I sit in the silence.  All are sleeping but me.  I love the quiet mornings of summer.  After sleeping 3 ½ hours later than I normally do it is still only 8:30am.  The sun is up and the air is fresh and crisp.  Because of the recent rains, the vegetation is deep green.  The birds are calling to one another.  Soon the busyness of life will begin for the day.  Not that I mind, if I have learned nothing else over the years it is to enjoy every season.  These teenage years are the season of quiet mornings.  I remember the toddler season of quiet nights and the baby season of quiet naps.  Each season has its own joys and pains.

 I have graduated another child and that is both joy and pain combined. The second child is not as hard as the first.  It is no longer an unknown as it was last year.  I realize I do not have to say goodbye forever and that he will be back.  My heart knows that he will change, but that is the right thing for this season.  I have shed fewer tears, but tears just the same.  Again, I am trying to let go and embrace this next stage of life as I have the others before it.  I also realize my nest is not empty yet.  When the last one goes, my guess is there will be more tears because my mothering days…so much a part of who I am will be gone.  At least now, I know that I will always be mom, even when they are gone.  Maybe not as hands on as I am now but mom just the same.  I also know that God will have more for me. 

I think that God is so great to prepare our hearts for changes.  He allows us to draw close to him when we see that life will be difficult, then in that quiet place shows us what is next.  I am certain that for me, writing will be a part of that time.  He is preparing me even now to not shrink back from putting ideas on paper.  He has something there and it will take quiet time to find it.  Right now, quiet time is limited in my life, but one day there will be more.  I gladly accept both the quiet mornings and the quiet days yet to come.

Eighteen years ago, I gave birth to our first son. We did not find out before hand the gender of our baby, preferring instead to be surprised. We had a beautiful girl already so we hoped to have a boy, but would have been happy with either.  In my heart I was relieved when it was a boy because I knew that however many children it took, we would keep going until we got a boy to carry on the Gunnin name.  The labor was not so bad starting and stopping over a period of 24 hours.  The delivery, on the other hand was horrific…my hardest.  Aaron was 10lb. 5oz. and after my petite little 7lb. 5oz. Hannah, I felt as if I was delivering an adult.  The circumference of his head paved the way for his brothers.  It was traumatic to say the least.  However, he was beautiful and soon the pain of birth was a memory.  He has grown up to be a fine young man.  He is always challenging and questioning everything and has been that way from birth.  He is logical to the end and literal in thought.  As a small child that was what endeared him to many.  If Hannah had a forehead, then he must have a three head since he was only three.  He was always thinking even then and came up with some hilarious comments to prove it. His laugh always came easy, even after just a couple of days at home.  (I guess when you deliver an adult that it is to be expected.)  Compassion for others is something he possesses that is a gift.  Music is another.  Soon he will go off to college for more thinking, and probably some music too. I am teary eyed to think of it yet, it is time.  He is ready to enter the next phase of life as a young adult. I am ready to release him…kind of. I am trying may be a better way to put it.  Today we are proud of him and all he has become. Happy Birthday Aaron.  

I know you all think I have disappeared.  Unless you realize what time of year it is…end of school year.  I have simply been too busy to get anything of significance written. 

However, I wanted to update you on the fam.  Hannah is in Israel and loving it.  She is working very hard and finding that digging is very strenuous, but that it helps you sleep really well. She is not too thrilled with the food…mostly veggies she doesn’t like.  She found some pottery yesterday so she was excited about that.  They still have a day or two before they get deep enough to find more.  It is a lot of moving rocks, pulling weeds and briars.  Good experience.  She also did some conservation last week.  So she is getting to see different aspects of archeology and anthropology.  It is hot there over 100 degrees and no air in the hotel so that is not fun.  Over the weekend she traveled around the Sea of Galilee and saw some amazing sites…Peter’s house, Jordan river, mount of the beatitudes, the quiet place of Jesus, and a first century city that is almost intact.  So far she is really enjoying the trip and learning a ton. She will be looking for babysitting jobs when she gets back, to earn some money so keep her in mind.

Peter is doing better, though his stomach still hurts on and off.  It seems to not be a severe and he is feeling normal most of the time now.  It may have been a seasonal thing…not sure just glad it is better.

Aaron is graduating on Friday.  We are having a drop in party on Saturday for those who want to come by.  He is ready to be finished. College orientation in June so he is looking forward to getting to go to Belmont for that.  He will be 18 next Tuesday…am I that old already? 

