Mentor Profile #3: Andre Dubus

When I moved to St. Louis I was tired of trying to improve myself through books, trying to assimilate so much Christian information, etc. that I took a break from reading Christian books. During this time I picked up a book an ex-girlfriend had given me called, "Meditations from a Movable Chair". It is a book of essays by Andre Dubus.

I have since purchased every book of his I could find.

Some of his short stories have been made into movies. Namely: "In the Bedroom" (Story is called "The Killings"), and "We don't live here anymore" (book is good, but the 2 companion novellas make it fantastic).

There are sub-themes to his literature that involve running, sex, masculinity, marriage, raising children, coming-of-age, etc. But, I think the two things I 'learned' from Andre Dubus were to enjoy literature again; just in and of itself to enjoy reading. And he labeled many small gifts in life as sacraments.

Dubus is the first author I read after being sick last year. He is who I pick up if my only goal is relaxation. I have only found one person who likes him even half as much as I do - my old neighbor who is a professor at Webster U (which makes me feel smart that she likes him).

The other thing he mentored me in was enjoying small things. A sacrament, in this sense, is simply a grace or gift. Running is a gift, having a good conversation (especially with my four year old) is a gift, a good drink is a gift. Peter Devries says it this way, "The greatest gift known to man is the recovery of the commonplace: coffee in the morning and whiskey in the evening without fear." When I am here (in a place of enjoying 'the commonplace') it is partly because of the writing of Andre Dubus.

Mentor Profile #2: Dale and Dave

Since I tackled a huge one with number 1, I thought I would do an easier mentoring moment I had a few years ago for the second post.

When I first moved to STL I rented a little house in South Webster Groves, and it had a nice corner lot. As the Spring rolled around I let the grass get a bit long and was instructed by my landlord to mow it (it was in the lease that he could charge me 40/week if I didn't mow it). So, I mowed it, didn't bag it, and shot a lot of the grass into the street.

Across the street from me lived two older men - both retired, Dave and Dale, next door to one another. They came over to talk with me about the grass in the street. They began with firmness, and then were gentle - I have no idea if I had anything to do with this, or if is just 'how they are'. Dave and Dale explained that it was unacceptable to have grass in the street. This is not how you mow, keep up your yard, or be a neighbor. But, if I wanted to borrow Dave's blower to put the grass back in my yard I was welcome to it. Dave was clear that he was not offering to blow it for me (Dave was probably 70)! They seemed to figure out that I did not understand these things - either instinctively or through previous mentoring.

I remember being annoyed. I had better things to do, I was trying to build a youth ministry, etc. But, I also remember using his blower. Then, going over to borrow some clamps for a table I was making; then having a Nat Light with him in his yard one day (Dave drank Nat Light; he was an old painter and that was just fine with him to get his beer at Aldi's). I only lived there for about a year and a half, but I still see Dave's old work van tooling around sometimes. He had an annoying little dog (really his wife's dog); I don't miss the dog.

It was a good, light lesson - on being a man, taking care of one's yard, listening to older men, and general neighborliness.

Mentor Profile #1: Kris Cooper

I wonder if it is the Enlightenment that makes me think I am supposed to KNOW and/or be able to put into words what I LEARNED from a person... something about that seems to not fit.

Alas, Mr. Cooper is my answer to the question of 'who is your hero?'.

I attended Kanakuk Kamps from 1985-1991. I was at Mr. Cooper's Kamp for the first 5 of those years. He was the director. During that time I lost my right thumb. Well, I didn't 'lose' it. I know exactly where it has been until the day after they finished the job started by the... Well, that's another story isn't it? Anyway, Coops assures me that there was some discussion amongst camp counselors about my missing digit the next year :)

In 1996 I went to work for him as a Counselor in Training. I turned in my application at least 2 months late, without references. I was accepted - this is grace; especially if you know how difficult it is to work for Kanakuk.

I was a total smart ass and therefore had the unenviable job (at the track meets) of 'runner'. You run 2 sprints for every race there is (once there, once back). There are 9 50's and 9 100's. It was a good work out. Coops told me I would be the runner, made sure I understood it was kind of voted on (by the other counselors; did I mention I was a smart ass? I was), but he didn't say it with animosity or even joking in his voice and the amount of respect he commands dictated that the other men were sort of humbled by his announcing it to me - they wanted it, but he could have vetoed it at any point). Men have to deal with men, we have to learn lessons, etc. This was good loving of a young man; gracious, but without pretense. I remember another example from that year, but it served the same point as the 'runner' one.

