Mishaps, Mountains, & Memories (Part I)

“Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God.”
~ Psalm 90:1,2 (NKJV)

Last week Keen and I took a road trip to Colorado to check out the area where we plan to host the Van Kirk Family Reunion next summer.
The month leading up to our vacation had been incredibly busy for Keen, so we were both looking forward to the well-timed trip. The day before we left, Keen sent me this note via email: (My response follows.)

Eileen: I left this morning without telling you that I love you. I think about you so much during the day. I am so happy, so satisfied, so glad that you love me. I am so excited about being with you for a whole week. I just couldn’t get started today without writing you a note this morning.

Have a great day!

Love,

Keen
*************
Dear Keen,

You have no idea what your note meant to me this morning. I had a terrible dream; a frightening dream. So when I got up, I was hoping to find a note from you. I looked all over the house – in the bathroom and the kitchen. Then I turned on my computer and I could hardly believe my eyes. A note from the love of my life, my cherished husband of 28 years with the subject line: "I love you!" Has God blessed us with a wonderful union or what?

I love you, too, Keen, and I am pinching myself that we will be together - on a real vacation - for seven whole days. Rain or shine - I know it will be sublime, because I'll be with you and you'll be with me.

I love you, Keen.

Eileen
****************
After packing our suitcases and tying up several loose ends, we loaded our bicycles on the back of the Durango and began our long trek to Colorado. Along the way we passed the time by listening to the Kansas State Wildcats 31-27 win over Oklahoma State. After eating dinner at a truck stop where the food didn’t look anything like the pictures on the menu, we decided to take a “shorter” route to our destination, which left us out in the middle of nowhere by nightfall. We kept driving and driving, thinking that we would come upon a town with a population greater than 25, but that didn’t happen for much longer than we anticipated. So then we just started acting goofy and laughing while we sang off-key to the music on the radio. But Keen got the biggest laugh of the night at my expense. We were holding hands and be-bopping to the music when, without thinking, I decided to lean over and give Keen a kiss on his hand while it was still “be-bopping." This resulted in one or both of us effectively punching me right in the nose!

We finally reached civilization in Colorado Springs and checked into a hotel. Our second mishap occurred the next morning when I stepped out of the passenger seat and my digital camera fell off my lap and crashed on the ground. After examining the damage, we discovered that the most important feature of the camera still seemed to be operational. However, I could no longer view the pictures after I took them to verify whether it was really working or not. So I just kept taking pictures like normal, hoping that the clicking sound I heard meant that the picture actually took.

Our next stop was the Royal Gorge Canyon and Bridge in Cañon City, Colorado. The Royal Gorge Bridge is the highest suspension bridge in the world. Since Keen and I decided not to walk the quarter-mile bridge over the canyon, I just took some pictures of it from a distance.



Then we headed for our next destination – Mt. Princeton Hot Springs Resort in Nathrop, Colorado, which is where we plan to hold the family reunion. The resort is located halfway between Salida and Buena Vista, nestled in the majestic Sangre de Cristo Mountains near the San Isabel National Forest. Keen and I discovered Mt. Princeton last summer when we were on our way home from visiting my stepmom. That’s when Colorado became our second favorite state.

After checking into our cabin, we grabbed our walking sticks and set out to take our first hike in the mountains. We ended up on the Colorado Trail just up the road from Mt. Princeton and directly across from the beautiful Chalk Cliffs. There was a slight drizzle, but we didn’t let it stop us, although we did notice the difference in altitude as we both ran out of breath rather quickly. On the drive back we were excited to spot a large group of deer on the side of the road. They don’t dart away like they do in Kansas, so it was fun to be able to take lots of pictures from our vehicle.




Lastly, we stopped at the Chalk Creek falls and snapped a few more photos.





The next morning it was still raining, but Keen was merciless. “It’s no hill for a climber!” he said. So we bundled up and headed out for a bike ride in the rain. The ride downhill was a blast as we sailed like the wind, but the trip back up was sheer agony.

“Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time. Then your time on earth will be filled with glory."
~ Betty Smith

To be continued . . .

In Pursuit of Sleep

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for Thou alone, O Lord, makest me dwell in safety.” ~Psalms 4:8

A while back, the Prairie Post ran an article titled, “If quality sleep is a challenge … the Morris County Hospital may have a solution.” This article caught my eye because Keen went through the St. Francis Sleep Disorder Clinic about 15 years ago. Since Keen and I are on our way to Colorado for a week of hiking, biking and yes, some much needed rest, I thought I would share a copy of a speech I once gave about our experience titled, “Journey to a Good Night’s Sleep.”

“Laugh and the world laughs with you. Snore and you sleep alone.” ~Anthony Burgess

For the first 12 years of my married life I slept with a snorer – and a loud one at that. I didn’t like it much, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it, so I learned to adjust. That is, until 1989.

1989 was the year our fourth child, Kirk was born. Kirk had digestive problems that went undiagnosed until he was 8 ½ months old when we finally learned that he was allergic to milk. But up until that point, he cried frequently during the day and didn’t sleep through the night. Plus, I had three other children to take care of.

“People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one.” ~Leo J. Burke

Between Kirk’s crying and Keen’s snoring, I was pretty much in a constant state of sleep deprivation. Eventually I became so desperate for some relief that I asked my dear husband if he would please sleep on the couch so I could try to get some rest.

Fortunately, that arrangement didn’t last long because for Christmas that year my father gave us a video camera. That wonderful new gadget gave me the tool I needed to prove once and for all that my husband’s snoring really did sound like a chain saw! But as I was videotaping him one day during a nap, I observed something else. Keen didn’t just snore – he actually stopped breathing during his sleep – for what seemed like an eternity. This interruption in his breathing would be followed by a loud gasp for air before the snoring resumed and the cycle repeated itself.

I had always been concerned about the effect his snoring had on my life, but then I became worried about the effect it might be having on his life. So I contacted the Sleep Disorder Center at St. Francis and they recommended that we make an appointment with a specialist who could refer Keen to the clinic for a sleep study and evaluation.

The evaluation process involved Keen spending the night at the sleep clinic while being hooked up to all kinds of electrodes that monitored every facet of his sleep. It didn’t take very long at all for them to diagnosis Keen with an ailment known as obstructive sleep apnea, or OSA.

The Greek word “apnea” literally means “without breath.” This syndrome is caused by a blockage of the airway which occurs when the soft tissue in the rear of the throat collapses and closes during sleep. When we’re asleep, our muscles relax more than they do during waking hours and in some people, this relaxation lets the airway in the back of the throat become too narrow, thus interfering with breathing. Some other causes of sleep apnea are being overweight, having a smaller-than-normal jaw, an overbite or enlarged tonsils. The end result of obstructive sleep apnea is excessive daytime sleepiness which is caused by the fact that the individual is literally struggling to breathe all night long.

In Keen’s case, he stopped breathing up to 400 times a night for up to 60 seconds per episode. At that rate, he was actually not breathing more than he was breathing.

After observing Keen for a couple of hours, the technologist at the sleep center decided to equip him with a breathing machine known as a CPAP, which stands for continuous positive airway pressure. This device forces pressurized air back into the patient’s lungs through a mask that fits securely over the nose.

I would be remiss not to reiterate the significant and potentially life-threatening consequences of untreated OSA. In addition to the dangers associated with daytime sleepiness such as job impairment and motor vehicle crashes, sleep apnea can cause high blood pressure, memory problems and headaches. But the most dangerous aspect of sleep apnea is the increased risk of heart failure, heart attack or stroke.