William made the snare line again for next year in band.  He is excited to finally have a year at the high school with no siblings.  He is more than ready for school to be out for the summer. 

Bill is tuning pianos again if you know anyone that has that need let us know.  I am counting hours now until school is out.  Whew…I will sleep for a week after it is over then get into a summer routine…that WILL include writing regularly.  I have to get back to it or I will suffocate!  Love to you all.

            Hannah invited mom and me to a Mother’s Day tea at Berry.  We came up the night before to spend the night. Our adventure began after we deposited our luggage at a local hotel. As the three of us crossed the parking lot, we discovered a black sky to our left and a sunny one to the right.  Rain was just beginning to sprinkle on our faces when we got to the car.  Across the dark sky, about half way up there was a shelf of rolling white clouds.  Over the edge of the shelf tumbled a cascade of white periodically at random increments.  This caused a beautiful contrast between the pitch-black darkness and the white cloud “waterfall.”  Lightening highlighted the scene with regular intervals of dazzling light. Glowing jagged veins were freeze frames in the midst of the oncoming storm.  We noticed all of this, as we drove away in our car, into the calmer brighter skies to our right.  We were attempting to get Hannah back to her dorm before the storm hit.

  However, shortly after turning onto the highway, the skies began to battle between them.  The dark clouds were racing to overtake the light.  The line between the combatants was just above our heads.  The beautiful white cloud “waterfall” of before turned into a clawing hand, grasping at the light as if to destroy it.  The white fingers were grasping all around just over our heads.  The battle zone became an odd shade of green. It was an eerie, surreal sensation.  We drove faster, now realizing the danger that surrounded us. 

Out the car window, we watched the clash.  Rain so hard we had to slow to a crawl when we really wanted to fly, enveloped us.  We had front row sets to witness the fury of the storm.  The white fingers came together in a fist, and then began to rotate slowly in a circular motion.  The trees on a nearby hill were sideways within the force of the wind. Frantically trying to confirm what we were witnessing, we dialed our cell phones.  Family members in front of computer screens at home did not see anything but strong thunderstorm warnings, no tornado watches, or warnings.  Yet in front of our eyes and over our heads we were watching the white on black swirling fight.  A few moments later, as we were crossing Kingston Rd., a text confirmed radar had picked up a tornado just south of Rome Ga heading toward Kingston.  At home, still on the phone, family members said, a warning just came across the screen for Rome. The danger we knew was enveloping us was confirmed.

 We watched as the storm continued to move rapidly to our right.  Driving to seek cover, the rain was tumultuous which prevented us from gaining any speed.  Soon we were out of the worst of it, but did not know if more was following.  Nervous laughter cut the tension in the car as we talked of our adventure.  In the distance, we saw the school, whose rock buildings stood as an island of safety each time the sky flashed.  Once we arrived, we found hundreds of students crouched in the hallway on the lowest floor.  Curious looks found us as we burst through the door.  Before we could share our tale, or sit to duck and cover we had to find the bathroom…so we wouldn’t wet our pants.  This three-generation adventure will live on in our family history…the tornado-dodging women and the night they witnessed the battle of dark and light.

What a glorious day. The language of God surrounds me.  The birds have returned from wherever they go in the winter and they are singing to the sun as it rises.  Woodpeckers knock all around and their search for bugs echos through the valley.  In the distance, a rooster crows.  Day is breaking. I am here on my porch hoping the feel of the sun will elevate my mood.  My heart is heavy these days.  I know some of the reasons why, but it seems deeper than day to day life…not depression exactly, more like an impeding event ahead. It is similar to the way I felt before the election, an unidentified, strange feeling of uneasiness.  The birds around me today are oblivious and I will join them soon while working in the yard.  This feeling comes and then passes, it calls me to my knees and then releases me to go about my life.  God is drawing me near and whispering in my ear, “Pride comes before a fall.”  I know what that means…humility or humiliation depending on our response. Personal falls over many years have taught me that truth.  I choose humility.  So now…I wait, I watch, I pray, I listen to the language of God and in the distance, a rooster crows.

