Monday, February 14, 2011

Spread love people, today is the day. Sending so much love from Dave Coady and I straight to your family. xoxox

If there was ever a day to do it, spread love people. Today is the day. Hug somebody, tell someone you love, that you love them. Smile at a baby. Pay someone a random compliment and watch how they stand just a little bit taller. Get a hair cut and feel good about yourself, you are beautiful. Go for a walk in the rain, splurge and by a pair of fancy rubber boots. Eat your favorite chocolate bar. Buy a new book soley based on the way the cover looks. Indulge in yourself, love yourself. Squeeze your pet. Take a nap. Buy the person in the drive thru lane behind you thier coffee this morning. call that friend you have been meaning to reconnect with. Be creative today. Paint, draw, sew. Maybe today is the day to finally forgive and move on. Trust yourself. Be decisive today. Peel a pomegranate. sit down and write a list of everything that you love or are grateful for in you life, include everything from warm peanutbutter chocolate chip cookies to your soulmate. Buy a coffee and breathe in the beauty around you. Do it, spread love. It's the only reason we exist. I love you, I believe in you. If you are checking this blog this morning I am grateful for you, I love that you exist. Happy Valentines Day, the best day of the year, the day that exists merely so that you can experience love. I love you more than you know. You are the best. xoxoox

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Exploding with Potential

I have a dream, that is about to come true and I can hardly believe it. When I started this blog three years ago, I was inundated with support for my writing. Since I was a little girl, I have always loved to write and have always dreamed about writing a book, well, I can hardly contain my excitement, but it's about to happen and I have HUGE plans. A couple of weeks ago, a beautiful friend of mine sent me a simple email simply stating, “Jenn, I think you should write a children's book. Simple enough, just a suggestion. The very next day, that suggestion connected instantly wth inspiration. Coady came home from daycare, a little sad, and we had a moment, the kind of moment that children's books are made out of. I didn't think much of it at the time, however, the very next day as I was driving home from a doctor's appointment, A story came through the sky and literally went right through me. I drove directly from the doctor's office to my friends place and asked her for a piece of paper and a pen. I sat down at her kitchen table and in 30 minutes I wrote down my story, word for word. It was unbelievable, when I finished I knew I had something extraordinary in front of me. A children's story, a REALLY good children's story. I have read the story to some close friends recently and every time a parent hears the story, they cry. This is a very good sign. I know for certain that this little story is going to be a BIG success but what excites me the most is the potential. I have found an online self-publishing website that goes big in a short time. The website will provide my storybook an ISBN number which means that my story will be available in bookstores as well as sites such as amazon etc. The most exciting part is my vision. From the beginning of this cancer journey three years ago, I knew that I was being “chosen”, I was merely a part in a a bigger plan. I am supposed to do something amazing with my story, amazing with my life and I just figured it out. With this story and the money that I believe I am going to make from it, I want to star a foundation. A local charity foundation that I will call, “LOVE FROM JENN”. My vision is to set up a foundation, so that if there is a family in my communty that finds themselves in a similar situation as ours, a cancer situation I want there to be an option available to that family for them to consider naturopathic medicine. Right now in our province, naturopathic medicine is not covered in any respect. If you are diagnosed with cancer you are pretty much forced into the care of an oncologist, which means you are forced into taking treatment at the Cancr clinic, you are forced into chemotherapy. I believe strongly that chemotherapy, although sometimes is effective, is not always the answer. It is not a