27 years on the 27th

Saturday - September 28, 2013

Taking a lesson planning break to enjoy a crisp glorious day and to remember our wonderful anniversary celebration last night:  27 years.  I walked down to Sausalito and met Joe as he came off the ferry from work.  We celebrated at Scoma's, sitting outside in the perfect weather, looking at Angel Island and the city in the day's golden last light, watching the seals and that perky, red-nosed Margaret Wise Brown-esque dinner cruise pass by, just soaking in a laid back delicious meal ...  Then we walked back up to our perch on the hill.  Life is good :)

... AND I'm sleeping better!

Sunrises over the Bay

Sunday - September 22, 2013

Another glorious early morning in Sausalito.  Reds and oranges herald the first sunrise of autumn, the bay is glassy calm, the superyachts are lit up just below our perch on Hurricane Gulch, and that full fabulous fall moon is bathing our bed in bright moonlight.  But how did I become an early riser?  Jonathan has said that I am still functioning on East Coast time and that comment may contain a grain of truth.  Even on the weekends, I am generally up before dawn and my weekday work schedule and commute mean that I have the chance to enjoy a spectacular sun rise as I travel north up the 101.  Waking to the alarm is a rare treat.

I don't think I ever re-established my deep-slumber, truly Olympian sleeping ability after being stricken by that lymphoma-induced migraine on 12/28/11.  Slicing horrible pain (I can never forget how bad it was) robbed me of sleep, then steroids first stole away my deep REMs, followed by the thieving chemo, mucositis, and hospital interruptions.  But what about those early mornings and brief slumbers when I was healthy and back at work in Williamsburg?  What about these consistently early starts here on the west coast?  Perhaps I am simply in a new pattern - anxious to not miss a perfect sunrise, grateful to have those found moments of calm in bed (without an alarm) where I can listen to Joe and the hounds slumbering away alongside me and I can take a deep breath and reflect on my great good fortune.  In the calm of this silent start to the day, I can embody my morning prayers of gratitude and thanks ... for family, friends, opportunities, experiences, and health.

Have I mentioned that I am happy?  SO happy to be working and engaged and present in the world.  Life is indeed fine (but still incredibly busy).  Work is engaging and satisfying; learning and fun are going hand in hand.  I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it!  Being in the classroom is energizing and inspiring.  How lucky I am to work in a job where I am utterly content and constantly challenged!  When I pause and consider why this work is so completely satisfying, I believe it comes down to  interacting with the broad array of young, developing personalities.  At Rock Spring, I loved meeting the children as babies, watching them discover their strengths and preferences, and seeing them develop their talents and follow their instincts over their four years at our school.  In third, first and now second grade, I enjoy that same rush of discovery as students stretch and grow, become comfortable, stock their intellectual and skill arsenals, and seek further challenges.  What a GIFT to be able to support their journey, to help guide them through any bumps in the road, and to witness their thrill and joy as they move forward.  I'm where I am meant to be, in the classroom ... and all is well :)

Best of all, I have no cancer updates to report  :)  My next oncology consult is 10/3 with scans to follow in mid-October.  Work is the ultimate salve.  Work in the rush of a classroom and with the demands of full student engagement means that I can sometimes forget that we are still "watchfully waiting."  I do have those moments of realization that "lymphoma may be lurking" but they are rare and only a blip in the course of my happy, full days with Joe, Megan, Jonathan, and supportive circle.