am working it people.

Where do the birds go? Why do they come back? I'm glad they do. The doves know me. If I come outside quietly, they let me stand near and don't fly away. They know I am the one that put the fountain in the yard and the feeder in the tree. They know me.

I have always liked the number 17. I don't know why. Do you have a favorite number?

I came across some old doodles in my journal. Wedding cakes and butterflies, lady bugs and hearts. Flourishes and daisies, stars and dragonflies. Maybe I should have been a fairy or a nymph with these things that occupy my mind. Nymph. That's my ringtone.

I have been thinking many times during the day of the angels all around me. I keep meaning to tell you about my Mother's Day this year. Husband did a very kind and thoughtful thing. All during Mother's Day, I kept receiving photo texts from family and friends, all wearing the pink ribbon pin. It was adorable. Families together, all with pins on. Little girls with pins on. Midge with her pin on. It was wonderful. Husband had sent out a letter to all in the week prior to Mother's Day, with pins included, asking them to put them on for me, and send photos to me on Mother's Day. It felt great.

Another angel I don't even know, she goes to church with my Dad and his wife, knitted me a hot pink blanket that looks like cotton candy, to take with me to chemo. Thank you angel.

There are angels who have hugged me, angels who have given me scarves and fuzzy socks, bracelets and tote bags and candles and jammies. Angels who have given me sparkly hoop earrings, cards in the mail, texts every day.

Angels where I swim, who circled me in the pool when I was still swimming prior to my surgeries. My friend, an older lady said "I'd like you to meet my other friends." They all circled me in the pool and introduced themselves, every single one a cancer survivor. I felt as if I was being baptized and thought for sure a dove would light on me. Something did, my heart was lighter.

There are the angels who took care of me at the hospital, nurses and surgeons and radiologists and anesthesiologists, who treated me with such kindness, respect, humor and tenderness.

There are the angels at the cancer center, who give me my shots, make my appointments, and give me chemo. They call me diva and precious and all sorts of things that make you feel like a million bucks. And don't forget my Kitty and my Vonda and my Good Witch.

There are the angels from work, who text and email and take me to lunch and send me cards. The ones who text me inspiring little loving messages, at all hours. They take me to lunch and I squander the afternoon in their lovely company and I forget awhile. and did you know my putting has potential?

There are the parents from the kids' school, band parents, who know my email because of band activities, and as the word has spread about me, they email offers of help and food and hope and good thoughts.

There are the boys that live in this house - husband, sons and brother. Doing their best to take care of me and look after me and watch me to see if I am really doing ok. Nothing like a hot waffle with sour cream and blackberry jam. That's how I like to eat them. I am part swedish. not.

There are the angel dogs who live in this house. Two sisters we adopted almost ten years ago. and their newest sister, Grandma's little mutt we inherited. The big dogs often flank my bed. The little one wants to be in it on top of me. They know I am Mommy. They know something isn't quite right with Mommy. They also look at me with the poor baby look and with faces that say "we love you mommy, what's da matter, what can we do?"

Old friends, new friends. Folks at the grocery store and at the bank.

There are legions of angels, two doves, three hummingbirds, and three dogs all around me.

Don't worry, ok?

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me.


Way up here, where good is happening,

and doves and angels are everywhere.

2 comments:

masonmft said...

I am glad I am a night owl so I can be blessed with your words before I go to bed. Thanks Angel. Love You

writergirldreams said...

Hey Ann, you talkin to me? Hey girl. Hey. You are the angel, always leaving morsels here for me. I eat them in my bed and dip them in my tea leaving crumbs of you everywhere like shortbread. Wow that was some text message your hubby sent me, about this thing with me inspiring him to love u better. Damn. I coulda planted a sloppy one on him. Don't tell. The silver lining is filled with gold.
love u ann. love u.

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