Well, it's been about 11 months since the last time I blogged here.... Looking back at the last time I was quite surprised at the length of time that had passed since my last jottings on "Chabot's Corner". I guess it just all seemed so trivial to me. As I had mentioned in my previous posting, my husband, Chris, and I were about to travel with the children to Portland for 3 weeks, during which the kids would stay with our good friends the Torsons and we would be staying in a hotel in the alphabet district called Northrup Station while Chris underwent surgery to donate his left kidney to a former dialysis patient of his.
Crazy, right? Yes.
The surgery went splendidly, though there were a couple minor complications afterwards with Chris' system adjusting. It was a beautiful, spiritual thing even in the midst of his pain. It was awful seeing my husband like that. But he got through it, stronger, and so did his recipient, Kathy. She is now thriving like she never has before, and a lifelong bond has been formed between all of us, including her lovely husband Tom.
Our stay following in Portland was magical. I'm not even kidding...when we returned we seriously played with the idea of moving there. We aborted that plan soon after, though, when reality hit and we remembered that Chris is now a full-time musician as his trade, and his client base is now here in California for the time being. That said, Portland is now embedded in our hearts like a chunk of gold in the side of a rock inside of us that can never be removed. We are drawn to it..the green, living soul of Portland, the gritty yet clean city streets and mossy forest with the high trees like an overgrown ceiling obscuring the sun. But mainly we are drawn to the connections to our beautiful friends that supported us while we were there. Abby and Tano, and Leanne and Brent and all of their children. They have become family to us for life. They fed us, they drove us, they put us up. They let me cry. They took us to church and prayed for us. It was surreal to be loved like that.
When we returned and Chris' recovery time began here in California, there was a feasible letdown. A low hit me pretty hard. Portland in the spring (or summer, or autumn) can do that to a soul.
California has been good to us though. Thank God, there's been a good amount of rain this autumn through the winter so that everything has turned from dusty brown to a glowing neon green, which always stirs life in me and in Chris.
The kids are happy, attending the charter school around the corner from our home, and Eli, the high school behind us. We are thankful, out loud, every single day. We see that we are blessed. That we are favored somehow. That this simplistic, sometimes penniless life is the sweet life. We feel lucky.
We have peace, and a lot of joy. We get out and hike on those expansive green hills. We go to the ocean and taste the salt in the air and get breathless.
We are loving the process of life. Each day has something sparkling in the midst of the mundane.
Of course, we have dreams and aspirations to fulfill, but we hold them a bit loosely, not allowing our happiness to be dependent on those things. Chris would love to record a couple more albums full of the songs he has been given in the wake of all of the inspiring life happenings he has gone through. Donating a kidney..loving someone so consciously in that way...I mean, it's huge. It leaves this space in a person, from what I have witnessed, where humility and new life can enter in in abundance. And so fresh songs have filled that place. Beautiful songs that have touched people deeply. It's amazing to watch. We'd love to travel to Europe and share his music there. I would love to write books. We would love to someday have a home of our own where we could keep chickens and a goat.
We'd love to not have to worry so much about money.
But right now. Right now is sweet. Each day is this luscious gift with hidden jewels to discover, and I won't hide my eyes from the search.
Today is Ash Wednesday. I have never gotten the ash placed on my forehead symbolizing the cross and that as man, we are dust and shall return to dust. But I think it's a beautiful practice. I think it puts the fragility of life and how fleeting it is into perspective, We have today. What will we make of today? I'm going to look for the gems. I know I'll find them.