According to David Miller of the St. Francis Sleep Disorder Center, at least 30% of all heart attacks are related to sleep apnea and not to heart disease. Put in simple terms, a heart attack is oxygen starvation of the heart muscles. During episodes of sleep apnea, the blood oxygen level drops dangerously low and over time, this oxygen deprivation takes a serious toll on the heart as well as other vital organs.

The good news is that the CPAP machine works! In our experience, it’s made all the difference in the world – not only for Keen’s quality of sleep, but also for mine. Now Keen wakes up feeling rejuvenated and ready to face the challenges of the day. As for me, I’ve grown accustomed to the soothing hum of the CPAP machine and no longer need to ask my husband to sleep on the couch so I can get a good night’s sleep.

The bottom line is this: snoring is no laughing matter. So if someone you love snores, please encourage them to see their health care professional. Not only could it improve your life – it could save theirs.

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor's book.” ~Irish Proverb

Twice as Nice

“Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged. . . .”
~ Proverbs 17:6a (NLT)

Now, I’m not ready to admit to being “aged” just yet, but I will gladly admit that having grandchildren is one of the most rewarding experiences of middle age.

After Katelyn was born, our grandson Asher astutely noted that our family was “equal” now, with two grandsons and two granddaughters. But the fact that Keen and I now have as many grandchildren as we have children was a little piece of trivia that hadn’t hit me until recently. It’s just amazing to think that we have doubled our numbers – and then some, if you include our two daughters-in-law!

The weekend before last I had the joy of flying to Mississippi to help Asher and Gabe celebrate their 7th and 4th birthdays. They are born exactly three years and four days apart, so Jared and Erin threw them a joint party at a local bowling alley – complete with pizza, cake and plenty of tokens for the adjacent arcade.

The Birthday Buddies

The trip also gave me a chance to get my hands on my precious little namesake, Emma Eileen. (Her first name came from Erin’s maternal great-grandmother.) Emma looked like a living doll in her frilly party dress, headband, and pink shoes.

Emma in her party dress

She is growing like a weed and has a great disposition. Jared said Emma thinks her name is “beautiful” because he tells her that all the time, and she just grins from ear to ear. Jared’s favorite outfit to put her in is one that bears the words, “Daddy’s little princess.” But Erin has filled Emma’s closet with many more outfits declaring that her heart belongs to Mommy. Of course, Emma is adored by both of her parents and two big brothers – as well as her grandparents and lots of aunts and uncles from both sides.

Jared, Erin and "Sleeping Beauty"

During my last visit with the grandkids back in May, I wrote down a few funny things that happened. (Have you noticed that things always seem funnier to the grandparents?) One time Gabe was all upset because the clothes I picked out for him “didn’t match.” Another time he was in tears because Rocky the Labrador was eating his toy penguin. So I bravely rescued the penguin from certain demise, only to have Gabe lose the little creature in the toilet a few minutes later. Another time Asher and Gabe were playing on the couch when they suffered a brutal head on collision – with each other – and they both blamed the other one while they held their foreheads and cried.

One day Gabe came into the room asking me to help him with an unusual problem. For some unknown reason, he had taped one of his eyelids shut with a Spiderman Band-Aid. When I asked him why he did that, he replied, “Because I say so.” So I extricated the Band-Aid from his eye ever so delicately, trying to preserve as many eyelashes as possible in the process. A short time later, I noticed that Gabriel had transferred the Spiderman Bandaid to his nose. And I don’t mean over the bridge of his nose. No, he placed it directly across his two nostrils, causing him to have a nasal-sounding voice. It cracked me up so much that I decided to take some video of him. As I started taping, I couldn’t keep from laughing. “That’s not punny, Gramma,” he said, with a hint of indignation. “What’s not funny?” I asked. “It’s not punny in my unner-wear.” Now I was really having a hard time holding back. “Oh, I’m not laughing at your underwear, Gabe, I’m laughing at the Band-aid on your nose.” “That’s not punny.” (In other words, “refer to my previous answer, Gramma!”) On the contrary, it was very funny! We’ve had more laughs over that. Keen even has an 8x10 picture of Gabe in his law office with the Band-aid on his nose. (It looks like a mug shot.)


As you can see, Gabriel makes the “p” sound in place of an “f.” So while I was there I would try to correct him. One time he told me that some jean shorts didn’t “pit” him. So I said, “fit, fit.” And he promptly repeated, “pit, pit.”

Asher is the more laid back of the two, and he has a very analytical mind. He actually understands the complicated strategies involved in playing his two favorite games, Pokeman and Yugioh. He also loves playing video games. Erin said that they were at the park recently when Asher met a little girl who had some Pokeman cards. “You know,” he proudly announced, “I’m the King of Games.” We laughed so hard over that. “Your search is over, young lady. I am he.”

One day Asher said: “Grandma, I can spell ‘see.’ S-e-e.” Then he added, “It’s also a letter of the alphabet – “C” – and it’s also a word in Spanish that means yes. Am I right?” He has such a sharp little mind. He’s always saying things like, “I go to school for five days and then I’m home for two days.” Speaking of school, he’s getting all A’s and he almost always has “green days” for good behavior.

Gabe is a lot more rambunctious and aggressive. One time when he and I were shopping I made a comment that he disapproved of and he replied: “Daddy said to stop saying that.” Later, when we were at Target I saw a shirt that I thought would be perfect for him because it said, “I’m the boss.” So I showed it to Erin and hung it on the cart. Can you guess why I didn’t end up buying it? Because Gabe said he didn’t like it! (Case in point.) But that was back in May, and I must say that he’s mellowed out a lot just since then. In fact, when I arrived at the bowling alley a couple of weeks ago, Gabe was the first one to run up to me and give me a big hug. I thought he was never going to let go, which of course melted my heart and made me feel so loved.

Being grandparents is truly one of God’s greatest gifts and life’s greatest joys. It’s like the saying goes: “If we knew how much fun grandchildren were, we would have had them first!”

Gramma Eileen with Jared, Erin & Family

Angel in Disguise

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven continually see the face of My Father who is in heaven.” ~ Matthew 18:10

“Trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!”

William Wordsworth, “Ode: Intimations of Immortality”

This week I’d like to write about our newest little granddaughter, Katelyn Seraphina. Katelyn Seraphina entered the world on June 7, 2006, and she was baptized at St. Isidore’s Catholic Church in Manhattan, Kansas, on Sunday, September 17th.

As you may recall, Katelyn was born with Down syndrome, a congenital disorder caused by the presence of an extra 21st chromosome. The web site for the Greater Kansas City Down Syndrome Guild (www.kcdsg.org) contains the following description:

Down syndrome is a chromosomal disorder that affects one in every 800 live births. It is one of the leading clinical causes of intellectual disability in the world. Individuals with Down syndrome are at higher risk for medical problems and language delays. Quality educational programs, along with a stimulating home environment and good medical care, enable individuals with Down syndrome to become contributing members of their families and communities. Approximately 4,000 babies are born in the United States with Down syndrome each year, affecting about one-quarter million families. There is a wide variation in the abilities, physical development, behavior and personalities of individuals with Down syndrome. Individuals with Down syndrome benefit from loving homes, appropriate medical care, inclusive education, and positive public attitudes.