The biopsies results are in on Peter’s endoscopy, and we finally have a diagnosis.  Eosinophilic esophagitis. I know…I thought the same thing…what in the world is that? It is the inflammation of the esophagus, due to allergies.  I am including some info I got off the internet for those people who want more details.  I cannot even pronounce this so I am not of much help for the medically curious among you.  At this point, we will add a medicine for about a month to see if that can reduce the inflammation.  Then we have a follow up visit with the doctor.  It is a relief to finally know the cause of the pain…and that it is treatable.  Thank you for all of your prayers.  Continue to pray that this treatment will do the trick, because it gets more complicated if this type medicine doesn’t work.  Poor Peter, he always has the difficult allergic things to deal with, sinus, throat, and now this.  However, we are blessed that God provided a “smart guesser” and many faithful praying friends.  Thank you all.

 Internet Info on Eosinophilic Esophagitis (or the much easier EE for short.)

Doctors believe that eosinophilic esophagitis is a type of esophagitis that is caused by allergy just like asthma, hay fever, allergic rhinitis, and atopic dermatitis even though the exact substance that is causing the allergy is not known. The hallmark of eosinophilic esophagitis is the presence of large numbers of eosinophils in the tissue just beneath the inner lining of the esophagus.

Eosinophils are white blood cells (leukocytes) manufactured in the bone marrow and are one of many types of cells that actively promote inflammation. They are particularly active in the type of inflammation caused by allergic reactions. Thus, large number of eosinophils can accumulate in tissues such as the esophagus, the stomach, the small intestine, and sometimes in the blood when individuals are exposed to an allergen. The allergen(s) that causes eosinophilic esophagitis is not known. It is not even known whether the allergen is inhaled or ingested. Eosinophilic esophagitis is more common among individuals with other allergic conditions such as asthma, hay fever, allergic rhinitis, and atopic dermatitis.

Eosinophilic esophagitis affects both children and adults. For unknown reasons, men are more commonly affected than women, and it is most commonly found among young boys and men.

Until a few years ago, I didn’t know that much about cancer.  Cancerland was a place that old people went for excruciating treatments before they died.  Of course, I had heard a few terms, such as tumors, radiation, and chemo, but I had no idea what they meant.  I didn’t even know that chemo is short for chemicals.  Let’s just say I was ignorant of the complexities of the disease. 

Then came my diagnosis…first endometrial, then uterine, then ovarian.   Talk about a learning curve.  I have compared it to being thrown into a boxing ring with the heavyweight champ…only without any training or preparation.  The words “you have cancer” are the first devastating blow in a ruthless fight.  While you are reeling from the first hit, dazed and in shock, you realize cancer isn’t just for old people anymore.  Your medical team swarms around you talking in a foreign tongue that is difficult to understand, while you wonder how to prepare your children to live without you.  Devastating does not begin to cover the impact of this whirlwind.  It is a scary, lonely place, because you are in the ring by yourself.

When you look around to get your bearings, you see people in your corner.  They are cheering for you, and even though you can see the fear in their faces; they offer kind words and encouragement.  They bring you food and offer to take drive your kids. They come pray over you when you are afraid. Cards flood your mailbox, and you realize that your life is intertwined with many amazing people.  You think “It is sad that it took cancer for me to realize how truly blessed I am.”  

Your caregivers, the ones that stand to loose the most if you throw in the towel, stand firm.  They endure ER visits, side effects of medications, grumpiness, and overall chaos.  This battle could not be fought without them; they are the rocks in a sea of panic. Does that mean they are not afraid?  By no means…they are terrified, but they know the battle does not wait until we are ready, so they plough through one step after another.  Day after day, bad report after bad report their lives hang in the balance along with yours.  Hoping for good news becomes a daily prayer, while the world goes on around them.  It is surreal. 

Our school family has been hit hard this year and cancer seems to be behind every bush.  It is stealing from us, and that is difficult to take.  Our hearts are broken for wives and children who have watched their loved ones slip away.  We have a ringside seat so we can see up close the toll the battle is having.  The helpless feeling of being an observer is hard to stomach.  We are a group of doers and it seems there is very little to do. 

I have an idea.  It is a small thing, but it could make a difference.  Relay for Life sells luminaries to raise money for cancer research.  Some of that research is what saved my life by developing the chemicals that treated my cancer.  I am one of the fortunate ones.  To continue to find treatment options is critical to the battle for the cure.  Relay is one small way to support those in our school family.  I plan to purchase luminaries in memory of Dennis Carpenter and in honor of Monty Pert.  It would be moving to see hundreds of luminaries with Dennis and Monty’s names on them.  Somehow, it acknowledges the pain of the battle, and makes a statement that the fight will not end now.  Though the champ appears to be winning at times, we will not give up.  The friends and family members will not forget, nor will we quit.  I plan to make an exclamation of that fact by purchasing luminaries. Will you join me?