Next year and the year after I was not challenged or humbled by life or my assignments at camp. In 1999 all of that changed - I was asked to be an 'Uncle' which means you show up for about 10 days, get paid 120 bucks, and work very hard. I was in a bad relationship at the time and felt I should tell him about it - grace. I learned about hard work (friends like Joe Mitchell helped with this also). I repeatedly lost at a game centered around your work gloves and not losing them. When I say repeatedly I mean: I lost my gloves five times. Every time you lose them you have to draw a penalty from the hat (someone steals them really... mine even were taken by another camp, that is how bad I was at the glove game). I got the 'free' pass, which means I only had four penalties.

It did not occur to me to attempt to renege on my penalties. It is worth mentioning these penalties to understand why it was significant that I didn't weasel out of them. I had to wear a Cape for 10 days. I negotiated being able to take the cape off for sports competitions. I had to sleep in a pup tent. Very few know this, but at 6:00 AM the next morning I took my pillow up to a Chapel and got exactly 1 hour of non-dew sleep. I wore 8 Russian Dancing outfits in one day. And, I had to wear a climbing harness all of another day.

It did not occur to me to renege - I probably assumed I would be crucifixed or something if I didn't follow through :) Apparently, it meant a lot that I did my best (with the now-public one hour segment unknown at the time) to keep the penalties. I also started to receive affirmation from some different things at camp; these almost always came from being humbled and finding out later that I persevered well or something.

It was a hard summer, in the way that college students think is hard. At the end of the summer I was offered a strange position called 'trip director'. I told the guy (Joe again) that I would do it if he needed me. I remember learning the lesson, the next day, that people don't ask for things they don't really need. Being a trip director was a blast, it was very hard work in some senses. It was that summer that I learned how much better people learn if they put something together on their own (random, but this is a random-thoughts blog right?).

What does this have to do with Kris Cooper, why he is my hero, and what I learned from him about masculinity? First of all, I'm not in any of these positions if he didn't believe in me enough, and secondly, I am slowly learning - mostly not from words - what it means to be a young man. To follow through, to finish a job, to handle a chain saw - to be a man.

The next year was much harder. My dad and step-mom began divorcing, I was again in a bad relationship, I was very disoriented and lonely. I rode back from a campsite with Coops and talked about where I was - grace from him. It was a lonely Summer. I stole a parking sign for reasons that do not concern you - it was VERY funny to my fellow trip men, and I think Coops thought it was funny too. He was often willing to bend the rules a bit, or laughed with us when we bent them in acceptable ways. The first day of Uncle Week I got to follow Coops around and drag away trees he cut down with his chain saw. Joe White was cutting too, but I felt like I was following Coops. It was a good day, and not just because it seemed anecdotal :) At the end of the day he asked one of our work crew directors if anyone stood out as a hard worker; the guy told him I was the first one who volunteered to hold re-bar while it was sledged into what would later become a pool. He asked about this because there was an "uncle of the day" thing. We decided to forego the award for that day, but Coops later told me that that was what the guy said. I think what is important here is that he just told me; didn't try to pat me on the back with extra words or adverbs or something. He just wanted me to know what this man said, and let it stand as encouragement from one man to another. Here is what I heard from a man I respect, "Good job today."

2001 was my last Summer working at Kanakuk. I remember being sad coming into the Summer - it had been another difficult year, much worse circumstances than the year before in regards to my family. I remember being so tired that the thought of good hard, uncle-week-like-work sounded amazing... And, it was. Kris and his wife were very happy Rachel and I started dating that Summer. When possible they would schedule us together at parties and stuff for the kids. Some other staff members actually held my letters to her up under lights to try and read them... I still find this amazing and funny.