When we realized that there was a problem with Katelyn, it was such a shock because it was so unexpected. My heart literally ached for our son Josh and his wife Lisa. No one expects to give birth to a baby with special needs, so when it happens, your head just starts spinning as you try to grasp the magnitude of the situation. I still remember when the doctor came into Lisa’s hospital room after examining Katelyn. She explained that they were “suspicious” that Katelyn might have Down syndrome, but they wouldn’t know for sure until the test results came back. With the greatest sensitivity and compassion, she shared that two of her closest friends had babies with Down syndrome within the last year and they both express the great joy their babies have added to their lives. With tears in their eyes, Josh and Lisa listened intently and nodded in agreement. “God chose us to be Katelyn’s parents,” Lisa said.

After the doctor left, Josh looked around at all the grandparents gathered in the room. “There are an awful lot of gloomy faces in here,” he said. It broke my heart to think that Josh might have felt – for even one moment – that we were somehow disappointed with Katelyn. It was just so hard to adjust to the news at first.

When we left the hospital I cried a bucket of tears and throughout the following day. When I called my brother Bill I could hardly get the words out I was sobbing so hard. He just kept saying, “Oh, Eileen. I’m so sorry.” I asked him if he could call the rest of my siblings – except Connie. I wanted to talk to Connie. As usual, she had a listening ear and the perfect gentle spirit to calm my troubled heart. That night Keen’s brother Kevin called and shared some comforting Bible verses with us from Psalm 139:13-17:

“For You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!”

His phone call was a great encouragement to us, and after that Keen and I didn’t waste another minute feeling sad about what Katelyn didn’t have. We just started thanking God for the miracle of her birth and the wonder of her special little life. From that day forward, we have cherished every moment with our granddaughter – and we couldn’t love her more if we tried.

Here is an email Keen sent to Josh and Lisa two days after Katelyn’s birth:

Dear Josh and Lisa:

Mom and I want you to know that we are so proud of you. We are absolutely thrilled with our new granddaughter, Miss Katelyn.

She is so profoundly precious to us. She is only 48 hours old and she has brought so much love into our family. I can only imagine what it will be like in a week, month and in years to come. I’m so happy and feel so blessed to have Katelyn in our lives. We are merely audiences to the wonderful blessing God is bringing into our lives. This is truly a time for celebration!! Mom and I plan on coming up Saturday. When you are done with work, we’ll barbeque and then go to a driving range and crush some golf balls.

I love you, Josh and Lisa.

Dad

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born, I sanctified you." ~ Jeremiah 1:5

Thankfully, Katelyn has a healthy heart and is progressing well. She’s alert, active, and aware – always looking around at the people and things in her range of sight. If someone new comes in the room, she notices and turns her head in the direction of their voice. She is tracking objects very well from left to right and up and down. I think I already bragged about how she flipped from her tummy to her back when she was only 5 weeks old!

Last week I spent the night at their house and attended Katelyn’s group therapy session the next day. She had music therapy, did some work on an exercise ball, and had a baby massage. She has two to three classes a week including speech therapy, physical therapy, and occupational therapy. Katelyn’s only issue has been with feeding. She doesn’t always take the amount of milk she needs to have in a day, so her “Super-Mom” Lisa will often set the alarm to feed her in the middle of the night, even when Katelyn would have kept sleeping. Katelyn is such a contented little one. She rarely cries, so when she does cry, you know that something is really wrong.

We are so proud of the way Josh and Lisa have handled everything. Josh told us that during the first few minutes they had alone with Katelyn after her birth, he and Lisa prayed together and asked God to give them the strength and guidance they would need to take care of their special little girl.

“Faith is believing in advance what can only be understood in reverse.” ~ Chuck Swindoll

Josh and Lisa are the best parents Katelyn could ever hope to have. Recently Lisa said, “At first we wondered what our life would be like with her, but now we can’t imagine what our life would be like without her.” Lisa told me that she wouldn’t want Katelyn to be any different, because then she wouldn’t be Katelyn anymore. “Josh and I are just crazy about her,” she said.

Here is the upbeat email that Josh sent to all their friends and family after Katelyn’s birth:

“Hello everyone, as a new daddy I proudly get to show off photos of my new baby girl to everyone I meet and go on-and-on about how great she is and will be. I'd like to introduce all of you to Katelyn Seraphina Umbehr, who came into this world on 6/7/06. Little Miss Katelyn weighed 8.09 pounds, was 17" long, and caused her mother to go through 11 hours of drug-free labor (although her future siblings probably won't, Mom says).

Our little bundle of joy had a rough start at life and will be staying in the capable hands of the Shawnee Mission NICU for a little while. Miss Katelyn has Down syndrome, a murmur and a touch of pulmonary hypertension, so we're all just praying that she comes through everything ok. We're thanking God for 10 fingers and 10 toes and the rest is just bonus.

Please keep us in your prayers and check out the pictures of the newest [member] of the Umbehr family.

PS - The fact that her initials are KSU (our alma mater) is purely coincidence :) Katelyn is the name my mom had picked out for a girl but never used b/c she had all boys and Seraphina is the name of Katelyn's Great-Grandma whom Lisa adores.

********

I’d like to close by sharing some of the words of a song written by Bruce Carroll titled: “Sometimes Miracles Hide.” He is also the author of a book by the same title. It is a collection of short stories from parents of children with special needs. At the beginning of the song, the doctor informs a young couple that there is a problem with the baby the mother is carrying. It continues:

"I’ll wait a week for your decision,” and then the words cut like a knife. “I’m sure everyone will understand if you want to end its life." Though they were badly shaken, they just had no choice, because they knew God creates no accidents and they were sure they heard His voice, sayin’:

(chorus) Sometimes miracles hide, and God will wrap some blessings in disguise, and you may have to wait this lifetime, to see the reasons with your eyes, cause sometimes miracles hide.

Though she was not like the other girls they thought she was the best, and through all the years of struggle neither whispered one regret. And the first day that she started school and took her first bus ride, they’d remembered the words that God had spoke and they both broke down and cried.

You see to them it did not matter, why some things in life take place, cause they just knew the joy they felt when they’d look into her face. They learned that sometimes miracles hide, they said God has wrapped our blessing in disguise, and we may have to wait this lifetime to see the reasons with our eyes, we know sometimes miracles hide. We’ve learned sometimes miracles hide.

*******

The night that Katelyn was born I gave Lisa a big hug. “She’s going to be such a blessing,” I whispered. With tears in her eyes Lisa softly replied, “She already is.”

You’re so right, Lisa. She already is. As my friend Barbara Lerma said, she is that “pearl of great price – a sweet little pearl to treasure and love.” Miss Katelyn Seraphina Umbehr. Our little angel in disguise.

“Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” ~ Mark 10:14

Katelyn Seraphina in her baptismal gown

Fr. Keith baptizes Katelyn

The proud parents and grandparents at Katelyn's baptism

Fighting Life

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33 (KJV)

"Things don't go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be."

~ Charlie Jones, motivational speaker and author of “Life is Tremendous”

Fighting Life
By Eileen Umbehr

Do you ever feel like you’re fighting life
Or that life is fighting you?
Believe me when I say that I understand
Because I have felt that way, too.

But life has a way of teaching us
Those lessons we so need to learn
And if we don’t pass the test the first time
We just start over and repeat our turn.

We can waste a lot of time asking God “why?”
Or we can trust that He knows what is best
After all, He loves us more than anyone could
And His desire is that we be blessed.

But just as our children don’t always agree
With the decisions that we parents make
We just hope that one day they will understand
That we did what we did for their sake.

For faith is the substance of things hoped for
And the evidence of things not seen
That means putting our life in God’s capable hands,
From beginning to end and in between.