cure. Cheotherapy and western medical views on cancer are concerned with killing the disease despite the toll it takes on the immune system of the patient. Naturopathic medicine comes with a different perspective. Naturopathic medicine is more inclusive and works to support the immune system of the patient, the idea is that medicine supports the body in healing itself, either by stimulating the immune system to attack the cancer cells or by simply making the patient strong enough so that a compromise can be made within the patients body and the patient may be afforded the opportunity to live with the cancer peacfully in thier body. To me, the naturopathic approach to cancer treatment is much more humane and reasonable, the downside, is that it is extremely expensive. This puts naturopathic medicine out of reach for most families. The treatment that I am recieving from my wonderful naturopathic doctor is IV treatment. I am going to his office three times a week. The cost of each visit ranges in price from $500-$900 a day, reaching almost $3000 a week. I believe fully in the benefit of this medicine, I believe that I was meant to be recieving Dr. Kind's treatment and everyday that I show up at his lovely office I am overwhelmed with gratitude because it is only because of the love and support of my family and friends, my community and communities I have lived in in the past that I am able to afford the treatment. I believe that this treatment should be available to anyone who wants it and believes in it, Finacial assistance should be available and I want to make that happen.
Here's the exciting part. My little sister is an incredible artist. I bought her an airplane ticket last week and she is flying out to spend a week with me on the 16th. Together we are going to work on the illustrations for my children's book. It is my hope that by the end of the month I have a fully published book in my hot little hand. I am planning a book launch party. And am currently looking into the details of setting up a charity. It is my dream to give back, the opportunity that was so graciously given to me. Please stay tuned for book launch party details and the slow release and progress of the the publiishing. I am vibrating, I'm so excited. The story is called 'Kisses for Later”, it is a sweet story starring Coady. Dave actually titled it. It will be illustrated by my sister and hopefully available for sale at the end of the month. I can hardly believe it. Publishing a book is a lifelong dream of mine that is about to come true. I will keep my blog updated while the process continues. Keep the launch party in mind, not sure of date and location yet but it's going to be a HUGE party! And LOVE FROM JENN is going to be a reality. I am going to make a difference in this world. I am just starting to spread love, you haven't seen anything yet! Thank you for the inspiration, for the support, for the love for the friendship. It's going to be an amazing ride, hold on tight. I love you all.
Oh, and a quick update health wise, the past few weeks have been crazy with all kinds of dips and valleys, emergency surgeries and the like but I am living a beautiful healthy life full of joy and I am a force to be reckoned with right now. I am so lucky to have my brother and his beautiful fiance staying with us right now, they have been such a HUGE help in the past few days and they have extended thier stay for a while longer, I am overjoyed. I love them so much. Really my life could not get any fuller or better than it is right now. Start living people, make a difference. Use your actions to spread love, give hugs readily, say I love you, go for a walk on a sunny day and breathe deeply. You are worth loving and the sooner you start giving love out the sooner it comes back to you, it's simply amazing. You won't believe it. Right now I am just waiting for my little sis to show up so we can start painting the illustrations, it's been a long week of waiting so come on Wednesday, hurry up already! I'll post the story soon to give everyone a sneak peak. It has a very “Love you forever” sentiment to it, mom's everywhere are going to love it, Coady loves it and his little cousin is already repeating little lines fom it. SO EXCITIING, I'm getting ready to start a whole new adventure as an AUTHOR!!!! Okay, must get some sleep. I love you all!