I remember a few things about Coops from this Summer. At the end of 'Uncle Week' girls arrive. We have had our guy time, and sometimes think they are intruding. its dumb I know. Coops was talking to us about them arriving, trying to encourage us in welcoming them. I don't know if you have caught on to this, or if I have mentioned it - he isn't a big talker. He will talk, but isn't one for speeches. So, he is encouraging us. I think I was the first to dissent, but it doesn't matter really, we started being 22 year old guys and whining about them ruining our guy time. He gave us a second, and then, without looking up, repeated himself about the importance of encouraging them. Same tone of voice, same words. I have NEVER seen a group of stupid young men quiet down so fast and look so guilt-stricken. We were mortified that our hero and friend had to repeat himself because we were joking around. He just commands that kind of respect. I don't think our guilt lasted either - because we knew he wasn't mad. We just knew we needed to change the way we were thinking about the girls coming, we changed immediately. Because he repeated himself.

I remember a few other stories from my last summer - of him coming alongside some of the most obnoxious people I knew, of fighting for men's hearts when they did incredibly dumb things. But the last story is about me - because this is my blog! The last summer I worked at camp I stopped being a director and went back to being a 'regular' counselor. There were a lot of reasons for this, but essentially I wanted to. One night we were playing a very large and elaborate game of Capture the Flag, and about 6 minutes into it I realized my cabin only had defensive capabilities. I decided to change that by using every fire extinguisher I could find in defense of my 13 year old boys - and because I was tired of these rules that enabled me to get hit by water balloons every four minutes.

I also played "Pour Some Sugar on me" in a skit... that was just dumb, this is a conservative, evangelical camp!

Anyway, back to the extinguishers: the 'Safety Officer' wrote me a ticket for taking my cabin up a slide that night (you're supposed to go down, as we tell Caroline). I asked him about the Extinguishers and he said I would have to talk to Coops. This delighted me because 1 - it was funny, 2 - I knew Coops well enough to have some idea of how this would go. Maybe a week later I asked him if we needed to talk about it. He said, "what do you think that I think?" I said, "I think you would have done something similar in my shoes." He said, "That's probably right..." Or something like that.

It has been a few years since I have seen Kris Cooper. I follow his oldest son on Twitter. I assume word has gotten back to him that I am a pastor, I know some of his staff knew I was sick. He has 6 children and I learned from him as a father and a husband. He and his wife have a special whistle if they see each other but are too far away to chat - its awesome. He was on a panel once on marriage, and the only thing I remember him saying when someone forced the mic on him was, "Give... give.. give..." then he handed the mic to the girl next to him. Then, he took it back and said, "And give".

Those kinds of stories are not the point though. I remember that he said that not because it was powerful or even because I agree (irrelevant); I remember that he said that because of who he is

I used to say that Kris Cooper lives the Gospel that the Apostle Paul wrote about. I think that that is still true. But, I think what actually happened is that I grew up and became a man under Kris Cooper's watch. I can talk about the Bible, funny stories, or how he is with his kids for many more pages (stories keep coming to mind). But, I'm not going to. I'm just going to say one more thing: we aren't close. We weren't close when I worked there. But, I still grew up and became a man under his watch. I doubt he will read this, but if anyone at Kamp does read it - tell him I said thanks.

Band of Brothers

I have not yet seen Band of Brothers - as I write this episode 3 is ending. It didn't grab me like I thought it would, but is certainly growing on me.

This past weekend I had the privilege (?) of standing in front of Presbytery to finish the testing part of ordination. I won't bore you with the details - suffice to say it was semi-grueling, and my first question from the floor was about snake handlers at the end of Mark.

The beginning of the exam (the 5th of 5) asks you to share some of your story. Afterward a friend mentioned that there have been a lot of men in my life. So, I will (again) attempt to revive my blog in an attempt to think - and therefore appreciate - what these people (mainly men, but not exclusively) have meant to me as I look to turn 33 in a few weeks.

Any thoughts on categories?

Peers that I clearly learned from

Slightly-less-than-superhero-figures-like-Kris-Cooper

Family?

Authors?

Specific Mentors

Teachers who took some extra time

Sports Mentors?

Academic Mentors?

Pastor Mentors?

Men who probably wanted to beat me senseless but didn't (this list could overlap with others)?

I Love Pixar

Therefore, this is in honor of my wife... Notice they stole my joke (not like it is a new joke) to name a dog with a human name. Ron would like Dug. If we got another dog we were going to name it Greg or Doug.

This Youtube Clip left out one of our favorite lines, "I can see why you would think that because I said it."

brush

I like being married. Its weird and funny. Much harder than I thought, better than I thought, but the definition of 'better' might be different than I would have thought when single...

