The Big Red Button

I've told so many people about this image in my mind that I decided to create it and post it here for you. (I'm pretty sure there is some reason I'm not supposed to do this, since it's STAPLES' image for their advertisements, so I'm giving them credit right here and now for the original.) This is adapted from STAPLES' big red button.

The edited version is my idea.

When I hear things that are clearly bulls**t, or when I am with someone whose company I can barely tolerate, I now see this button in my mind's eye.

I push it, and it makes a sound that has no word to describe it. "Beep!" is as close as I can get, but it's far more gutteral and dismissive than that.

Once that button is pushed, a trap door opens up below the person, and away they go - at least, in my mind's eye.

It's very satisfying.

I felt the need to share that with you. Feel free to use it, when necessary.

Hope and Empowerment Event

Michelle Tucker of The Henry Tucker Foundation (www.henrytuckerfoundation.org and

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/henrytucker)
is planning a Hope and Empowerment Event on the 20th of March at the Jewish Community Center in Indianapolis, Indiana.

This event will bring together families living with childhood cancer and medical professionals from St. Vincent and Riley hospitals. Important topics relating to childhood cancer will be presented and discussed, and a variety of speakers will be there. I am going to be one of them.

On Sunday, the 21st, we are going to be treated to a screening of the soon-to-be-released movie, "Letters to God," and Patrick Doughtie (who wrote & co-directed the movie in memory of his son, Tyler) will be there with us for this exciting event. Patrick will be the keynote speaker at the conference.

Save the date - more information is forthcoming!

And please, if you are a praying person, pray for me, that I will be led to speak what God wants me to say, and to do it in a way that honors Him. The idea is to raise support and awareness for the cancer community, and to encourage HOPE.

You can check out the movie's web site at

www.letterstogodthemovie.com  

and see the facebook fan page at www.facebook.com/LetterstoGodthemovie

A Video of Hope

I have written before about a group called griefHaven (www.griefhaven.org). They are a non-profit organization whose purpose is

"(1) to provide hope and support to any parent who loses a child; (2) to support siblings, family members, and friends impacted by the death of a child; (3) to educate the public about the loss of a child, letting them know how they can support parents in rebuilding their lives; (4) to educate and collaborate with professionals who deal with the death of a child; and, (5) to provide ways for parents to honor their child."

I ordered their DVD called "Portraits of Hope" shortly after Katie passed away. It was very helpful at the time, very real, raw, and encouraging at the same time. Parents whose children have died from cancer, suicide, accident, stillbirth, gunshot, murder and so on speak candidly about how it felt in the early days of their grief process, and how they are surviving and finding meaning in their new lives. Professional chaplains, counselors and pastors also speak about the realities of grieving for a child.

I've only watched it once or twice, but today, as I was getting ready to send it to a friend, I decided to watch it again, to see if it had the same impact and relevance that I remembered from before. It does. I recommend it to anyone who is bereaved from the death of a child, to family and friends of those grieving, to pastors, caregivers, etc. If you click on the link to their website, you can order a copy - it costs only $15.00, and is well worth it.

Music Speaks to the Soul

I am having a crazy-busy week. It might not seem so compared to the lives of some of you, but it does to me. I am working on a number of things, and I don't seem to multitask well any longer.

This makes me feel like I am fragmenting into many pieces, and flying in several directions under centrifugal force. I am not sure I am getting anywhere in a linear sense, but I am getting somewhere in an energetic sense.

Taxes. Financial aid paperwork. Financial planning. Volunteer applications. Writing. Guild work. Sewing. Travel planning. Laundry. Cleaning. Telephone follow-up. Email follow-up. Mail follow-up. Paying bills. Brainstorming. Resource-gathering. Praying. Reading. Listening. Setting appointments. Attending appointments. Haircut.

The one thing that is calm right now is music.

Last night, Gregg, David and I went to hear Itzhak Perlman perform with, and conduct, the Seattle Symphony orchestra. The evening was "Mainly Mozart," which is a series offered by the Symphony each year. We bought tickets to 3 concerts, and in doing so, we saved money. We also got to customize our series. It's fun to do, because we sit together with the catalog and ask one another what music and performers we most want to hear in the coming season; then we put our own package together. We allowed David to choose for us this year.

Last year, we signed up for 3 concerts, and on one of the occasions, a performer had to substitute for the headliner. Fortunately, the sub was SUPERB. I mean, he moved us deeply with his mastery of the violin...and he was playing a Stradivarius!