Yes, the Bible tells us not to avoid our problems
But let patience have its perfect work
Because then we will not lack in anything
That we need to survive on this Earth

For not until we reach those Pearly Gates
Will the troubles of life pass away
So for now I will endeavor to let God be God
And for His strength daily I will pray.

****************************

“Thank you, Lord, for all that I learned from my brokenness . . . .for the courage it takes to live with the pain. . . .and for the strength it takes to remain on the shore.” ~ Carol Hamblet Adams, author of “My Beautiful Broken Shell”

In 1981, Rabbi Harold Kushner published a book titled, “When Bad Things Happen to Good People,” which later became a #1 bestseller. The publisher’s comments listed on the Barnes and Noble website describe how Rabbi Kushner wrote the book after learning that his three-year-old son, Aaron, would die in his early teens from a rare disease.

I think it is understandable for those who are confronted with tragedy in their lives to wonder why this particular event happened to them or their family. We often ask what we did to deserve this, as if it is some form of punishment for past sins. But that is simply not the case. In the Book of Job we read that Job was a man who was “blameless and upright, one who feared God and shunned evil.” Our righteousness - or lack thereof – has nothing whatsoever to do with the amount of tribulation in our life.

“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” ~Psalm 34: 18,19

If we look at the life and death of Jesus Himself, He prayed that if possible, His cup of suffering could pass from Him. But then He added, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” Jesus realized that there was so much more at stake – indeed, the salvation of all mankind. In the same way, we need to realize that sometimes our troubles are not about us, but about how God can miraculously use difficult situations in our lives to help multitudes of others cope with the struggles in their life.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” ~ II Corinthians 1:3,4 (NKJV)

Rabbi Kushner stated that he not only wrote his book out of a need to process his own grief, but in hopes of helping others who might find themselves facing a similar situation. “I am fundamentally a religious man who has been hurt by life and I wanted to write a book that could be given to the person who has been hurt by life, and who knows in his heart that if there is justice in the world, he deserved better... If you are such a person, if you want to believe in God's goodness and fairness but find it hard because of the things that have happened to you and to people you care about, and if this book helps you do that, then I will have succeeded in distilling some blessing out of Aaron's pain and tears."

I think that’s what we all look for in times of trial – a way to garner something positive out of an event that is seemingly wholly negative. In the case of my cancer diagnosis and subsequent mastectomy, it is my deepest desire that the good that comes from it could very possibly be lives saved – lives of women who, after reading or hearing about my experience, will themselves get the mammogram they have been putting off. In so doing, maybe some of them will be fortunate enough to catch the disease at an early stage so that they will be able to treat it and go on to enjoy a long and healthy life. Yes, that is my heartfelt prayer.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” ~Romans 8:35,37-39 and 28 (NKJV)

Remembering Quentin

“Just one more thing before you leave,
Don’t forget to remember me.”

“Don’t Forget to Remember Me” ~ recorded by Carrie Underwood

“Don’t forget me.” Those were the last words I ever heard our dear friend Quentin Katt say before he lost his battle with cancer one year ago. Quentin passed away on his 72nd birthday, September 13, 2005.

Keen and Quentin met when they were both serving on the Alma City Council, and they became the best of friends. During those stressful years when we were fighting with the County Commissioners and throughout the lawsuit, Quentin Katt was one of Keen’s only friends. Before Quentin died, I had the chance to thank him for being there for Keen during those difficult times. He replied, “I always said, ‘he was my friend.’”

Quentin had a shop with a television and an easy chair out in the garage at his house. It was a place where Quentin’s friends were welcome to drop by and sit a spell anytime. They could always find Quentin in there smoking his pipe. Speaking of which, I’ll never forget the time Keen took our youngest son Kirk across the street to visit Quentin during half time of a Wabaunsee High School basketball game. Apparently, Kirk asked Quentin if he could puff on his pipe, so Quentin let him. I was taking tickets by the entrance that night, and I’ll never forget my little son running towards me with excitement in his voice saying, “Mommy, Mommy! Quentin taught me how to ‘moke!”

Quentin enjoyed the simple things in life, but he was anything but simple. He and Keen would often have deep philosophical conversations. When it came to politics, they couldn’t have been more opposite – but that’s what made their conversations so lively and stimulating. Quentin’s shop was a safe place for Keen to go and let off steam. Quentin was always there to lend an ear and offer a word of sage advice.

Keen learned so much from Quentin. One of the things he learned was a lesson contained in Quentin’s favorite poem – a poem titled “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham,which was published in the program for Quentin’s memorial service.

He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in!

Quentin and his wife Aleta raised six wonderful children; three boys and three girls, who are all living happy, successful lives and raising children of their own. Their daughter, Diana, became a doctor and returned to her hometown to establish a medical clinic.

Quentin’s philosophy of life was described in a wooden plaque that hung on the wall of his garage. “He who dies with the most gold still dies.” At his memorial service, Quentin’s son mentioned that some of his dad’s most cherished possessions were artifacts Keen Umbehr found on his trash route.

I’d like to close with this poem written by William Karnowski, a poet and author from Wamego, who graciously gave me permission to share any of his writings in my column:

Dad
By William J. Karnowski
(From his book of poetry titled: Pushing the Chain)

When your father is alive
You know you might
Die some day

When HE dies
Then YOU believe
It.

When your father is alive,
You hope he really
Is immortal.

When he dies,
You are sure
You are not.

The sad thing is this;
If you are a good man,
When you die,

It will break
Your son’s heart.
I am sure.

*************

Forget you, Quentin? Not a chance! Until we meet again, old friend, we will be remembering you.

Quentin and Keen in Quentin's shop about one year before he passed away

Keen and Quentin's last visit (on our porch)

The Empty Chair

Insights and Inspiration

“But encourage one another day after day. . . .” ~ Hebrews 3:13a

Rejoice that you are more precious than gold
Pray for insight to find why you live
He’ll answer prayer and give power for purpose
As in gratitude with affection you give

~Excerpt from poem titled “Incredibly Valuable” by Patricia Kohls Barrett

******************************

This week I’d like to share some insights and inspiration I’ve received from friends and family. Many thanks to each and every one of you who have held me up in prayer and encouraged me with words of love and support throughout these past few difficult months:

Dear Eileen: In your column "Becoming Me", you told it like it is. You wrote a good column telling how you feel after your surgery. You will be an inspiration to other women who may be facing this kind of surgery . . .This surgery would have floored a lot of women, but you are handling it very well. God has given you a special kind of husband in standing by you and making comments about his love for you. This is all for now.

******************************

Dear Eileen,
Isn’t tragic that the shape of bodies are such a priority when we are looking for spouse, while they contribute so little to our happiness once we have been married for a while? I think quite often if [my wife] had not been in her accident, I may never have realized how much I love her, and how little the shape of her body contributed to my love for her. . . .

[My wife] and I watched “A Fiddler on the Roof” recently. The most poignant part of the movie is where Tevye asked Goldie, his wife, if she loved him. It reinforced the idea that marriage is about commitment and love – our western culture uses it is a by-product of that commitment rather than the other way around.

We continue to pray for you and your family as you journey to “wholeness” . . . .

******************************

Wow Eileen - very real - very helpful - very profound.
You go girl!!

******************************

Beautifully written and very heartfelt, as always, Eileen. I felt you let us "walk in your shoes" for a little while. God Bless you for your wisdom, strength and courage in handling the surgery and new "physical" you. As we know, that is all that has changed, thank goodness!