Friday, January 21, 2011

Life is short but sweet for certain

To say that the last few weeks have been challenging would be the understatement of the century. You know, I have to admit that when I first received the big scary diagnosis of stage four cancer I thought, okay i can do this. I'm determined, I'm brave, I'm motivated, let's go! I had this incredible circle of support that just grew out of control with momentum. I felt so strong. I felt so in control. And then on Christmas morning I felt a lump. It was in my side, a hard, rigid lump. My immediate reaction was obvious concern but I was able to talk myself down because I had been taking Tylenol 3 for my back pain and one of the hard side effects of codeine is that it causes extreme constipation, so it wasn't unrealistic that this lump in my side was just a blockage in my intestine, no need to get all stressed, right?
I decided to ignore the lump, which became easy to do because shortly after Christmas I was taken off of the hormone therapy I was on and my back pain became my main focus. This pain was all consuming, it was nervy, it was exhausting and excruciating. I related the back pain to going off of the drug, I assumed that I was going through either withdrawal or detox and just kept telling myself, it will get better tomorrow. Well sure enough, time passed by and after a week and a half I was still waiting for the pain to get better. Also, in the meantime I had been trying to get my intestines moving and so I was loading my self up with laxitives and dried fruit. Finally, after what felt like forever I managed to relieve my system. Exhausted and weary, I rubbed my poor belly and once again felt that gruesome panic crawl up the back of my throat, the lump was still there. Unbelievable.
I went to visit my doctor the next day. He felt my stomach and watched my face as I squirmed through the pain, he pulled up my last CT scan report on his computer and confirmed my fear. The two enlarged nodes that were found on my aortic artery during my surgery are located midline, and he believed that the pain I had been experiencing was probably due to the fact that these nodes are growing and therefore pushing my organs around and causing a lot of pressure and pain. Jenn, he said, we need to get your pain under control. In the time I was in his office my body did not stop moving. The pain was mind bending, my teeth were clenched, I was exhausted because I hadn't slept for more than two hours in a row in weeks, I hadn't eaten anything solid in about a week and a half, I was literally losing my mind. He put me on morphine and registered me in the palliative home care program, a program I would have balked at a month before, I graciously nodded my head. That was last Monday.
On Tuesday, I went to my naturopathic doc appt to receive my first IV treatment. When i came home that afternoon I didn't feel well, my body was working hard to adjust to the morphine, I was exhausted and I was so nauseated that I couldn't keep water down. I went to bed, defeated, depleted, empty. That Tuesday night will remain engraved in my mind for the rest of my life because that night I had the moment. I woke up at roughly 2am, the house was silent, I looked at Dave sleeping peacefully beside me, I could hear Coady breathing softly in his room. I felt my hips, they were sore to the touch, my morphine dose had worn off. I looked out the window for what might have been five minutes. I was frozen and I thought, this is it, I'm dying. This is it, this is the beginning of the process. How did I get here? Where is my muster? Why am I not screaming? Why am I okay with just lying down with this? At that point I must have just dissolved into sleep. The next morning I went back to my naturopathic doc for another IV treatment, thank goodness, because the personal interaction I had that day with a very special individual was nothing short of divine intervention.
Im not a religious person, but I do have a very strong faith of my own that is a bit of a mish mash of everything. I was raised in the catholic church, and so I believe in heaven, although I don't have a real clear picture in my mind of what it looks like or how long it takes to get there. I do have a very strong belief that when the time comes and I do crossover, I will be reunited with spirits I have loved in this lifetime. I also firmly believe that people are brought into my life at very intentional times for very intentional reasons. And so on this wednesday morning, this beautiful woman, felt compelled to come to me and give me the words I needed to hear. For her privacy I won't share her name or position but she was in the office and noticed that I was sitting in the IV room by myself and thankfully she grasped the opportunity to talk with me.
Jenn, she said, I have something I want to share with you. First of all, she said, I think you are going to do well, and I'm sending you all of my positive thoughts but I wanted to tell you, that my mom died when I was three and a half years old, and what I want you to know is that, I remember her, and I know that she loved me. Also, I want you to know that I have been around here for a long time and I have watched many people come into this office and various stages of health, and I have watched so many of these people get the treatment you are getting from Dr. K. and I have watched them walk out the door and live their lives. You're going to do great.
In a matter of fifteen minutes, this woman impacted my life in a way that I can't even describe with words. When I left that office, I could feel my feet firmly on the ground, I could breathe deeply, I found my muster. It was as though the sky opened up and I was stepping back into the light for the first time in weeks.
I AM BACK. I'm not dying, what heck was I thinking? Do you know how much stuff I have to do?!
I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself. My pain is under control, thanks to my incredible doctor, I'm sleeping, my appetite is slowly coming back. Here's the best news, Dave bought me an iPad today because I'm going to be spending three days a week at my naturopaths office, each visit is going to take four hours and I am going to use that beautiful time to ...WRITE A BOOK.
I'm back on top. I want to thank my unbelievable friends for their care, they have been worrying, they have cleaned my house, they have made us dinner every night for the past two weeks, they look after Coady with as much love as they have for their own children, they listen to me, they cry with me they bring me presents and flowers. They are nothing short of extraordinary and I love them all so much. I want to apologize to my family for causing so much concern, please rest assured (mom) that I am okay. The final and most important tidbit of information I have is that I have made a firm and very positive decision in my treatment plan. I will be working exclusively with my naturopathic doctor who will be treating the cancer aggressively with various substances including high doses of vitamin C. His goal is to stop the growth of the cancer. If he can stop the growth, I feel very confident that within my own constitution, using effective visualizations, a healthy diet, ensuring that my immune system becomes bulletproof, my support network, sleep and a positive attitude, I can take care of the rest. I will either come to find a balance in my body that will allow me to live with the caner or I will simply will it away. Either way, let it come. What I want to be clear about, is that I will no longer be seeking the advise of a medical oncologist in Victoria. I have a lot of concern about the treatments being offered to me from there because they seem more concerned about killing the cancer that about the harm that may come to my body. And life is short but sweet for certain and I will be LIVING out my days. Thank you for your love and light, go tell someone you love them. I love you.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