As we listened to the gifted Mr. Perlman last night, I was struck by the differences between his playing and the young artist we heard on the violin last year. I thought, Perhaps this is what would be the difference between making love with a man in his 20s and a man in his 60s. The young man played with strength and sensitivity, passion and energy. His performance was kinetic and breathtaking; it was awe-inspiring. By contrast, Mr. Perlman played with such innate knowledge and experience as to make his performance look nearly effortless, like an extension of his breathing and his being. So deep is his awareness and understanding of the music - and the instrument - that he appeared to be one with them both. He seemed to be participating in the music, rather than creating sounds. The word "maestro" comes to mind, in a full and complete sense.

As I was listening to the music, I recalled a clip that I saw last week of the Gospel singer Wintley Phipps, speaking about music as a universal language, and about God's work in his life. Mr. Phipps was speaking on the set of the upcoming movie, "Letters to God," which will be released in April. Please, if you have a few minutes, watch this clip and hear his voice. And if you are ready to be moved, watch the trailer for the movie. I have shed tears over both of these clips. There are several others on the movie's site under the tab, "On-Set Devos" that are inspiring and worth watching. I hope to have more news for you about the movie's premiere soon.

Music is a gift in our lives. I am so thankful that there are artists who are willing to work to create such beauty and inspiration, and to share it with others (like our friend Linda Watson, who is an opera singer). And I am thankful for the privilege of hearing Mr. Perlman last night, and sharing it with David and Gregg.

Good "Guild News"

The most recent issue (Winter 2010) of Seattle Children's Hospital's "Guild News" arrived in the mail today. On the second page is an article about Katie's Comforters Guild, including a color photo of our quilts. I don't have an online link, so I scanned my copy:

Thanks to the Editor, Keith Mack, for writing the piece and sharing the news about our Guild.


Guild Members, please look for your copy in the mail!

"Be Still, & Know That I AM GOD"

"Be

still

and know

that

I AM God!"

(Psalm 46: 11)

A Donation from a Wonderful Teacher and Her Class

A lovely lady, who I met through blogging, is a teacher in the midwest. She and her class made a batch of quilts and sent them to Katie's Comforters Guild for donation to Seattle Children's Hospital. A HUGE THANK YOU to those precious students and their thoughtful teacher!

Today, David had the day off from school (in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.), so he accompanied me to help take photos for D.R.'s class. I made a movie of the photos for them. Here it is.

"People gain so much hope

when they know they are

not experiencing something

alone." - Joyce Rupp

Bake One Batch of Mini-Bundt Cakes...

...set a special table, add friends, potluck appetizers, French wine, coffee and clafoutis...

and mix gently. Add a movie...and enjoy.

I hope you have a great weekend!

Don't Call Chocoholics Anonymous...

During Thanksgiving vacation, I went shopping with my mom along the main street of Palm Desert, which is called El Paseo. Along this street are many beautiful boutiques, and a certain high-priced kitchen store (one of a national chain). Since mom needed to find some napkin rings, we decided to browse through the store, and possibly pick up some ideas for Thanksgiving dinner.

I found an item that I do not need - well, I found LOTS of items I don't need - but one of them made me crazy with desire. I went back to the condo and told Gregg about it; he persuaded me to wait and think about it until we got home, so I did.

And then I went to the Seattle branch of the high-priced kitchen store, and bought it. Here it is:

See what I mean? Would you have been able to resist such beauty?

So yesterday, I baked lovely, bite-sized Ghirardelli chocolate bundt cakes (from scratch) in that irresistible pan. They are adorable.

And today, I made chocolate ganache and frosted them. I may have been hungry when I did this.

You can't really make out the adorable, detailed shape of each bundt anymore. I may have gotten a bit carried away.

Chocolate ganache likes to drip. I like the drips; they look like a chocolate fountain is at work. As one thing led to another, I got sort of lost "in the zone," as if I were painting. (I majored in painting in college, in case you didn't know. And you can see that I am not making a living as a painter.)

Now, be nice. They don't look that bad in person, and they taste great (I had to sample one).

And no one needs to call Chocoholics Anonymous. I am going to share these with a group of women while we watch "Julie & Julia" tonight.

"Sky Blue & Black" (Jackson Browne)

Though this song is about a breakup, it says (particularly the last verse) so much of how I feel about Katie's death. I have played - and sung along with - this song hundreds of times since she passed.

The above video contains a clip of Browne, explaining what the song means to him. If you like it, here is another version of it:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHoWsrECE6w

Good News

There is good news over at the Katie Gerstenberger Endowment blog.

Goodwill Article

We visited the fabulous, new Goodwill store in Silverdale on Sunday, and donated 2 Hefty bags full of our clothes. The store was light, bright, clean, and it felt like we were on a treasure hunt. We browsed all through the store, and I bought a covered casserole in my grandmother's (antique) English bone china pattern; it has a couple of tiny chips on the rim, but the lid covers them. The people who worked there were very courteous. Goodwill is a wonderful organization.