On Sunday in church Rachel sighed... it sounded like a "I'm mildly tired, not unhappy... just not feeling like going running" kind of a sigh (probably should have hyphenated that). I almost said to her, in sheer reaction, "You're right, we should go to Chipotle after church". I didn't. No more than 2 minutes later she whispered to me, "I was thinking Chipotle?" It was funny to me.

A few weeks ago we had a conversation that I wanted her to blog about, and she politely declined. I found the conversation funny so I will attempt to recreate it here.

Piece of information you need to know to understand: my hair is pretty thick, and short enough that most days I don't do anything to it. Literally: anything.

Rachel: So, is it weird that you never have to brush your hair?

Matt: ...

Rachel: It doesn't really occur to you does it? That most people brush their hair, and/or have to do things to it before they leave the house.

Matt: Not really.

Rachel: You used to brush it right?

Matt: Yeah, I think so. (In My head: that would be high school? Junior High?)

Rachel: But, you used to... so you have hair brushes right?

Matt: ... (gazing at her, not really smiling, but letting her piece it together)

Rachel: So, you did have them right?

Matt: right.

Rachel: Well, where are they now? The brushes?

Matt: ... (wait for it)

Rachel: You have no idea where they are, right? Even though there was a time in your life where you employed them?

Matt: Right. (In my head I am thinking that the last time I brushed my hair would have been at 29th and peoria in Tulsa. Last time I lived there would have been high school... no telling where any brushes are I guess...)

What I find interesting about marriage is that I can communicate so much with my wife, and yet she will never really understand what it takes for me (because the answer is: 'nothing it just happens') to have no idea where my hair brushes are. Because she doesn't lose things (although, when she does it stresses her out a lot more than it does me... because I lose things all the time). So - she understands so much without me having to say it, and yet my ability (let's just keep calling it an ability okay?) to lose things is still somewhat amazing to her.

I find that interesting. And funny.

Air

I think I remember to breathe more now than I used to. I don't mean I used to not breathe, I mean I used to not breathe. Like, stop and take a breath breaths.

I'm posting this picture because I love my kids and I love my city. We went to the Confection Show at the Botanic Gardens on Saturday (you can see how much my kids liked the confections!), and ended up walking outside for awhile because it was just warm enough.

I still struggle with rhythms at home being so different than rhythms at work (and I have a people oriented job, I can't imagine what a pure results-driven job is like to come home from!) Meaning: it isn't easy to come home and just sit on the floor without checking my email and stuff, but is it is a good struggle - to sit and play, to sit and watch (when they are happily playing or reading). I don't know that I am better at reflection, but I am certainly more interested in it.

I don't know that I am a better father, but I am more interested in my kids. No, that isn't the right word. I am better able (slightly) to take a breath and remember how important they are. I think stuff still bugs me, and my movement from anxiety, to anger, to entitled "If I were in charge of the whole world it would run smoother" - thinking, is the same... But, I transition through it faster. This actually overlaps with my loathing of 270 - which many of you have assured me you share with me.

I don't know if my perspective is different. I just looked up perspective on my computer, and I was thinking of the second definition (which is about the way you see things colloquially), but the first definition is this:

1 the art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from a particular point [as adj. ] : a perspective drawing. See also linear perspective and aerial perspective .

In light of this, I do not think my perspective is different. I don't see the world differently. But, I believe more strongly in what I believed before I was sick. That kind of sounds arrogant... I don't mean to, I just don't know that I see the world differently as much as I am interested in looking longer. Or something.

Does this make any sense?

Thoughts?

Discuss...

B1Y

So, today is/was my day off and I decided to shoot some baskets at the Rec. Center. As I was working out I decided that I should call my workout B41Y - B for basketball, 41 minutes for about how long I did it (really an hour, but I sat down once and shot about 60 free throws). The Y is for "Why the Hell would you do P90X when you could do B41Y?", but Rachel says the 90 is for how many days. So: B1Y is my workout; sounds more like a disease...

I enjoyed it. I enjoyed my kids a lot today - they are beautiful and funny and weird.