A special thank you

There was a period of time when I had sisterhood envy. I remember watching movies about travelling pants and sororities and coming away feeling lonely and sad. When I lost my best friend Katie in a car accident, my girlfriend count plummeted. I was at a loss, I didn't know how to establish a group of girlfriends and I felt incredibly sad about missing out on such a rite of passage as a women. I spent a few years floating from recreation class to recreation class becoming increasingly depressed about my lack of sisterhood. And then, like magic, here they were. I know there were a few integral pieces that had to fall into place to make these women appear. First of all, I became a teacher. This opened up a huge social circle that had been previously out of reach and then, and this is the clincher, I became a mother. All of a sudden, it was as if I could talk to and connect with any woman that crossed my path. It was unbelievable to me how easy it was to converse with other moms and not only converse, bond. The third and final piece was connecting with a couple of pivotal women who had their feet firmly planted in both circles. These women, escorted me in and lovingly accepted my friendship. Thank goodness, because today these women have become a lifeline and I don't know what I would do without them.

After my incredible new years eve good news, I took a hit. My oncologist suggested going off one of the hormone therapy drugs I was taking because it was causing me back pain. And so, after the appointment, I tucked my self into bed that night happily without taking my nightly pill. When I woke up the next morning, New Years Day, I could barely move. My back pain had gone from painful and uncomfortable to excruciating. I made my way downstairs and lay down on my couch and didn't move for five days. On the fifth day, I got a call from my oncologist, checking in on my pain situation. My reaction was not what he had expected and my report to him seemed to send him into the land of uncertainty. He suggested that maybe my pain was a result of the cancer spreading into my bones, a notion I completely rejected. He wanted me to have a bone scan done immediately. My response was a firm “no way”. I had a bone scan in October that came back clear and I don't believe for a second that the cancer has leached its way into my bones. Also, bone scans tend to be insanely stressful and are completely toxic, no thanks. Then he said he would look closely at my previous scans with a radiologist and get back to me. When he got back to me, he seemed satisfied that my scan looked healthy and suggested that maybe I consider an alternative hormone therapy or a “mild” chemotherapy. I told him that I am working closely with a naturopathic doctor and I am waiting for the results of a blood test that would determine the effectiveness of chemotherapy drugs on MY cancer.
This test will see my blood sample sent to Greece, where they will grow MY cancer cells and treat them with all of the conventional chemotherapy drugs available to see which ones work and which ones don't (seems like common sense doesn't it, I mean who would have dreamed of tailoring a treatment plan to the patient's specific body chemistry?) My oncologist agreed and said he would be in touch. Then he called me back a couple of days later, this time convinced that the cancer was indeed spreading and that he would like to run through the mild side effects of the chemotherapy. Let's see, hair thinning (not lost, this seem to be an important point for him to get across.) mouth sores, swollen hands and feet, diarrhoea etc. Etc. Sound's like a walk in the park doesn't it? Again, I declined his suggestion. I have to say, that I know my oncologist has my best interest at heart, I know he wants to take the cancer away. I know he cares deeply about my well being and the interest of my family however, I feel that he is acting from a place of panic and fear right now. I want to tell him that it's okay that he doesn't have an answer. I was aware from the beginning that there is no straight forward cure and I'm okay with that. But I'm not okay making decisions from a place of fear. I want to be informed and confident. I want to believe in my treatment. If this blood test comes back (a blood test that will cost upwards of $4000.00, I'm adding this because with out the support of my incredible community and friends this test would not be accessible, and for that I am beyond grateful) showing a positive result for a conventional chemotherapy drug, then and only then will I consider it.

Anyway needless to say, the time I spent in pain was a dark period that I have no desire to ever visit again. Pain is a crazy thing that messes with your mind. It wakes you up at three in the morning and forces you to confront fears that you have worked so hard to minimize. It makes you panic, it makes you sad, it makes you scared. But here, this is where my sisterhood stepped in. Before Christmas, I was given a gift of love that far exceeded any present I have ever been given in my lifetime. When I was diagnosed again in September, these women, my personal group of angels got together as women would have in days gone by. They collected bits and pieces, scraps and stories and together they wove a healing shawl. These women came together and stitched their loving intentions into a blanket that is nothing short of the greatest gift of love I have ever received. Every block, every stitch was created by love and as I lay on my back, I wrapped myself tight, knowing that I was healing, knowing that I was loved. And then of course, as any sisterhood would they began the rituals of taking care of thier own.

