Milkweed

After watching the sunset over the Muhlenberg Brigade Huts at Valley Forge National Park, my son and I started back towards the car. I kept stopping to take pictures along the way. Brett slowed to a stop so the dog could take care of some personal business and I waited, continuously looking for things to photograph. Across the path from us, the milkweed was turning to seed and I thought how some of them resembled an animal's ears. At one point, I convinced myself that if I stared hard enough, I could even imagine a face between two of them. I kept staring, finally whispering to Brett to look. I pointed, asking if he could see how those two particular milkweed seed pods kind of looked like ears. He was just starting to see where I was pointing when the "pods" moved, turned to the side, giving us a clear view of its body. It paused for a few seconds, then ran into the brush, disappearing from sight. Brett and I looked at each other to make sure we both saw it. What I thought was my imagination actually turned out to be a live animal. Later I spoke to a park ranger and described what we saw, asking if it was more likely a gray fox or a coyote and she told me it was probably a coyote, as gray foxes aren't common in that habitat. She said they had seen a litter of young coyotes in the park. I am so thankful my son saw it as well or I would always assume my imagination had turned into a hallucination at that moment. I'm also thankful for confirmation from a park ranger who knew all about the park and the wildlife that inhabits it.

I had the opportunity to return to South Carolina for a brief visit over the holiday weekend. Since leaving in 1989 as a newlywed, I rarely get back there. Spending time with friends and relatives was so wonderful. One of my high school best friends said something that completely warmed my heart. She said she had always liked my dad. Sometimes the simplest statements can have the most profound effect on a person. This is someone who knows me. Really knows me.

Most of my friends in Pennsylvania know I grew up in South Carolina but they don't know what high school I went to. They don't know who my homeroom teacher was. They don't know which English teacher taught us the word pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. They don't know what I did after school or what kind of music I liked.

And they didn't know my dad.

Even my kids didn't know my dad. He passed away before they were born. Some people stay in the same community all their lives and won't know this feeling, but there is something very special about being around loved ones who knew you "when".

But even those who knew me as a child / teen / tomboy / animal lover / Cyndi Lauper fan / goofball - don't know me completely. They don't know what I do from day to day, what my home looks like, or what car I drive.

There were lots of questions about my cancer journey. I was asked if I mind questions about it and I said definitely not. I am always happy to talk about my experience. Sometimes I worry I'm talking about it too much and boring people. Those who knew me "when" don't really know me now. So we catch up.

Nobody is ever going to be an expert on who I am. Except for the One who created me. He knows my past, present, future, every thought, every feeling, every intention. And He loves me through all of them.

"O Lord, You have searched me and known me.

You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You understand my thought from afar off.

You comprehend my path and my lying down,

and are acquainted with all my ways.

For there is not a word on my tongue,

but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether." 

Psalm 139:1-4