I sat at the landing of the stairs on the way to the playroom before bed, they threw things at me, I threw them back. It was all pretty fun until Julia threw a stroller. Seriously. No one was injured, but seriously? There were so many things in between the felt blocks and the plastic stroller. Oh well. I guess she threw some large stuffed animals as a warning first.

Rachel and I watched Frozen River. it just reminded me that movies make me a lot more tense than they used to. Redemption is strange in this movie, light enough to make you think it is believable, but as you go the fridge (google "Fridge logic", apparently it is an industry term) you think, "Nah.... but I liked it".

Then, I finished Hurt Locker. I don't know how I felt about it. Mainly because I was talking with an Iraq vet once when some guys asked him if he had seen it. How come people don't ask me if I have seen this or that movie about people who had cancer? Then ask, "I just wonder what you thought of it and if you thought it was realistic?" His response was light and awesome, "Well, do they just sit around for 90% of the time and then the other 10% is so crazy you can't even figure out how to talk about it? If that is the movie, seems like it would be boring, but realistic."

I'm being harsh, but not anecdotally. I am not mad at those guys; no one who hasn't been knows how to ask but we're all wondering. But, my friend the veteran (the one whose fault it is that I am reflecting on why/how/where I am different) compared my sickness with his being in Iraq. I don't really see the parallels. I mean I do, but I don't. They seem unnecessary.

How am I different? Movies are less important. I still enjoy them. My Valentine's Day Gift was a card to watch movies, and I am excited - especially for Iron Man II. A Friend said that while I am (was) sick lesser affections would fade. He was correct. They are back; but dim.

Perspective still seems shallow to me. I don't know that seeing Hurt Locker made me more or less empathetic to my friend. I'm just supposed to be empathetic (right? sympathetic would be if I could relate?).

I was trying to explain to the lady cutting my hair that my hair used to stick up. She said that people's hair changes every seven years. I let it go. She did a good job. If I had told her about how chemo kills all cells which make new cells fast she might have messed up my now-well-blended sides.

:)

2 Things I have learned about myself

At least part of the point of continuing to blog is to think, pray, and own the things about me that are different. If you think this is a bad plan you can blame Jeremy; it was essentially his idea.

1. I don't like 270 anymore. This might not be a post-cancer thing. If possible, I do not get on to 270. For instance, the drive to Seminary (at least from our old house, which you should buy) is shorter if you take 44 to 270. But, I don't anymore. Laura showed me the way up Rock Hill to McKnight (My wife also used this way when she worked at the hospital), and I just liked it better. The speed was easier to navigate, less inducing, a rhythm I could get on board with. I prefer five more minutes in the car to getting there faster but going from 70 to 9 intermittently.

2. I think I am less interested in perspective. This has been growing in me in some ways for a long time - like when people come back from Missions trips and their main thing is "how much they have here and how thankful they are". I think that that is true, and a good thing to learn but I don't think a change of perspective changes people. In this case I used to try and relate to people, or semi-consciously compare what I had been through with what they are going through/been through. I didn't mean to do it then, and now I consciously enjoy not trying to do it - I try to listen, be present, etc.

One of the ways this effects me is that in a lot of movies and media people have cancer. It is the disease of choice for the sick or dying person oftentimes. This makes avoiding it socially very difficult. I realized this when I was watching Up in the Air with a friend who is divorced: divorce is everywhere. My sister, who lost her father when she was 1, pointed out to me that fathers are everywhere.

I don't think there is a BIG TRUTH here. I am just sifting through little differences in me, and thinking about them.

The inappropriate movie quote after the media paragraph is from the second scene in Naked Gun, where Leslie Nielsen says, "Everywhere I go I see things that remind me of her."





Thoughts?

Discuss...

Just a couple of quotes

HIghlights from today with my girls.

CKB, "Daddy, you should drink a beer. I will open it for you." (this is because she found the opener and asked what it was for this morning... this conversation is as I am cooking dinner). She opens the beer. "Now you may drink it." I complied.

CKB, "Daddy, I would like to wear my summer shirt - the one with butterflies, and flowers, and all of those beautiful things on it."

CKB, "Daddy, I would like to put on my Fairy Princess Costume so that I will look special for God."

CKB (after every time I put Julia to bed), "Daddy, I want another little sister."

The Magic House was also a lot of fun. Julia doesn't say a ton, but we had a ball today also. She loves Clifford.