For all that are concerned with Peter’s health, here is the latest…

We went to Scottish Rite for the Endoscopy this morning.  It went well and we have some great pictures of his perfectly healthy insides.  So we ruled out ulcers, polyps, tumors and anything else you could see with your eyes…that’s good news.  He also took some small samples from the esophagus, stomach, and intestine.  Those are sent off for biopsies that will be returned sometime next week.  He says they will show if there is anything on a microscopic level that we cannot see. 

Beyond that, he is starting to think that stress related issues would be next to consider.  He asked if we have had any stressors in our lives lately….ha!  Little did he know what can of worms he was getting into.  For kids that do not express their emotions outwardly, they internalize and that can cause physical symptoms like stomach pain.  This of course is much harder to diagnose and/or treat. 

However, I still feel there is some kind of physical cause that we just have not gotten to yet.  It seems too constant to be stress related to me.  I asked today if it could be lungs or some other system besides digestive.  He felt that if that were the case some of the blood work done at the ER would have shown it…but he also didn’t quite rule it out either.  For now, we are waiting on biopsies to come back and then looking toward stress related issues after that.  If we have another ER visit he said to tell them to do another CT scan WITH contrast…since last time they didn’t use contrast.  He said that would show inflammation anywhere and may give us a clearer picture of the source.  So your continued prayers are much appreciated.

So, I am watching it snow and thinking how winter and spring are having this battle. It occurs to me that this is the week of the Resurrection.  Once again, God shows us a natural picture of the spiritual world. Last Sunday was the perfect weather for a triumphal entry wasn’t it?  It could not have better…beautiful sun; the temperature was warm but not too warm.  On a day like that, it is easy to believe that anything is possible.  We could take over the world, couldn’t we?  Problems are distant, the birds are singing and all is well.  I don’t know what the weather was like 2,000 years ago, but I bet the disciples had the feeling that they had arrived, as palm branches were thrown at the feet of Jesus. Their spirits lifted by the enthusiastic reception of the Messiah, they rejoiced that their difficult journey was at an end.  Little did they know that winter had one last storm to throw their way.  They did not perceive the change in seasons could happen so suddenly.

The events went terribly wrong then. It was a trap…or it appears so.  How in the world could those same cheering people become the jeering mob in a matter of days? Winter returned and the snow fell, spiritually speaking. The harsh cold returned and within a few short hours had blanketed all of Jerusalem with a coat of bitterness.  It was a battle in full swing.  If we could have seen the heavenly war being waged it would have been something to behold.  The battle to end all battles, literally.  When Jesus breathed his last breath, I think God cried.  There was darkness over the land like a permanent winter.  For three days, it seemed that winter had won, and spring would never again bud into full blossom. 

But God, ( I love those two little words) was not finished yet. Spring returned in all its glory…in a garden of all places.  God was mistaken for a gardener, but I ask you, was that really a mistake?  Didn’t this whole creation begin in a garden?  I think it was appropriate that the women mistook him for a gardener, in fact, I think in that moment they saw a great deal about his character.  He is someone that creates beauty; who nurtures those in his care.  A God that plants, feeds, and waters his own design in order to bring it to its fullness. A patient God who is not in a hurry because he knows the end result will be a masterpiece that is worth the wait…and the sacrifice of his son. All of this we see in a short moment of mistaken identity. Or was it?  Maybe instead, it was a moment of clarity, one of true identity. 

Suddenly, spring breaks forth and eyes open to perceive the nourishment for God’s garden…the risen Messiah.  He stands among us even now. Can you see him?  Spring has won the battle, and despite what winter wants you to believe, the battle is over.  The snow falling on my deck right now is a temporary blip on the screen. The sun (son) will break through and the earth will awake…it is done. I thank God for his pictures that demonstrate his truth.  It is finished.   

Peter is feeling some better, still hurting but not as severely.  His x-ray results came back today and there is not a blockage...good news, except that would have been the easiest to fix.  Next Wed. April 15 he will be having an endoscopy.  That should tell us more than we know right now.  Continue your prayers and thanks for holding us up.  🙂