A quick update.

I’m here when I want be sleeping like the women I envy, even though I know desire gets me nowhere.

I envy her the quiets breaths her He would listen for, as He watched making sure bad dreams didn’t interrupt the peaceful place He’d prepared.

Suppose she offers him the same sanctuary. I hope so.

Anyway, just wanted y’all to know why I’m in and out of WordPress. My father begins a new treatment for a whole new set of distractions.

I can’t be with him like I want to be, because of the responsibilities I have for my own little family. Dad understands and has my middle and baby sisters with him this month. However, you guys know I am unsettled with the arrangement.

I have moments where I feel like my best isn’t enough.

When I fail at being human and not fighting for what I need.

What does obtaining get us?

Maybe as we are is best.

We understand this as we are space. It seems to work. It isn’t ideal, but our needs are met, if they weren’t we would change.

Or would we?

Fear is a real emotion. It isn’t intended for us, but we let it in. We grasp fear thinking we can somehow live together.

We can’t. Not truly.

Embracing love or accepting fear is the choice we’re given.

Love and fear don’t really work together.

Happy Birthday Dad

I felt like talking…

I just talked to my Dad via cell phone tonight. Today is his 65th birthday! He’s at home making himself some sweet potatoes, while his blue jeans swish in the washing machine. Yep. Seriously…

He worked today. Trying to stay busy, Dad was between town and the feedlot throughout the day running errands, as his weakened muscles still keep him from doing a lot of the physical work required to raise cattle. His buddy Dale, who retired a few years ago, came out and rode by cattle pens with Dad for old times sake.

They drove to town and had lunch together, which must have been fun. Listening to Dad retell their experience proved that a good time was had by both, I think. A great salad bar and crappy pizza, he recalled. Ha. We like the salad bar, he insisted.

I wish I could give Dale a hug for keeping Dad company today. Two old cowboys content with each other’s silence is all I can ask for really.

Sounds like Dad had a fine birthday. He was chipper on the phone and admitted to answering his Facebook messages, as they came in, which is awesome. I’m thankful for Facebook. It keeps him closer to friends and family.

To be honest, I’m more disappointed in how his day turned out than he is. He should be enjoying our company tonight. His loved ones singing Happy Birthday over a big chocolate cake would have been ideal. We should be watching him blow out 65 candles.

In reality, he deserves kisses from his daughters, a beer from his son and gifts from his grandchildren. And then maybe, after we’d all left, he’d get to have sex, in an effort to finish off the day perfectly. I mean, seems fair, I think.

I’m bummed that his birthday didn’t look like a birthday. However, he seems fine and quite happy. I think he’s just used to every day looking about the same.

I can recall years ago when a birthday meant we got to choose what was for supper, while deciding who in the family got to bake our birthday cake just as we’d pictured it. Tonight, Dad said he wouldn’t have minded my lasagna and a piece of chocolate cake.

It’s my issue when I consider Dad’s day a less than an ideal birthday, I know.

Dad’s 65 today, and next week he receives his last two rounds of chemo. My prayer is that his doctors find him in perfect health, free of Leukemia. I don’t want to talk to him about living with cancer anymore.

I want our conversation to be about how proud I am of his decision to beat cancer. I need to hug him and thank him for fighting the disease with all the strength he had.

I took this photo while Dad was backing his boat into the lake this summer. I should’ve been in the boat already, but I wanted a picture first.

Happy Birthday, Daddy ♡


♡Best Dad in the world
Happy Birthday, Fisherman
Wish our summer back ♡

Our Hero


At peace over what will be
but please fight
Do it!
Oh, Hero of mine
First man I ever loved
You’ve got to try
You’d be the first to tell me why
Nothing’s easy in this life
Not even chemotherapy, it seems
You once told me some things aren’t worth the fight
This is not one of them, not this night
Cancer isn’t going to rein
Not this family, never again



As if my clouds had warned specifically
Life does not end in a single breath
Have faith in Him and honor His test
Sit still, believe miracles happen daily

Update on Dad:

Initially, Dad refused treatment, further testing and our pleading words. The idea of him not taking the opportunity to try medical advancement was devastating news. Who makes that choice? A stubborn cowboy who doesn’t believe in doctors, I guess, maybe, someone unsure of what the fight will look like, and I can easily identify with that fear.