Also found out I passed my ordination written tests today. Good feeling, thought I was going to have to sit down I was so relieved. Orals are in April.

As one my my prof's used to say, "I hope you have a good weekend, and a good Lord's Day."

Julie and Julia

Judge me all you want, but I loved this movie.

It went about 20 minutes longer than my 80's-styled desire for a 91 minute movie with songs written just for that movie "Fletch is workin' overtime.... bit by bit..." Julie and Julia was funny, cute, the marriages were very real - there was some real life disappointment, but they didn't have to dwell on it or pretend it didn't affect them.

Plus, I rented it for free. that is right: insideredbox.com. Thanks Todd Johnson.

So, I have 3 minutes to finish this blog, but I did want to throw it up there (up here?). Julie and Julia inspired me. I know there are many of you that like my blog (you have pointed this out by sometimes mentioning you don't like when I write on the church blog... makes me laugh). My goal then, is to write. The sub-goal is for me to learn how I am changed. I was chatting with a friend the other night who was in Iraq, and he was encouraging me to own how I am different post-sickness. This has apparently been a helpful way for him to reflect - I was humbled that he would equate my sickness with war; very humbled. Rachel says it is one of the only things that has happened to me that I am unable to talk about without blanching... Chemotherapy specifically.

This will continue to be a random thoughts blog. I will write about movies, I will try to keep up my old church-correspondence with Bob Dillon, but my underlying post-Julie and Julia goal is to pay attention to how I am different.

As Chandler says to Monica when they realize they will have twins (through adoption), in response to Monica pointing out that he is panicking, "Join me, won't you!?"

I didn't realize I was weird about hair

So, I have to run an Art Gallery in four minutes, but I have been meaning to blog.

I will list for brevity and clarity.

1. My facial hair is thinning. Meaning: there are spots on my chin and mustache that just don't have hair anymore... it grew back, then it decided it wasn't worth the effort apparently.

2. My hair came back flat, thin, and a bit wavy, maybe even a little darker. I Got used to it, loved not having to do anything to it, found it weird that it didn't stick up for the first time in 32 years (except for my long hair phase... )

3. Then, I got it cut a few days back and it seems to be back to sticking up again... maybe with a bit less flair (I don't like to talk about my flair), but it seems to be sticking up again.

4. Hair I could have lost well: ears, nose, chest.

Off to the Gallery, join us for a fun, affordable, and lively show.

HA! not my blog...

that link was NOT my blog... hilarious. i don't think i have much in common with that person.

blazerfamily.blogspot.com

there you go.

happy monday everyone!

rachel

Leaves

Our family had dinner with a number of friends on Saturday Night and we all spent some time talking about what we were thankful for.

I thought my wife had the most interesting/unique thought: she is thankful for St. Louis. She had a number of reasons, and even has her own blog. Maybe that should be her next writing topic.

I went next to last. I thought of a lot of things I am not thankful for. I am not thankful for my doctor's appointment tomorrow. Maybe I should be. I am not thankful for the familiarity of the seventh floor of Barnes Jewish Hospital. I am not thankful for the fact that we currently own two houses (although we certainly put ourselves in this spot). Do I need to say I am not thankful for Cancer? Probably not...

I am thankful for my kids. On Saturday we repeatedly got dirty playing in the leaves. I am thankful that I just sit and watch my kids more than I used to. I don't think I sucked at it before, but I didn't enjoy it like I do now. They are so beautiful, so destructive, so funny, so temperamental. A good speaker I have heard a few times states that of 100 people interviewed who were over 95 they almost inevitably came to 3 conclusions about what they wished they had done differently: risked more, reflected more, and done more for their legacy. This year has been about growing in the second one... which probably affects the 3rd one. And, the first one if you're operating with a good set of definitions.

I am also thankful for my wife, who I learned a lot about this year. But, when I got to that point of the "I am thankful for toast" I started crying and rambling.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Hopefully I will remember to tell you, the faithful readers, how it went. If you feel like praying I would appreciate it.

PS - I fixed the link...

"Let's Kill Batman and have him for dinner"

This is what Caroline said today as we returned from picking up Ron (our dog) at the groomer. It has been since the mid-Spring since he has been groomed. (the picture is the sunset on Friday Afternoon, the second one is the sunset on Saturday afternoon)

Batman is our cat.

