THE TROUBLE WITH SMALL TOWNS

My heart practically leaps out of my throat when I read and re-read and re-read your posting that tells us you are transitioning toward coming home. The trouble with living in a small town (have I already mentioned how you, Jess, are a part of the reason we stayed in Eugene?) is that when one friend is gone for so long, it is really noticed. I want you back here! I am willing to part with you every few weeks, but only for a short trip back to OHSU – since they are taking such good care of you. Your parents can borrow you as well since they seem to have this caring thing down pat. Its hard to concede that at this point, when you’ve worked so hard in the treatment marathon you are not “done”. But you are in the home stretch and you can see that finish line. So you’ve got to stop and start a few more times. Its okay. You can be home in between. Home is good.

Now, a mental exercise (for both Jess and Mark): Imagine yourself at a friend’s house. You have a smooth, cold but perspiring bottle of beer (or limoncello) in one hand and a few greasy crumbles of ruffled potato chips in the other. You look around and see two dozen of your close friends chatting, laughing, smiling. You breathe in through your nose and what’s that smell? Its some large chunk of meat on the grill. Maybe it rained earlier in the day, but its sunny now and it’s the first BBQ of the year. You soak in the warm sun and take a sip. Mmmm, BBQ is good.

(Arica)