******************************

Dear Eileen...

You have ploughed through one of the most traumatic/dramatic
operations a woman can have done.

It was smart, it was a preventative strategy, and ~
it was positive for you and your growing family.

There are deep connections which tie us to our body parts.
Especially those parts that are spiritual in their goodness...
the privileged ones that sustain life and nourish our precious babies.

It is how we give ourselves value and purpose...
because we receive so much more as we are giving
from our physical bodies,
our Self adheres to that which is obvious, or seen.

We glance at ourselves in mirrors and confirm that which we see....

So how does a woman who has been a wonderful mother and example
begin to see herself anew?

She does exactly as you are doing right now.
You tear down some things and rebuild.

You cry because you let go....
of incredibly soulful,
physically maternal energies
you once saw yourself as being.

You've come a long way, Baby...
and you'll continue to be the greatest mother,
mother-in-love, and grandmother ever.
Just keep doing what you need to, in order to feel
where you are in the process.

Do not apologize for writing about this!!!

It's real.
It's scary.
It's female.

I learn so much from your strength and honesty...
... and I love you for it.

******************************

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." ~ Lamentations 3:21-24

Pasture burning on the Kansas horizon

Damaged Goods

“As it is written, ‘There is none righteous, not even one . . . for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.'” ~ Romans 3:10, 23

I promise not to keep writing about my mastectomy, but I’d just like to share a few more thoughts I’ve had this past week.

Initially, I cried very few tears over the loss of my breasts because I was so relieved that the cancer had not spread and the doctors didn’t discover any invasive cancer cells in my lymph nodes or breast tissue. But post-traumatic stress is a very real thing, and now it seems I’m making up for lost time! No matter how convinced Keen and I are about the merit of the decision we made, it has still been very traumatic to have part of my anatomy amputated.

Earlier this month we traveled to Kiawah Island, South Carolina, for the annual Van Kirk family reunion. It was a beautiful spot located right on the beach, and we all had a grand time touring historic Charleston, kayaking, swimming, riding the waves, enjoying some delicious seafood and Southern barbecue, and of course, spending time together.

The Van Kirk Family at Kiawah Island, South Carolina

Yet for some reason it was emotionally more difficult for me to have my immediate family see me without my prosthesis. But I didn’t really have any choice since it was hotter than Hades down there and the only way to survive was to dress as lightly as possible!

Eileen "staying cool" in Kiawah

As I continue to adjust to my breast-less chest and the ever-present scars that I see when I look in the mirror, I am reminded of the message contained in the above Bible verse. From a spiritual standpoint, we are all damaged goods. But thank God for Jesus, who paid the ultimate price for our sins and moral failures.

“All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him.” ~ Isaiah 53:6 (NASB)

Although we may strive to “do what Jesus would do” and live godly lives, all too often we fall short of the glory of God. But the size or quantity of sins we’ve committed in our lifetime makes no difference to God, for where sin abounds, grace much more abounds. (Romans 5:20). As long as we accept God’s free gift of forgiveness – by faith – then we are washed completely clean.

“Come now, and let us reason together," says the Lord, "though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.” ~ Isaiah 1:18 (NASB)

A beautiful Christian friend of mine recently sent me a note which emphasized this point in a unique way. “If you look closely,” she wrote, “everyone has scars – some real, some imagined; some physical and some emotional. You have chosen what is important. You chose life and life more abundantly . . . Jesus is the Answer, and He heals all our scars.”

That is so true. My friend Pat Barrett described it this way in her poem titled, “Lessons in Dents and Chips.” This is a short excerpt from that poem:

When I look at scratches and dents
I’m reminded to keep perspective
God uses me to serve Him
Even though I am defective

Just as I must learn to live with my physical “scratches and dents”, we must all learn to accept our personal faults and shortcomings. Most importantly, we need to realize that God loves us, despite our imperfections, and He wants to use our lives to shine forth His love to the world.

“I say to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord; I have no good beside or beyond You.” ~ Psalm 16:2 (Amplified)

Keen II, Keen, Eileen & Kirk Van in Kiawah (try saying that 10 times fast!)

Becoming Me

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, old things have passed away; and behold, all things have become new.” ~II Corinthians 5:17 (NKJV)

The other day I turned on the television just in time to hear a talk show host announce the topic of her upcoming show: “Change your bra and change your life!” Maybe it’s just a sore subject for me, but up until I had my mastectomy, I never noticed what a breast-obsessed world we live in. Then again, as I look back on my years as a budding pre-teen, I recall doing “bust exercises” and chanting a cheer with one unnamed sister. “We must, we must, we must develop our busts! The bigger, the better, the tighter the sweater – we must develop our busts!” (Bring back memories, anyone?) And I still remember the year my mom gave me my first training bra for Valentine’s Day and how I locked myself in the bathroom so I could experiment with tissue enhancements. So I guess most girls are programmed from an early age to aspire to look like their Barbie dolls. It’s like the actresses who proudly parade down the red carpet, as if their breasts are their greatest asset. (Maybe in some cases, they are.) Again, I hope this doesn’t sound like sour grapes, but losing my breasts has definitely given me a new perspective on life. It just seems so superficial to place such great importance on a physical appendage. Change your life, by changing your bra? Give me a break. How about, “Change your heart and change your life!”

“Keep your heart with all vigilance; for from it flow the springs of life.”~Proverbs 4:23 (RSV)

Nevertheless, I must admit that adjusting to life without breasts has been very difficult. It is awkward being a breast-less woman in a breast-filled world. And I can’t help but notice the stares and double-takes I get when I go out in public without my prosthesis. (Apparently a flat chest sticks out more than you might think. Ironic, isn’t it?) But I am determined to find a way to become comfortable with the new shape of my body, because the thought of being ashamed of it is a notion that I simply cannot bear.

The other day I made a trip to Hair Secrets in Topeka, Kansas, to get fitted for my permanent prosthesis (the first one was more lightweight to give me some time to heal), and I must say that I was very pleased with the results. In fact, they look better than my real ones did. After nursing four babies, they weren’t going to win any blue ribbons at the fair, that’s for sure. (Maybe not even an honorable mention!) At any rate, I like having the freedom to choose between wearing the prosthesis or going without. It’s kind of like deciding whether or not to wear make-up. So when I want to dress up, I’ll just strap on my Sunday-go-to-meeting gear. It’s just important for me to be okay with myself either way.

You could also compare it to learning how to become comfortable with your own weight, even if you’re not a perfect size by the world’s standards. I had a friend once who refused to buy herself any new clothes until she lost some weight, and I told her that I thought it was important for her to see herself as “worthy” of a new outfit just the way she was. Then if she wanted to lose weight, fine. I eventually insisted on buying her a new pair of jeans and a pink oxford shirt – just to make my point. We still refer to it as “the pink shirt theory.” Love yourself, wherever you are in life; and accept yourself – regardless of your outward appearance. Don’t attach your worth to your weight! Just as I am not my breasts, none of us are our weight, either!

In Geralyn Lucas’ book, Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy, she expressed the following feelings about her pending surgery: “When I lose my breast I will be stripped of part of what I thought made me a woman, made me desirable. But, I think, I will still be me. Maybe I am like an antique table that is being stripped before being re-varnished. Layers will be peeled away to reveal something beautiful underneath . . . And when there is nothing left to strip, maybe there will be a revelation of a different beauty underneath, one that I never knew existed.”