I was unable to determine where she developed/heard the idea that we could 1. Kill things. 2. Kill our household pets. 3. Then eat them for dinner.

The point of this story: I like hanging out with my girls, they are fun and funny. The can also scream piercingly.

I promised my old friend Shelley that I would update my blog. That was yesterday. Tomorrow I have a CT Scan early in the morning, and then I will meet with Dr. Ridiculous next week. For those of you that don't know a CT Scan involves me drinking radioactive fluid, then being shot with radiation (not like the kind that reduces tumors in size). This is to determine whether or not I am sick. You're picking up the irony right?

I just looked up CT Scans on Wikipedia. It says that scans are going up in two demographics: adults and children. Who is left out exactly? Don't answer that.

In honor of my scan and the fact that I cannot eat/drink tomorrow morning (except for my iodine shake) I overate tonight. It was a lot less fun than I thought it would be. But, it was Spaghetti with grass-fed beef.

I have a beer stein that reads, "I kicked Cancer's butt". I like drinking from it because I appreciate the sentiment and I really appreciate the friend who gave it. I don't feel like I kicked cancer's butt.

When I drive back from the hospital tomorrow I will pass a billboard for another hospital that says, "Patients love us, cancer fears us." I do not like the billboard. I don't think it is true, I think it is kind of arrogant, but mostly I just don't like it. Unfortunately it is pretty bright.

I am working full time now and enjoying it. Parts of my job are still vague. My hair is strangely interested in laying down for the first time in my life, and it is a bit darker. Who knows if it will stay this way, but I don't ever spend time messing with it.

What did I learn from cancer? I don't know. I still don't know. I still don't like thinking about it. I still wonder how much Caroline remembers; she has a pretty good memory. What I tell people is, "What I thought about sickness and suffering before getting sick served me very well..." I still believe that. It has not really been added to. It doesn't seem like the Bible is interested in distinguishing between sickness/suffering; they aren't interchangeable but that just aren't talked about the way we talk about them today. Generally, they are assumed.

That's all I've got for the personal blog... Go read Rachel's, she is a better writer, quite profound, and puts up the greatest pictures of our kids ever...

Thanks for your friendships, thoughts, prayers, etc.

It is the little things

Many people have enjoyed telling me that my hair might grow back differently. I am not sure why this puts me off, but it kind of does. Rachel is surprised that it does.

You didn't really think I didn't know about the hair right? Was this 'the thing' you knew about Chemotherapy? Not a big deal either way. Seriously. My hair is back: same color, very thick, but finer. Which means, as Fabbio would say, Ba ba ba ba ba ba baaaaaaa: it lays down. My hair usually won't lay down until it is several inches long. It it nice that it lays down, I like it better than I did.

As I think about 2009 and this season of sickness, 2 surgeries, and cancer I don't know that I have big answers when people ask big questions. My typical answer is that the things I thought about sickness/suffering before this season served me well while I was sick.

However, I'm writing today to talk about some of the little things. Some are connected with the side effects of Chemotherapy, and some not. For instance, during week 3 (I think) a nurse was giving me Bleomycin (the 2nd worse drug, or 2nd best depending on how you look at it). She mentioned, without making eye contact, that I could never scuba dive again. I don't Scuba dive really. I have done something near it maybe 3 times and don't want to get certified. But, she had just passed her Chemotherapy Board Thing for Nurses and remembered that those who get B can't scuba dive (or get pure oxygen if I am hospitalized again). It bugged me. Scuba Diving is just a little thing, but who is she to take that away from me? What is this B (incidentally, "B" is the kind of Chemo Lance turned down because it effects your lungs) and when did it receive such power over my underwater endeavors?

Well, I'm working through my issues with all of these questions and wanted to share some little things about today.

I can now do push ups. Again, a little thing. I don't do a lot of push ups anyway, but since my March surgery (and then subsequent May surgery) I have been unable because of pain in my abdomen. Women who have had a c-section know what I'm talking about. I tried to do some last week and could not. Now I can.

I had a cigar today as I mowed the lawn. I did not use the little cigar holder mom got me for the lawn mower because it is not as efficient as it claims. Nevertheless I had one. Cigars seemed abhorrent when I was sick (and I wasn't allowed... the "B" again). It was a pleasant cigar, cheap.

