Loving Deeply Gives you Strength

Hello friends and welcome to the liver blog. In honor of our wedding anniversary, 13 years tomorrow, April 30, I wanted to reprint something from the Care Pages, which was a way for so many of you to walk with us quite literally through the valley of the shadow of death. We will never ever forget that. One of my leadership classmates, my mentor, and an amazing woman, Lynae, says I should turn those care pages into a book. One day. Anyway, without further ado, here's one of the dispatches.

* * *

Poisoned and Purified. We got to that place.

Bob is a polite patient, as I mentioned before. Like the English Patient. Body immobile, but all over with heart and soul. I have not been the model caretaker. No Juliet Binoche here, the actress who nursed the English Patient in that magnificent movie. When Bob was first getting sick, I was resentful. The naps were too long. The laundry was piling up. He couldn’t walk up to campus to see his bishop from NYC. I did the kids, dinner, dishes, homework, and bedtime. I was even keeping track. Eight days in bed, I remember thinking. I had no idea that counting days was the luxury of an illness that Bob did not have. Nor how completely small minded I was being.

When we came home after Bob’s first hospital stay in early November, I was so tired. I couldn’t even drive over to fill his new prescriptions. I just went to bed. And Bob had a scratch attack, of which I didn’t fully understand at the time. He came back to the bedroom, flipped on the light and asked where his medications where. ‘I’m just so tired, I can’t get them now.’ I went back to sleep. And I was mad. Later in the drug store, I called Bob on the cell phone and told him I was tired and trying my best. Give me a break. Over and out.

When I got home, he asked me to sit by him. With a shaky voice and watery eyes and the most contrite face you can ever imagine, he unabashedly apologized right into my core. I am so sorry. You are taking such good care of me and this is how I treat you. That was so wrong. I am so sorry. How can I treat you that way. After everything you’ve done for me. I am very, very sorry. I was terrible.

And I was transformed. I felt the full force of his poisoned body and his purified spirit.

Our relationship instantly became as sincere as it’s ever been. And it remains that way today. Actually, that’s how Bob and I feel about everyone now. All of you. One and all. Just so truly full of love. All the petty stuff is gone. The trivia just – puff – went away. When I am able to tell him any sort of good news, he is just genuinely happy. We both are. Josephine and Robby are having a baby boy. Beautiful. Lonn and Martha went to Duluth. That’s great. The basketball team is assembled. I’m so glad. The Rosa's family picture. That's gorgeous. Alternatively, Mom Speirs and I are careful in how we present sad news, because his grief seems more profound. Even for people he doesn’t know.

We are there. We got to that place in a marriage, a friendship, a relationship where you try so hard to get to but can’t easily find. Like a love song that you think doesn’t exist. Where you genuinely put the needs of the other person first. And you know its mutual. We found it in the dark. And I want to stay there when we get out of this cave.

Lately, the little red sores, the petechiae, which were previously head to toe, are almost gone. During a scratch attack, the petechiae would open and turn Bob’s back into a red plaid mess. Like he’s auditioning for a Mel Gibson movie or something. The fact that those horrible little things have mostly vanished is one of those good signs about which I keep reminding both Bob and me.

Bob’s skin seems to be moving to the next stage in that it’s exfoliating from head to toe. I’m also taking that as a good sign even as it really bothers Bob. Aveeno oatmeal scrubs ahoy. We’re gonna wash that jaundice right out of your skin. I use the imagery of a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. Of a body cleansing. Away with the old, in with the new life. Your body will soon be as whole as your mind and soul. Rebirth. Renewal. Resurrection.

Last night I talked with Fin, one of his basketball boys from church – the cute one eating pizza in the picture, sitting right next to Bob. He said that next Sunday is their first game and they’re dedicating it to ‘the Coach.’ Kids have a purity right from the start, at least the kids that Bob knows all seem to.

You are all beautiful. With love, T

* * *

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength. . .
. . .Loving someone deeply gives you courage. Lao Tzu

(One of the little sayings on the wall in the transplant unit at Mayo.)

Happy Anniversary Sweetie!!!!! :-) xoxoxoxoxox :-)

Dedicated to my most amazing LWR colleagues, past and present

i thank You God for this amazing

I thank you God for most this amazing Day:
For the leaping Greenly Spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky
and for everything which is natural which is infinite
which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today
and this is the sun's birthday
this is the birthday of life
and of love and wings
and of the gay green happening
illimitably earth)

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

how should tasting touching hearing
seeing breathing any
lifted from the no of all nothing
human merely being doubt
unimaginably you?

(how the ears of my ears awake and
how the eye3s of my eyes are opened)

Poem by ee cummings, courtesy of my dear friend Martha A.

* * *

Thanks, everyone, for a great week and an amazing 13 years. Especially for all the 'yesses' yet to come, as we join together around the point.

Time for Saturday morning swimming lessons. Got the ipod synched.

With love, T

What's the Point?

So this is what planning looks like at LWR. Lots-o-brilliant ideas, talented colleagues, and fabulous shoes. With thanks to Fran, although this picture only begins to do justice to these stylish sling backs and stunning goals.