But as I stated earlier, it has been a difficult adjustment indeed. There’s nothing easy about seeing two horizontal scars where my breasts used to be. A friend of mine who was paralyzed in an accident shared how she had to “mourn – grieve in all the stages,” the loss of the use of her legs. Although my situation seems insignificant by comparison, Keen and I have both had to grieve the loss of the old me – that is, the former shape of my physical body. But I am still the same person on the inside. In fact, if you consider the principle that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” you could even say that I’m a new and improved version. I do feel stronger after this experience, which makes me better prepared for the next trial I may have to face.

“Dear brothers and sisters, whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.” ~James 1:2-4 (NLT)

I’m reminded of the time in the late 80’s when Keen and I opened our little restaurant in Alma called The Back Porch. We thought we had a great idea, but we were never able to turn a profit. In fact, it was costing us more money to keep the doors open, than to shut it down and continue making our monthly payment to the bank. Still, we fought hard to hang on. But we finally faced the harsh reality that the restaurant was slowly sinking our financial ship. Although it was difficult to forfeit our dream and suffer the public humiliation of a failed business, we had to let it go to save our life. The restaurant, like my breasts, had become a liability.

“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
~Matthew 7:19 (NKJV)

Having a supportive spouse has been such a precious gift during this journey. Keen never seems to run out of encouraging words for me. Recently, when he put his hand on my chest he said, “Now I’m closer to your heart.” Another time he said: “Your scars reflect your beauty.” He often reassures me that he is still attracted to me – maybe even more so – and that our moments together are even more meaningful now because of all that we’ve been through.

I have also found that keeping a good sense of humor has helped me during the recovery process. As it says in Proverbs: “A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones.” The Bible also says that the joy of the Lord is your strength, so I am working very hard at maintaining a merry heart and a joyful spirit.

Along these same lines, recently I saw a contestant on the television show, “Last Comic Standing” who seemed to adopt this same philosophy about her severe lisp. Rather than be depressed and embarrassed about her speech impediment, she decided to turn it into something positive. In her comedy routine, she talks about how she attended speech therapy classes as a young girl and they would tell her to repeat words like “wagon” or “tree.” She said: “I can say wagon; I can say tree! How about supercalafragalistic-expialadosish? I seem to be having a little trouble with that word!” So the use of humor can be a very effective tool in taking the sting out of emotional pain.

"More important than talent, strength, or knowledge is the ability to laugh at yourself and enjoy the pursuit of your dreams." ~Amy Grant, Christian singer

One night after my surgery our son Keener decided to play a practical joke on me by hiding behind a door and jumping out to scare me when I walked in the room. Well, it worked – a little too well – and I screamed at the top of my lungs. Keener felt just terrible, apologized and gave me a big hug. So I jokingly chastised him saying: “Be nice to your mom! Just because I have a flat chest doesn’t mean I’m one of the guys!”

Another time I was talking to Keen on the phone at his law office, and he mentioned that he and one of his colleagues dressed exactly alike that day. The colleague was standing right there and commented that the main difference between them was that he was having a bad hair day. (He’s completely bald.) So I told Keen to tell him not to feel bad because I was having a bad chest day. Keen’s colleague replied that hair and chests are two things that are highly overrated.

I’ve discovered that there is one small caveat to my use of humor, however. It seems that I can make jokes about my flat chest, but nobody else can. We learned this lesson the hard way when my sweet, supportive husband thought it was safe to come up with his own joke since he saw that I was able to joke about it. As our three-year-old grandson Gabe would say: “That’s not punny!” When I explained the rules to my brother Joe, he said: “I certainly respect your right to make all the jokes, but I reserve the right to repeat them!” I don’t have a problem with that – as long as the jokes originate from me!

Geralyn Lucas chose to have immediate reconstruction surgery after her mastectomy, and later she agreed to pose for a special breast cancer survivor’s edition of Self Magazine. In her book she described her experience this way: “I never existed as a beautiful woman until I saw myself that July day . . . In every photo in the past, I hated my nose, my cheeks, my smile. Now, when there is a huge defect, I was the most beautiful. I had set out to inspire other women that they could be beautiful after this surgery and I ended up convincing myself.”

As for me, I may or may not decide to have reconstruction surgery at some point in the future. But if I do, it will be after I have learned to accept myself and the new shape of my body – just the way it is.

So if you see me out and about sometime without my prosthesis, then you’ll know that you caught me on a day when I mustered up the courage to simply be “me.”

July 3, 2006 ~ My 48th Birthday

A Moment in Time

“And Gideon the son of Joash returned from battle before the sun [was up]....” ~ Judges 8:18 (KJV)

Rick Warren, author of the #1 Bestseller, The Purpose Driven Life, recently shared his belief that life is like two rails on a railroad track, as opposed to a series of hills and valleys. “At all times,” he stated, “you have something good and something bad in your life. No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on. And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for. You can focus on your purpose, or you can focus on your problems.”

Our family has witnessed this philosophy being played out multiple times during the past year. No matter how many bad things life has thrown our way, we have always had plenty of good things to be thankful for. This week, I am happy to be able to share some good news, brought to us courtesy of our kindhearted daughter-in-law, Erin.

As you may recall, Erin gave birth to our first granddaughter, Emma Eileen, on May 22nd. Emma was born prematurely and had to stay in the hospital for about a week, but she is doing really well now, thank God. While I was trying to figure out when I might be able to meet little Emma, Erin called with a big surprise. She said that Jared was scheduled to return home from Iraq on July 7, and she offered to fly all of us down to Mississippi to surprise him when he got off the plane! Needless to say, we were immediately on board (pardon the pun), and humbly accepted her generous offer.

Keen, Keener, Kirk and I all flew down the day before Jared was scheduled to arrive. (Josh and Lisa couldn’t make it since their own one-month old daughter, Katelyn Seraphina, had just been released from Children’s Mercy Hospital. She is also doing well – in fact, she just rolled over by herself for the first time – several months before most babies do!) I was so excited about the trip that I couldn’t sleep a wink the night before, but I made up for it on the ride to the airport and while traveling in the airplane.

When we arrived at Erin’s home, Grandpa and Uncles Keen and Kirk immediately started rough housing and wrestling with Asher and Gabe. Sounds of laughter and excited screams filled the air, as the boys were jostled and held upside down by their feet. Of course, the adults ran out of gas long before the boys did!

"Put me down, Uncle Keen!"

Uncle Kirk with Asher and Gabe

Meeting Emma for the first time was a sheer delight. She is such a sweet and beautiful little baby. Jared commented that if they dressed her in blue no one could tell if she was a boy or a girl – but I totally disagree! Emma definitely looks like a girl!
I so enjoyed holding her and looking into that pretty little face. I even got to feed her a bottle. Erin said she’ll take a bottle from anyone except her. Emma may be young, but she knows her momma, and when Momma is holding her, she won’t settle for anything but the real deal. Babies are so much smarter than we give them credit for!


Gramma Eileen holding Emma Eileen

Erin was able to reserve us a room at the Navy Lodge located right on base and within walking distance of their apartment. After a great night’s sleep, Keen and I walked to their apartment the next morning to make pancakes for the boys. When we arrived, we expected to see a flurry of activity with everyone getting ready for Jared’s arrival, but no one was stirring – not even a mouse. Then my cell phone rang; it was Erin calling from upstairs. “Are you guys downstairs?” she asked. When I said yes, she replied, “I got some bad news last night; I’ll be right down.” My heart just sank. I immediately imagined the worst case scenario that Jared’s arrival was postponed and we would miss him altogether since we were scheduled to fly out early the following day.

