A Good Day

We had to find some good in all the chaos that has surrounded us in the last couple of months. Actually, it's been a pretty rough year for us. In February, I fell down the front (cement)stairs and broke a finger and almost broke my kneecap. Then we lost our beloved Gator, a 16 year old miniature pinscher, after a long fight with severe arthritis.


Now, Cancer.


So, we decided to go on a day trip up north, starting with Nisswa. 


It's a tourist town just north of Brainerd that I hold near and dear to my heart. My grandparents lived just outside of town, on Upper Gull Lake. It's full of little trinket shops that I loved to visit with Grandma. It was different back then - many of the shops I loved are no longer there - but it still holds very fond memories for me.


My fondest memory is the deli at the end of "the strip" that we would visit on Saturday mornings. Walking in, you smelled yummy smoked sandwich meats and cheeses. My eye was always drawn to the barrels of fresh homemade salt water taffy in dozens of flavors that lined the floors. Grandma was a fan of it (as was I!), and we always left with a bagful of colorful, chewy deliciousness, along with swirled hard candy sticks. I was mesmerized while watching the motorized taffy stretcher in the window. There was a big glass jar full of HUGE deli pickles on the counter. I always got to pick one out - of course, the biggest one I could find - and I would munch on it for the rest of the day.


Their home started out as a cabin, but became their primary residence in the late 80's. Three houses down live Kenny and Betty. Kenny was grandpa's best friend, Betty was grandma's. They had known each other for - I don't know how long - forever!


I have always had a connection with Betty. She and my grandma were the epitome of "church basement ladies". They were always cooking or baking for an army. Whatever the occasion was, they were there to feed the masses. Cookies, cakes, lefse, caramel rolls by the hundreds. Many times I was there, as a small child, "helping" to the best of my ability.


In Kenny and Betty's backyard, a swing hung from a big tree. I loved that swing. You could swing so high, it felt like you could touch the sun with your toes. Betty always told me I could come and swing on it anytime I wanted, even if they weren't home. She always had a loving, generous nature; never scolding or judgmental. I loved her like family.


Grandma passed away seven years ago, grandpa three years later. I miss them dearly, but know they are no longer in pain, and they are together again.


Of course, Betty and Kenny were at their funerals. They were saddened by the passing of their dear friends, but felt the same as me. When grandma passed, Betty hugged me and said, "I'll be your grandma, honey." Little did she know, she already was. Not a replacement, she was my "other" grandma. 


Two weeks ago, to my surprise, Betty called me. My mom had called her the night before and told her the news of my diagnosis. She offered such kind words of encouragement and love, I was in tears by the end of the conversation. Good tears. She promised me she would be praying for me in her prayer group the next day, and that I would be just fine. At the end of the conversation, she said, "You imagine my arms around you, hugging real hard, ok?" I did. It felt so good.  


Since that conversation, it had been bothering me that I hadn't seen her in so long. I wanted to see her again before my treatments started. I needed to thank her for being her. 


Yesterday, we did just that. It was so nice to see her. We talked about the times with grandma and all the cookies/cakes/whatever we had made. We laughed a lot. 


She is a survivor of cancer, Kenny is too. Kenny is recovering from colon cancer surgery that he had in May. He is still having issues with fatigue and eating. The poor guy has lost 40 pounds since the surgery. He still has his sense of humor, and didn't miss an opportunity to insert a quirky comment where appropriate! We talked about fear of the unknown, and how far cancer treatments have come. 


We hated to leave, but didn't want to overstay our welcome. Betty and I cried while we hugged. She is so special to me, and I am so glad we got to see them. 


We drove thirty minutes to see my parents at our cabin. Dad had just finished cleaning out the garage, and Mom was busy painting a great big sunfish mural on the back wall of the screen house. It was really turning out cool. She is so talented...who would have thought to do that?!?! She also painted all of the screen house furniture. For awhile, the screen house was used as a "catch-all" to store floaty things for the lake and anything my dad could stuff in there. Now it's a livable, bug-free space that would be great to sit in and enjoy watching a campfire!


They took us on a pontoon ride around the lake. The sun was out and it was perfect. The sweet smell of the water, the warm breeze...mmmmm. It was fun reminiscing about fishing with my dad, and when Ron and I were in our fishing days with our boat. We spent so much time out there, chasing whatever was biting that day. We would only come back to the cabin if we were out of bait, food, or (me) patience. Ron wouldn't sleep more than a couple of hours before he needed to be back out there. Good times.


Back onshore, we sat and talked a bit about next week's port implant and first treatment. I realized they had left for the cabin before all my appointments were set, so they needed updating. We answered all of the questions they had, and then decided to head home before the bugs came out and got the truck all dirty. More big hugs, this time from Mom and Dad.


The dogs were crazed when we got home. With me being out of work, they aren't used to being penned up for more than a couple of hours at a time. Once freed, they were like little black tornadoes tearing up everything they could, including each other. More laughs.


It was a perfect day.