Eventually, Dad agreed to take the next step and was transferred to another hospital in Denver. I like to think he knew how much his refusal of treatment was affecting us and wanted to ease our pain, but I believe the support of my three siblings being with him through each step gave him the confidence to move forward. I understand, there’s a process that goes along with hearing such terrifying news. We tried to be patient.

Dad is surprisingly well, and it has been determined that he has less than Stage 1 Lukhemia.  His body has reacted to the initial procedures and medication and the blood results are amazing.  They are recommending that he do six months of chemo just to be sure all has been eliminated. Dad has agreed to do chemo twice a month and it’s a very low dose of treatment. This means no loss of hair or sickness, so business as usual for him, eventually.

Dad is home from the hospital and the pneumonia that put him there, due to low immunity, is under control. Had he not come down with pneumonia we would’ve gone much longer without knowing that he had Lukhemia, as it had been just short of 50 years since he’d seen a doctor for anything. Early detection saved his life. Our family is blessed.

So now…me and why I haven’t been around or writing. The highs and lows of it all had me so confused. I roll my eyes at myself, as I consider Dad’s emotions. I think shifting from horrid news to elation so quickly had me shocked.  Frozen, even. I took a few days to sort my feelings. How does this happen? Who cheats cancer like this? A blessing I cannot even wrap my head around, yet I know it is all God’s doing. Prayers were answered. We continue to pray that the chemo rids his body of anything that remains.

I think I’m back…maybe. Smiles.

The support I’ve received from y’all is humbling. Last week’s poetry was full of beautiful and loving comments and I thank you. Your emails proving your devotion continue to make me smile. Thank you…

The Greatest Man poem was the first poem I wrote after getting the call from my sister last Friday afternoon. It is now one of my personal favorites, as my Dad has proven to me that he continues to be my hero. I’m thankful that he realizes how much I do need him and how relieved we are that he is willing to fight cancer for himself and his family.

The Giggling Siblings poem was the night before some major tests. (defining the stage) I love looking back at that snapshot of our family pulling together and smiling. (Even if they were making fun of me…) All of us fearful of the news we’d eventually receive as the results came through in the days to follow, yet calmly waiting and diverting that fear with some giggling.

The result is a stronger bond, which none of us thought possible, as we’re already each other’s best friends. Maybe now, however, Dad understands how deep our love for him goes.


Giggling Siblings


A photo received this evening
Via Assholes, it seems
Giggle worthy, I believe
Siblings, teasing me
Oldest Sister always clouding
Viewing and capturing daily
Poetic puffs of creativity
Eleven floors up, they see
A spectacular moon beaming
Redheaded Sister will envy
A moon over the Rockies
Pay no mind to the glaring
It’s sparkling somewhere brightly
None of us can accept or believe
Our father has Cancer, weeping
But humor’s alive and well, Roomies
Oldest Sister is finally, giggling
Hospitals can be so very boring
Tease Dad for flirting with Nurse “Nelly”
And let this Cloud Poetess be


Yes, we received the worst news this weekend. Dad has Lukhemia. We’re all shocked and terrified, but he finally agreed to attempt treatment. Praising God this evening. My three siblings are with him in Denver and I’m in Houston. What a bummer. I am staying positive. I have to, you know.

In true family style…we try to keep smiling. I love you Big Brother, Middle and Baby with all my heart. Love this Father of ours so very much, however, the next time I see you guys I’m gonna kick your asses. I cannot believe y’all sit around and make fun of my cloud pictures!! How rude! 😉 😉 😉 Man, do I love you!! *giggles*

(Yes, my first reaction was to reply by calling them Assholes, so I did. They pissed themselves laughing. ..I do not apologize.  Haha!)

Oh, and a few more pictures they sent me this weekend. For your viewing pleasure:


They literally have laughed me to scorn! 🙂

This is complete cloud coverage, y’all. (See, I’m completely justified in calling them assholes, I think.) 😀