I think winter gets a bad rap. Yes, it is cold and gray and dark by 5.30pm and more gray and really, really cold at times. Ok, maybe the bad rap is legitimate. But maybe winter is misunderstood. I love the snow. Growing up, school snow days were very rare. But when they happened, it was magical. For an actual snow day in a suburb of Chicago, we had to have gotten dumped on by snow. Literally. I would watch from the living room window, my knees on the “good” pink chairs we were not allowed to use, as the snow plow moved through our cul-de-sac. I always hoped our front curb would get the biggest pile so I could make a fort or a tunnel. I would bundle up in my snow gear and be outside for hours. Digging and scraping and shoveling. Sweating but cold. Only going inside to swap out my gloves and put my wet gloves on the heat register next to the front door. I was committed to creating my winter wonderland. A favorite activity was ice skating on the retention pond several streets over. I couldn’t tell you where the ice skates came from in our garage, but we had them. I would lace up these dusty, cobweb-filled navy figure skates and do my best to stand and skate. Often those two things were not synonymous. But enough kids would be ice skating for some game to be played like tag or freeze tag. It was enjoyable even with the freshly-earned bruises. Ice skating was fun but nothing could beat sledding at Camp Manitoqua. We would take our tan and brown inflatable donut sleds and find some great hills to fly down. We had the wooden sled with the metal rails but I could not go as fast on that as the donut inflatable. I remember we were at some church event (I mean, when weren’t we? We were the Pastor’s kids). My older sister Becky and I found a great hill. She would lay down on the inflatable donut and I would run, jump on top and we would catapult down the hill. We did this to the point where adults had to tell us to stop because it was getting dark and seeing and avoiding all the trees was becoming a problem. Even today, I love taking the kids sledding. The other week we went sledding with friends several times. I may not slide on my stomach because of Babs but I’ll race anyone while sitting on my butt. Nothing makes me happier than one of my kids asking me to sled down the hill with them. 

Being outside during a snow storm, I observe a few things. Mother Nature is white and beautiful and eerily quiet. I feel the calm. While I hate the gray and suffer with seasonal depression from it, I have a newfound appreciation for the winter season. Winter is bare, colors are muted, trees are naked because all the energy is at the root. In the center. And same can apply to us humans. Winter can be an opportunity to work through discomfort. A season to get curious and work to understand where the discomfort is stemming from. (I think my therapist would be so proud of me!) Because until you move through traumas and discomfort from within, you will not be able to fully enjoy spring and growth due to stagnation. Inner work is no joke. It is raw. And hard. Pretty sure I go through a box of kleenex every time I meet with my therapist. But better out than stuffing it in. And while I absolutely, one thousand percent dislike this season of my life, I have been allowed to work through a lot of pain and frustration and anger that has been sitting inside of me for decades. We all have our own trials. We’re human. Pain is not a competition, but a means through which we can gain empathy, offer support and show togetherness. I think that is one aspect by which I don’t know how to respond to others. When people say their pain or issue isn’t like having cancer. No, it probably isn’t but that does not negate ones own pain or struggle. It could always be worse and it could always be better. But making things relative doesn’t help. Kinda like my platonic relationship with Babs. It could go better. The amount of times, in the middle of the night, I have missed the toilet while emptying her is embarrassing. Shit. Literally. Clearly, I have not figured it all out. Just sharing what I am learning in my cancer journey. Speaking of cancer, I had my second scope under anesthesia today. According to my surgeon it went well and he was confident an end of February date to put me back together would happen. Yay! I told him not to give me false hope but he doesn’t. He’s cocky and confident in his abilities and that gives me hope that my reattachment will happen sooner than later. I still have a connection test (my poop test) and maybe a couple other things but we are checking things off!

Liz