They rubbed my feet, they kissed my head, they tucked me in, they made my bed.
They soothed my fears, they feed my soul, they held my hand, they made me laugh. They continue to come to doctor appointments with me, they make me playlists, they make me soup, they make me chicken 1000 different ways. They have formed a human chainlink fence around me and they guard me with every ounce of compassion they own. They check in, they call, they stop by, they lie on the living room floor beside me. They tidy my kitchen, they bring me books, they look after my son and they feed us food that has been infused with pure love. They rally without being asked or expected. They are mothers, some of them grandmothers. They are healers, teachers, soothers. They are the sisters that have been hand chosen by circumstance and fate to walk beside me. They never falter, they are completely dependable. They laugh and cry with me, they pray with me and stay with me. They listen, they advise, they are brilliant, they are wise. These women are my safe house and I love each of them. I love each of them differently but all the same.

To each of you, and you all know who you are, I love you. You are healing me and it will be our greatest feat because I believe your medicine is the miracle that is going to take place. Thank you.


Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year.

I got a peek yesterday, just a glimmer; a small affirmation, a tiny red tree. I was advised against doing a happy dance just yet, but whatever, I did one anyway. I just wanted to let you know, that if you are reading this and have been one of those beautiful people sending me love, I got it, and it's working.

There is something about the smell of the hospital air that evokes a psychosomatic response of nervous energy and general queasiness. However, yesterday, as we waited for my oncologist to appear on the screen in front of us (joining us via satellite it's Dr....) I felt lighter, trusting, knowing, calm. I had my blood tests and CT scan last week and he was giving me the results.
No advancement of the disease. Stable.
Blood counts and levels normal.
Kidneys functioning well.
Liver and Lungs clear.
PH balance great.
Dramatic drop in Tumor Marker going from nearly 400 to 22.

It's working. I'm going to love this cancer away, and I'm going to do it at home surrounded by my beautiful friends and family. There was awhile there when I considered seeking treatment in Mexico, or perhaps Texas but then one morning, stretched out on my kitchen floor, the clarity came. The thing is, I could jump on a plane and fly anywhere in the world chasing a magic pill that may or may not exist but the truth is, if there is going to be a cure, it will come from within my body. I believe that if my body manifested this cancer my body can take it away and I will do whatever I can to support this process.

On this New Years Eve I am filled with a bittersweetness. 2010 has been a whirlwind of emotion and growth. I've watched my son stretch out into this beautiful boy with shiny eyes full of spirit and comedic timing sent from heaven. I've grown closer to Dave, the other half of my heart, my soul's companion. I felt the shadow of fear, I've cried a river of tears and I've been lifted, gifted with love. I could never have imagined the LOVE, the depth or the strength of the friendships. I couldn't begin to measure the energy, the time or the loving efforts of the people I know and the people I don't. The ones who put me first, the ones who took it upon themselves to save me for my family. I could never have imagined the fire that would start in me, the determination or the desire to be exceptional. And so 2010, I'm going to let you go. Thank you for the lessons, for the awareness and the red trees. My arms are wide open and I'm ready for the New Year, with all of it's twists and turns. I'm ready because now I know that “Miracle shall follow miracle, and wonders shall never cease.” Happy New Year, yes indeed it will be.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Somebody get me a ruler.

I have a strong affinity for straight lines. There are no surprises with a good straight line, no curves to worry about or corners to take, no obstructions and no change in direction. I love rows and columns, clean working surfaces, and fine point pens. I tend to fall into leadership roles naturally, I enjoy making firm decisions and I love making a seamless leap from point A to point B. I excel in a straight line environment, my only problem is that cancer is no longer a straight line.