A couple of years ago, shortly after Katie passed away, I wrote this posting about a bequest that she made. After we learned that she was going to die, she wrote her will, by hand, leaving half of her savings account to charity. The charity she chose was Goodwill. They printed a story about it in their newsletter at the time.

In case you missed the posting, you might want to travel back in time and read it; if you don't want to do that, I am posting a scan of the newsletter article here. If you want to enlarge it for reading, simply click on the image:

(If you know me, you know that I don't use the term "lost her battle with cancer." In fact, I don't consider it a battle, and I don't think she lost. However, I know that the people at Goodwill meant only great kindness and appreciation, and I didn't correct their wording.)

What a girl she was. I love her so much!

At Hopeful Parents Today

I'm over at Hopeful Parents today.

A Collage of Good Memories

Sky Watch Sunrise

I'm not a photographer by trade, nor a member of "Sky Watch Friday," but this is the sight that greeted me as I was sipping my first cup of coffee this morning.

It looked as if there was a cloud-hammock, hung in the sky, over Mount Rainier; molten gold flowed on the surface of Puget Sound.

What a gift.

May your day be laced with moments of beauty.

Good Guild News

Check
out
the
good news
over at
Katie's Comforters Guild's blogspot.

Being Present to What Is...Even When It's Broken

Yesterday, my blogging friend Elizabeth wrote a beautiful piece that inspired me very much. Elizabeth's blog, a moon, worn as if it had been a shell, is listed on my sidebar; I encourage you to visit her there. She's a Hopeful Parent, a wonderful writer, a humorous and honest woman.

Elizabeth and I have some interesting things in common. One of them is the fact that her daughter, Sophie is the EXACT same age as Katie - same birthday, same year. This gives me a special affection for her.

Recently, there was an exchange on Hopeful Parents, and Elizabeth's recent posting about it was luminously beautiful. In her post, she brought up L'Arche Communities, founded by Jean Vanier. One of their famous staff residents was Henri Nouwen, a gifted Catholic priest and writer. This brought up memories in me of first reading Nouwen's works, and learning of his move, from the heights of academia, to live in a community of mentally and physically disabled people. When I first read about it, I didn't understand the move. I think I understand it better, now.

Moving to a life of service from a life of worldly achievements and grandeur:  whose message does that remind you of? It reminds me of Jesus, talking to the rich young man, telling him to sell his goods, give to the poor, and that in so doing, he would receive treasure in heaven.

The Hopeful Parents discussion apparently had to do with disagreement over the use of the  word "broken," as well as the words "resignation" and "acceptance." I confess here that I didn't read the discussion; I do not feel called to enter into it, though Elizabeth's posting impelled me to reply to her.

Having shared the gift of the Eucharist, the word "broken" does not offend me at all.

"As they were eating, he took a loaf, and after the blessing, he broke it; then he gave it to the disciples, saying, 'Take and eat this, it means my body' (Matt. 26: 26). In other versions, Jesus said, "This is my body, which is given for you" (Luke 22).

Katie and David @ Katie's 11th Birthday dinner, March 2006, Il Fornaio

In the world of childhood cancer, there is a great deal of brokenness to be faced and lived into. Brokenness is everywhere: broken bodies, broken health, broken lives, hopes and dreams, broken paradigms, broken childhood, broken families. Facing our brokenness seems to me to be part of facing our humanness. Broken things are not necessarily consigned to the trash; they can be useful and instructive.

One of our most painful discussions after Katie's surgery centered around the enormous scar that ran the length and width of her abdomen, from the hollow of her throat past her belly button, and from side to side, including scars from surgical drains. Being a very pretty girl of 12, Katie did not like to see any imperfection in her body.

It was painful to see her rejection of this part of her journey, but I understood her feelings. At her age, I think I would have felt the same way. I told her that the scar was a symbol of her survival, and so, it was beautiful, to me. But I could not make her see it that way. The best we could do was to assure her that it would fade. And it did fade somewhat, but it would always have been part of her body.

We are all broken; it's a broken world. I am broken now, in ways I couldn't have imagined, before. It just IS. I don't know what to do about it; I certainly can't "fix" myself, anymore than I could cure cancer, or bring Katie back from the dead. I am simply trying to learn to live with it, with grace, with love. It's not "pretty" - not at all. But when we are aware of our brokenness, perhaps we can let in a bit of light, a bit of help, from beyond ourselves. Perhaps this is the point: humility, freedom, letting go.