As it turned out, Jared’s flight had been delayed in Germany, but thankfully they were still scheduled to arrive that day, just five hours later than they originally planned.

The hours seemed to drag on, especially for Erin and her friend Amy, who were both anxiously awaiting their husbands’ return. Finally it was time to depart, and we drove to the Stennis Space Station (where Jared normally works) to pick up his Jeep. We still had some time to spare, so we decided to drive by Jared and Erin’s old apartment in Bay St. Louis – the one that had been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been bulldozed over yet and we could still see their possessions through the broken windows. I even walked to the front door and took a few pictures of what used to be their kitchen and living room. It was quite shocking to see the devastation.

At any rate, we made it back to the air base in plenty of time, all decked out in our matching t-shirts that I had made up at a store in Manhattan called Thread. We had a picture of Jared holding his gun put on the front of the shirts with the words, “Welcome Home, Jared/Daddy.” But I couldn’t put that picture on little Emma’s, so her little t-shirt had a picture of her wearing an outfit that had “Daddy’s girl” on the front of it. Then it said, “Welcome Home Daddy! I love you!” Since it would be the first time Jared met Emma, we jokingly thought about several other slogans we could have put on her shirt, such as: “Who’s My Daddy?” and “Where Have You Been All My Life, Daddy?”

While we gathered at the air base for a family photo before Jared’s arrival, a group of officers were standing nearby smirking at the sight of eight individuals of various sizes and ages wearing t-shirts with Jared’s blown-up muscle man picture plastered on the front. I made the comment that Jared was probably going to be mortified and they all broke out laughing.
Then they asked if their photographer could take a picture for their command. So the photographer took a group shot, and then he asked if he could take a close-up of one of the shirts. Well, I was wearing my new prosthesis and I wasn’t too sure if I was “even”, so I directed him to Keen’s chest instead of mine. The photographer also took a close-up shot of little Emma in her “Welcome Home, Daddy” shirt.



Smile, Emma!

The excitement continued to mount as the wives and children of the servicemen waited with great anticipation for the plane’s arrival. “Here it comes!” someone shouted. So we all ran outside and watched the mammoth green plane descend from the evening sky, just as the orange sun was setting on the horizon. It gave me goose bumps and brought tears to nearly everyone’s eyes.

After a short time, they opened the gates wide so all the families could rush to hug their loved ones. Keen said he didn’t expect to feel so much emotion when Jared stepped off the plane, but he couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. He said it was like watching Jared be born all over again. I, too, felt a rush of joy, relief and pride, while I busily snapped pictures and attempted to capture that magical moment in time.

The first person Jared saw was Erin walking towards him carrying his little six-week-old daughter, Emma.
She looked like such a little peanut in her daddy’s strong arms – and what a contrast between Jared in his military fatigues and Emma in her lily white outfit. Together at last!

Asher and Gabe followed right behind to hug their daddy’s legs and welcome him home.
One by one, the rest of us worked our way to Jared, much to his surprise. “Erin made it all possible,” I said as I hugged him and cried. Although he was happy to see us, he was more than a little embarrassed by the array of T-shirts bearing his image. He said he would never hear the end of it from the other guys in his unit. (And he was right.)

After arriving back home, Keen cooked some delicious rib eye steaks on the grill and we all enjoyed spending time together and hearing about Jared’s experiences overseas. He was definitely in the thick of things, so we are very grateful that he made it home safely.

But no one is more grateful than Jared’s wife, Erin,
Who delivered a baby while he was away,
And two little boys named Asher and Gabe,
Who missed their daddy more than words can say.


Welcome Home, Jared. We are so proud of you...and we love you!

“You shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you and your son and your daughter....” ~ Deuteronomy 16:11a (NKJV)

A Shelter From the Storm

"For Thou hast been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat....” ~ Isaiah 25:4a (RSV)

This week I’d like to share something Keen’s sister wrote during a thunderstorm that took place the day before my surgery. ~ Eileen

Winds Swirl
By Kihm Umbehr Blount
June 20, 2006

Winds swirl.
Trees bend.
Flowerpots sway
Then are thrown back and forth.
Dark clouds mingle with blue sky.
Then dark overtakes the light.

The sound of the wind is more forceful now.
Is it the leaves or the sound of wind itself?
The trees and leaves look like the waves –
The ocean of the sea in a storm –
green rolling thunderous grass.

One knows not when it will lessen or crescendo.
We who are stationary are at the wind’s mercy.
Until we sway with a blast and are forced backwards
Bending our head into the winds in order to walk forward.

Deep rolling sound in the distance…
Threatening future awaits.
Light enough to write by
Dark enough for a brief shadow.
Will it continue?
Will it stop?
Will it lessen?
Will it crescendo?

Nothing physical yet broken,
No large item yet moved.

It is written – “Jesus slept.”
Slumber of the deepest kind.
Cares…non-existent.
My watchful eye raises every moment –
Anticipating the next forceful upsurge.
I am unaware of where the end will be.

At least the wind is cool
Could even say refreshing.
Yesterday the sun beat down,
Searing flesh when touched to the physical.
This…now… is a welcome reprieve.
A lull now…
What seemed so strong a little before
Now appears managed to me.
THIS wind is familiar
In the short time since it began.
Does my own fear lessen in this midst?
Unthinkable that I could slumber as He!

Fine mist now – the smell of rain
Do I wish for a downpour –
To joy in the sun’s rays at its end?
Doesn’t the wind always get strong
Before the rain comes?

All is touched and swirled by the wind.
Long standing trees sway.
Small grass slivers slide to and fro.
Dust is thrown in the direction of the wind.
A light wood door slams down
After being lifted by the wind.
Am I too light?
Will I be slammed down?

It’s not quiet yet,
But a little lessening.
Calmness returns.
Slight breeze.
Silence almost deafening now.

Long, long roll of thunder-
Closer now.
Is the worst approaching?
One last plunge
Before the deluge?
My questions push me
To the edge of the unknown.
Can I relinquish my fear to the One who made the wind?

Psalms.
“My help comes from the Lord.
Whom shall I fear?”
He’s the Maker of heaven and earth.
That is the wind!
Whom shall I be afraid?

Sunlight on the clouds
Brightening the horizon.
A visual reminder that
Maybe the end is near.

I see this with my eyes
And hear the thunder in the distance.
Do my senses point the way
Or lead me to fear?
I could trust them,
I thought.
Now, I believe they must
Be tamed and guided.

Flash of light.
Quicker than a second.
Are my eyes just more attuned
To watch for them?
Are my senses heightened?

Now – a triple play.
All three combined.
Wind, sound and light.
The sound of sure doom.

I walk to the edge
Of the physical ground.
I venture out slowly.
I had been motionless
Not gripping in fear
But surefooted
In the doorway.

I hear now the air conditioner.
Familiar and predictable.
Reminder of what
I know for certain.
Was it there
In the force of the wind?
I missed it, and was not
In tune with the known.

Other life moves across
The green ocean.
Eating as they go along.

We are returning
To the familiar.
If they go forward
With their life,
Can I use that
As an example
To go forward also?

Just one more question for me.
Yes…
Movement is paramount.
Standing frozen
Stops all life,
Thought,
And action.

I will move inside now.
Away from the breeze
That now blows.
I hear a bird sing
And bugs chatter
In the grass.
The worst has passed if
The creations of God
Sing!