I had two beers today. One after mowing the lawn, and one after riding our stationary bike (with Rachel makes me ride in the Storage Room because she is crazy about these flecks on our basement floor). Beer sounded awful to me when I was sick. I had one (thanks Ty), and it didn't taste good. Today, they tasted amazing. One was a Schlafly Pilsner, and one a New Belgium (courtesy of my mother in law, thanks Shirley).

I finished Donald Miller's New Book today. When I was sick I couldn't read. I don't know how to explain, and don't particularly want to but my desire to read went south. I only read when I had to for class.

I am about to go shave. When I have time (like on Saturday), shaving is a very relaxing thing for me. I wash my face, rub hot water, put on the cream, etc. When I was sick, I obviously didn't have the need to shave (if you didn't notice, I only held on to my arm and eye-brow hair). It sort of made me doubly sad. Now, my facial hair grows and I need to shave it. A strange, but welcome blessing.

As I finish shaving I will play with my girls the rest of the day. This is not little a little thing, and I did not stop playing with them when I was sick. I was unable sometimes, but that desire did not fade. Nevertheless, I am so happy to have renewed energy to be with them.

I usually don't blog/email/get on line on Saturday, as it is my Sabbath. But, I felt moved by the number of little things that have crept back into my life. I hope and pray that you have a good weekend, and a good Lord's day tomorrow. I hope there are little things that you enjoy that you have time for today.

-Matt

Why I love Office Space

I love it because Mondays are hard.

I want to get up and be spiritual, but I am thinking about my week. So, i pray some, then organize some, then start thinking through the week... And i have only just begun to drink coffee.

I got to hang out with Julia for about an hour in between Caroline getting dropped off for school and my attempts to begin my work week (I should probably focus on the fact that Sunday is supposed to be the first day...). Hanging out with Julia made it even harder because she is just easy and fun. And, when Caroline is not around she has the funniest sneaky smile on her face all the time. "I can play on Caroline's bed" (Is what I think it means), "I can play with Caroline's fairies", "I can get out as many of Caroline's stuffed animals as I want... And I don't even want more than four, but that is more than I usually get."

Anyway, it isn't the easiest of days to get my head or heart around. I couldn't even finish buying plane tickets because the swing in the prices between Monday and Wed. of Thanksgiving threw me off too much... Hilarious.

Anyway, while we all meditate on the annoying-ness of Mondays: here are some pictures of Caroline that I took while she was "flying". And, the explanation of why my basketball didn't make it to my basketball game on Sunday Afternoon.

A Better Picture of Simon

See why I wanted just Julia? Simon is good looking, but Julia is down right awesome.

This picture is posted in honor of Simon, who does love our girls a lot. They mostly love him :)

How do we play well? For me it simply means looking at my girls when I am with them, listening to them when they talk, and trying to not think about work, my next meeting, or what I'm going to do when they are napping. I want to be a father who plays well. So, in the Spirit of that I let Caroline play in this fountain for 30 minutes yesterday as we were leaving the zoo. I had to take her down after she wouldn't stop splashing Tyler. I'm pretty sure Tyler would not have been allowed on the fountain, except that his dad didn't know how to equitably say "no" when a 3 year old girl was on top of this fountain. I don't know if you can tell, but it is about four feet high.

The result: Caroline became very wet. The reason that is okay: she might have already been wet.

My brother said keep a running list of questions, Anna said post pictures, Simon whined that he got cut out (or, I made Julia the center of the picture...). I suppose I am trying to keep everyone happy. I do like blogging. If you follow me on Twitter/FB you would also see that I am finally happy with the thickness of my hair...

Enough. As my favorite professor used to say, "Have a good weekend, and a good Lord's Day." Even if you don't think he was LORD, it is still cool that for absolutely no astronomical reason we observe a 7 day week. Must be some other compelling reason. At any rate, have a good weekend.

Steak N Shake Date

So, I liked Steak N Shake a lot in college and I don't know why.

But, I took my daughters the other day and they loved it as far as I could tell.

I like the idea of my blog, but don't know how to proceed. First it was a random thoughts blog. Then, it was co-authored by my wife as we sought to inform people about my sickness (which is over by the way).

What do we do now?

Thoughts???

Discuss...