All I know is that I learned more, and served more lovingly, in my utter helplessness in the face of Katie's cancer, than in all of my striving and reading and learning up to that point. None of my efforts made me into the person I wanted to be; only showing up in the moment, accompanying my family on our journey into hell, taught me this. And even that was not through any sufficiency of my own; it was precisely because I was not sufficient, not in control, out of answers and solutions, that I could listen and act freely and openly.

All of this makes me think again of the contemplative way of seeing, and being in the world. A recent posting from Richard Rohr:

"What does this moment, this naked now, have to teach me?

"Non-dual thinking is the most accurately descriptive term I can find for contemplation. Not necessarily inspiring, but accurate! It is a different mind, a different way of seeing and hearing which does not divide the field of the moment, but lets the whole moment, as it is, come toward you. It allows each moment to be an epiphany and its own kind of manifestation.

"What happens in contemplative prayer is, now and then, by the grace of God, your field of vision opens up and clears out...

"You don’t take control too quickly by explaining, fixing, controlling, categorizing, or needing to fully understand right now. Your mind is able to simply say, “It is what it is. Let this person or event come toward me and teach me what it needs to teach me, and give me what it needs to give me, and take from me what it needs to take from me.”  - Adapted from Exploring the Naked Now webcast

Happy New Year!

View from the Peak to Peak Gondola, Whistler, B.C.

Happy New Year!

We spent Christmas Eve with my family at my parents' house. It was wonderful to see our nephew, Phil, who now lives in San Francisco, as well as my brother, Jim, and sister-in-law Caroline.

Christmas morning was spent here at home, and in the afternoon, we drove to Gregg's brother's house, to celebrate with the Gerstenbergers and our extended family. My parents joined us there, as they are always included in the Gerstenberger Christmas celebrations.

I love being part of a large family.

We got to visit and catch up with sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, great-nieces and great-nephews. It was wonderful to be together. We thought of those who weren't there, particularly Katie and Signe. I pray that they are together, celebrating with the many Kvinslands who have also gone ahead, including Auntie Bernice and Grandma K.

The day after Christmas, we left for a brief vacation in Whistler, B.C. with my brother and sister-in-law. We rented a condo near the base of Blackcomb Mountain. Gregg, David, Jim and Caroline are all skiers. Three of them are AVID skiers.
I have never been on skis in my life.

At the age of 50, I was talked into taking a lesson.

Here I am at the base of Whistler Mountain with David and Gregg, just before I joined my class.

Here is my class after lunch, on the deck of the Whistler Mountain Roundhouse. Our instructor, Elisabeth, is at left. She was awesome. In the class were two young ladies from Germany, who are both au pairs for American families. Two of the students were immigrants to Canada from South Africa. One student was from China, and the other was from Ohio. It was a very nice group of people, and we went from not knowing how to put on our skis to riding up the "magic carpet," skiing down the gentle slope, and linking turns. It was a great day! (Hint: I'm the shortest one in the photo)

It was so much fun that I decided to go ahead and take a second lesson the next day. This was the class, Level 2, after lunch on the same deck at the Roundhouse. Fortunately, the sweet German girls were in my class again; they made it more fun, and encouraged me. In this class, there were two Australians and the rest were Americans, from as far away as Florida.

On the second day, we reviewed some aspects of the first lesson, and then took it up a notch:  to the chair lift. This was a big advancement, from not knowing how to buckle my rented ski boots! And the second day was icy, so it was much harder to feel in control. I learned how to fall, and how to get up. I learned how much "muscle" simply stopping can take, when you are having trouble holding an edge. I learned that I don't like going fast yet, and that I will not want to ski in icy conditions, unless I have much more skill and experience.

The second day was much harder and less fun than the first, but looking back, I have a sense of accomplishment for trying, and for getting as far along as I did. The teaching was excellent, and the groups of students couldn't have been nicer. Everyone we met at Whistler seemed happy to be there, employees and guests alike. It's an amazingly beautiful place. I think the Olympians are going to have a blast there!

Gregg, David and Caroline, about to start down the "Symphony Express."

Jim, ready to go.

Caroline on the Gondola.

David on the Peak-to-Peak Gondola.

Trees in the village at night.

We had a delightful dinner at a French restaurant. Thanks, Kappa & Grandma!

Just before we headed home, I caught a flu-bug, and have spent most of the past couple of days in bed. I'm sorry to say that New Year's Eve was spent on the couch, watching "The Tudors," instead of partying with our friends. Gregg stayed home with me, and David went to the party without us. Today I am starting to feel better, but missing another party, so as not to infect anyone else.

I hope you had a Happy New Year's celebration, and wish you a healthy and Happy New Year!