Lately I've been feeling a familiar type of anxiety rising, the kind of anxiety I get when Dave drops me off at the pumpkin patch and says, “okay, pick one”, or worse when he says, “you pick the tree, and I'll cut it down”. You see “options” are not a friend to a straight liner like me. Options trigger, what can only be described as an OCD reaction, sending me into tailspins trying to find the perfect “one”. The problem with having no cure for cancer, other than the obvious, is that everything and anything could be a cure for cancer. I feel as though I've fallen down the rabbit hole and now I'm faced with a wonderland buffet of options: drink this ionized water out of the copper cup, eat this mushroom while standing on one foot, take this drug, don't take that drug, don't eat sugar, only eat sugar...etc. etc. The options are endless and nauseating and I'm exhausted. There is a fine line between being informed and being completely overwhelmed and I am walking the tight rope.

This past week and a half has been extremely difficult. The hormone therapy kicked in last week and the side effects have been trying. I'm nauseous, hot and cold, irritable and a crybaby but most distressing is my aching back. I have this unrelenting, intense pain in my lower back that makes it incredibly difficult to pretend like everything is okay. I'm an emotional wreck because obviously my body is screaming at me and I am choosing to ignore it, and that does not sit well with me. I'm not confident in this drug treatment but I'm too scared not to take it. Seriously, is a straight line too much to ask for?

Last night I went out to the theatre with one of my closest friends. I keep this friend filed under divine because I'm pretty certain she's got some white wings tucked away, out of sight. At the end of what turned into a very emotional night she prayed with me. Together we prayed for clarity, for peace of mind and a straight line.

This morning, after I got Dave and Coady out the door to work and play, I lay a blanket on my newly heated (thank you Dave;) kitchen floor. I turned off the computer and the ringer on the phone and I lay down on my screaming back. I closed my eyes and I listened. It's amazing what you hear if you just take the time to listen. It's incredible to hear the sound that hope makes as it uncurls itself and reaches up, like a straight line extending to the sun.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Pennies From Heaven

I distinctly remember the first time I saw her. It was early September, the beginning of grade ten. I was sitting with some friends, backs against the lockers in the hallway. I noticed her immediately as she walked towards us, and it shook me, because when I say noticed, I mean it was as though my soul recognized her. She had the most amazing smile, an undeniable sparkle in her eye, and a fiery spirit that made her glow. Her name was Katie and we became inseparable. She changed my character in profound ways, she showed me love, resilience and strength like no one in my life ever had before. She was my best friend, my kindred spirit and one of the greatest teachers of life that I would ever know. And she came and went too quickly.
On a fateful night in November 1998, Katie fell asleep behind the wheel of her car as she drove home from visiting family in Halifax. I remember dropping the phone and feeling the numbness spread through my body. But more incredibly, I remember the feeling of disbelief and gratitude I felt as my mom and I drove home from a friends house late that night. As I looked out my frosted window, into the peaceful black night, I watched the blanket of new fallen snow rise up to meet the stars. I closed my eyes and prayed for a sign. Let me know she's okay. Show me that she's okay. Show me that her spirit is whole and soaring. Show me. I remember opening my eyes, I remember the hair rising up on my arms. I remember the calm that entered my heart. I remember the way that the snow lit up and sparkled as though someone had captured the sun and let it almost escape. The brief shimmer that spread across the white blanket. The wave that said good-bye, I'm okay. It was Katie who taught me first, to watch for the signs. She's been winking at me ever since.
In the past month, I have received message after message commenting on my strength and my courage.
And while I accept these messages with an open heart and gratitude, I can only take so much credit because as a whole person, I am merely the sum of the beautiful people who have come into my life. And so I want to thank you.
I want to thank my beautiful family and my amazing friends for their love and unrelenting support. Thank you to the communities I have belonged to in the past who have joined hands and hearts and have caught my family, and continue to hold us tightly. Thank you to the teachers who have left your mark. Thank you for embracing my vulnerability and accepting my words. Thank you for your love and your belief in us as worthy.
My greatest fear, that comes with the cancer diagnosis is not of dying or of death, my fear is of leaving Dave and Coady in a life that is absent of me. However, the other night, as I took a moment to look around the room, a room that was so full of life and love it was palpable, I was filled with love, gratitude and a deep sense of knowing that everything will be okay. Dave and my little Coady would be guarded, and loved and adopted by this amazing community that we have surrounded ourselves with. What more could I possibly ask for? I am indeed a fortunate soul who will always have faith in the signs. Thanks Kate, I love you too.

“If the only prayer you say in your entire life is – 'thank you' – that is enough.”
Meister Eckhart (1260-1328)