Inside the dwelling-
Security.
This physical example,
A correlation
To the spiritual emotions
I have just been through.
I am held
In the Palm of His Hand.
I am hid in the Shelter of His wing.
I believe this to be real
And can tell myself
To Trust.

The sound of the roll
May be loud outside,
But in here
Is barely audible.
My senses are corralled
Inside the Palm of His wing.

She missed it.
She missed it all.
She slumbered.
The day before
Her anticipated storm.
Her senses dulled.
Confident that she is in
The Palm of His Wing

The wind will blow.
His wing will protect.
Outside sounds, though loud,
The song of love
Focuses her
Far away.
The roll of possible threat
In her distance,
Not in the forefront
Of her mind.
She sees and feels
The cup of the
Palm of His hand.
She knows and
She believes
Tomorrow will
Also be shielded.

“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress; He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they had quiet, and He brought them to their desired haven.

How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.”

~ Psalm 107:28-30 (RSV); Psalm 36:7 (NKJV)

Eileen and Kihm on day of Kihm's departure 10 days after my surgery

Kansas sky on country road near our home

Scars and All

“Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people both now and forevermore.”
~Psalms 125:1-2

As I sit down to write this column, it is 2:45 in the morning on Saturday, July 1, 2006. My surgery took place as scheduled ten days ago, and I am happy to report that everything went fine.

During the days leading up to my surgery, I had several emotional meltdowns. The fear and anxiety seemed insurmountable. One night I was crying and I told Keen that I didn’t want to lose my breasts. He replied, “You’re not losing your breasts, you’re gaining your life.”

“No matter what might be happening in your life right now, take a deep breath, relax and let your thoughts be still. Just as darkness gives way to dawn, so does despair create a new beginning. Never allow yourself to forget that it is from the darkest moment of the night that each new sunrise is born.”

Kate Nowak, Live More Abundantly Productions
http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com

One of the ways I believe the good Lord readied me for the big day was to send people across my path to offer just the right words of encouragement, such as several breast cancer survivors who visited with me before my surgery. When my sister-in-law Kihm heard me say that I felt like I was “doing this to myself” since I had other medical options, she reminded me that I wasn’t doing this to myself, I was doing it for myself. Our oldest son Jared called from Iraq to offer his support, and he emphasized how fortunate I was to be taking this step as a preventative measure. My sister Mary recounted something our mother said while sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office during her own battle with cancer. Mary said that Mom pointed out another patient and commented, “She’s lucky – she only has to get a mastectomy.” Although that statement may sound oxymoronic, it really isn’t, because my mom would have done anything to “only” have to get a mastectomy. After hearing that story, I thought to myself: “If Mom were here, she wouldn’t want me to feel sorry for myself because I was losing my breasts; she’d want me to be thankful that was all I was losing.”

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly." ~Richard Bach, American Author

Monarch and Milkweed ~ Photograph by Patricia Barrett

The night before surgery my sister Peggy called to let me know that she was thinking of me and praying for me. Before she hung up, she said, “Just remember that you have been the person you are for 47 years, and this surgery isn’t going to change that. You are going to be the same person that we love the day after the surgery as you were the day before your surgery.” For some reason, that was a real light bulb moment for me. It also tied in perfectly with something our son, Keen II, shared with me the morning of my surgery when he called to wish me well. He said that recently he’d been contemplating the concept of happiness and he came up with this quote: “Happiness is the ability to maintain a positive attitude despite circumstances that are beyond your control.” The combination of Peggy and Keener’s comments helped me realize that this surgery didn’t have to change me any more than I let it. If I choose to let it depress me, it will. And if I choose not to let it affect how I feel about myself, then it won’t.

“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he...” ~ Proverbs 23:7a (NKJV)

“Your mental attitude will lead you into the light or hold you in darkness. It will lead you to hope or despair, to a glorious success or a miserable failure, and it is entirely within your own power to choose which it shall be."
~ Orison Swett Marden, Early 20th Century Success Writer

With the help of God and all the many angels He sent my way, I finally felt prepared for surgery, and I realized that even the pre-surgery meltdowns were a necessary part of the grieving process.

On June 21st, Kihm drove me to St. Francis Hospital, with Keen and Kirk following right behind. After checking in, I underwent a pre-op procedure where they injected radioactive dye into my left breast in preparation for a sentinel node biopsy. That’s when they remove some lymph nodes from the affected breast in order to test for microscopic cancer cells. If the pathology report indicates lymph node involvement, then further treatment (in the form of chemotherapy and/or radiation) is required to combat the spread of the cancer.

Eventually the moment of truth arrived, and I was wheeled off to the operating room around 4:30 p.m. Although I was scared, I felt very peaceful and confident about my decision, and I was anxious to get the surgery over with.

When I woke up in the recovery room, I was pretty groggy and the room was spinning a little bit. I remember asking if I could talk with Dr. Berntsen. She came to my bedside to tell me that everything went fine and the lymph nodes did not appear to be cancerous. (A few days later the pathology report thankfully confirmed that the lymph nodes were clear and there was no invasive cancer found in any of the breast tissue.)

After they moved me to my room, Keen, Kihm, and Kirk were all waiting for me.
Keen and Kirk Van

The first thing I remember was Keen’s smiling face by my bedside. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You did this for us; for me, for our sons, and for our grandchildren. Thank you.”

I felt such a sense of relief after the surgery was over, that the loss of my breasts almost seemed like a non-issue. I was just so happy that I had come out on the other side, and I only needed minimal medication for the pain. After Keen and Kirk left for home, Kihm and I stayed up talking – or should I say, I stayed up talking, and Kihm listened! Bless her heart, I’m sure that she was exhausted and would have welcomed a good night’s sleep, but instead she sat by my bedside the whole night while I verbally processed all of my thoughts and feelings. Then when I was finally ready to wind down, Kihm read to me from a book I brought along.

Even though I only slept for two hours that night, when I woke up the next morning I still felt pretty good. Then Keen stopped by to see me, and we went for a stroll around the halls of the hospital. When Dr. Berntsen arrived, she said that everything looked fine, and since I was able to walk around then I could be released.

Going Home with flowers from friends Gary & Linda, and Mike & Julie

After returning home, Nurse Kihm did an amazing job of taking care of me. She kept track of my pain meds and basically waited on me hand and foot. Not only did she take care of me, but she took care of Kirk who had to have his wisdom teeth removed two days after my surgery. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without her.

“Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” ~John 15:13 (RSV)

Eileen and Kihm after surgery

The next major milestone came when it was time for me to remove the surgical bandages and observe the scars on my chest for the very first time. I started out by taking little peeks, and worked my way up to the full view. I must admit that it was a sight for sore eyes as parts of my chest looked pretty disfigured. But I just thought, it is what it is, and I reminded myself of all the valid reasons I had for doing this. Besides, I didn’t go in for cosmetic surgery.

After returning home, my next challenge was to show the scars to Keen. When we went for a morning walk, I forewarned him that the scars were ugly. Right away he stopped me and said that I should never refer to them as ugly, because they represented the battle I fought and won. “Your scars are your badges of courage,” he said.

Later on when I hesitatingly revealed my chest to Keen, he looked at me with gentle eyes of admiration and smiled. “Your scars are not ugly,” he replied. “They’re beautiful . . . just beautiful.” Then, he put his hand over his heart and softly said, “It’s an honor to look at your scars.”

As the tears streamed down my face, my heart overflowed with gratitude to God for blessing me with a husband who, like Him, loved and accepted me . . . scars and all.

“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” ~Proverbs 16:24 (NASB)