The only thing is, I'm starting to wonder how the vision for peace and dignity for every one and every generation really works for me, because while others are taking in some karaoke -- boring old me is blogging in pajamas. I am so tired! And I can't even blame my kids or favorite liver.

Why? Oh, just dinners and conversations and dreams and workplans and friends and walking dogs among peppermint tulips. You should have seen the three very beautiful cousins of Shakira who showed up for a farewell party of a beloved colleague. Oh my goodness, just, well, imagine a whole room full of people laughing loudly for ten minutes straight. Good bye, Aleida! Thank you for teaching me how to spell Colombia (as in the country of, with an "o" not a "u").

Anyway, that is me here in Baltimore. And this is what I have waiting for me in St. Paul. A self portrait of one of the many points to all this.

Goodnight, friends!!! Thanks so much for coming over to the liver blog.

With love, T

A Tuesday in Baltimore

Question: What is the name of this quilt pattern.


Answer: Many trips around the world.

Isn't it pretty? It was designed in honor of my grandmother and Mrs. Elsie Feistner and the thousands and thousands of others who for decades have hand sewn quilts for people all around the world who need some extra TLC. (Speaking from experience, TLC helps.)

This is a view from the rooftop deck of the Good Samaritan Quilt Plaza that welcomes people to the building that houses the headquarters of Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service, Lutheran Services of America, the Delaware-Maryland ELCA Synod, and Lutheran World Relief.

And how's about this for the best lunch spot in town. The view of the Inner Harbor up and out the other side of the roof top patio. The view was even better before the Science Museum decided to expand; just as the neighbors must surely remember when the view was better yet before all the Lutherans built on this nice little donated waterfront piece-o-land. But we're good neighbors, so no hard feelings. Besides, the 25 cent beer joints are still all around the harbor, according to my brother Tom, paramedic-extraordinaire, who was here recently at a paramedic convention.

This is a drive-by so I'm sorry to not know the name of the church. But very cute that the city bus driver waited for me to take the picture before passing us. It's just up the street of where I'm staying.

And now for the grand finale' here are the LWR India staff, who are here for planning meetings. I'll say one thing for LWR, there's a-lotta planning going on. But it pays off, because, for example, these people are doing amazing things all over India, including conducting a ten-year Tsunami rebuilding plan. With how many staff, you ask? You're virtually looking at them all. (Sara, by the way works at HQ) We are bare bones, baby. It's because of the way LWR works with local partners. Uh oh, I'm starting to sound like I'm working. Anyway, their names: Troty, Sara, Rakhi, Prabhat, and moi.

Once again, why am I blogging instead of sleeping? Thanks for coming over to the liver blog. By the way, my favorite liver and his servant, Bob, and the kids are doing great at home. With a lotta help from friends, it seems, especially since this is also the week that Bob gets to do a little filling in at Redeemer in North Minneapolis, with Pastor Kelly Chatman gone for the week. Thanks everyone for helping out with bus stop, soccer, swimming, and karate duty!!! x0x0x0x0 Is there anything better than great neighbors. No.

With love, T

Feast on your life

Hello friends, thanks so much for coming over to the liver blog.

I made it to LWR headquarters!! 85 degrees here today. Here are some of my awesome colleagues, the impromptu welcome committee, if you will. ;-) The spirit of the office is as true and beautiful as the vision of the organization. Dignity and justice for everyone in every generation. R to L: me, Emily, Phil, Vicky, Fran, Becky. I'm told that our India staff is here too this week, so I'm hoping they'll let me blog them. Stay tuned. ;-)

Later, this is what I found when I opened up my camera. A still life of home, presumably with Aidan as photographer. Speaking of home, here's the link to the blog by Amanda and her friends. Hi sweeties!!! Mama misses you!!! x0x0x0x0 (as if they are even close to ever reading this)

On a sad note from home, today we are saying good bye to Cookie, my parent's beloved Boston Bull Terrier. She lived a good long full life in Dexter, Minnesota, with occassional cross country trips with my Dad. Here's a picture of her in her favorite position, sleeping under the covers. Every night she would tuck herself into bed, digging herself under the covers and resting her head on the pillow, as though she was human. Bob and I remember, though, the Cookie that was a bullet. All muscle, bursting out of the back door and bounding off the deck seemingly airborne for 10 feet before hitting the ground running. Do dogs go to heaven? I think so.

Anyway, just thought this poem would be a nice thought to close on tonight. Goodnight everyone! :-) Love, T

Love after Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

~ Derek Walcott ~
courtesy of our LWR Virtual U speaker from last week, the amazing John Nunes.

P.S. Podcast find for today: Mysterious Universe.

Baby I'm Ready to Go

No one was happier than Aidan's swimming teacher today when mama panda did not play helicopter parent, ready to swoop down at any moment to save her baby from drowning. Why no swooping today? Because mama panda was not even watching. She was pacing the hallway outside the pool with her new ipod, totally energized with Republica's "Ready to Go." Over and over. Ready to go, baby I'm ready to go.

What happened? I dunno. Just two weeks ago I was still weepy, bleary, vertigo-prone, dazed and malaised, trauma and dramatized. Still recuperating from the diva liver deliverance, I suppose. Now, I seem to be like on some kind of adrenalin rush. It feels great. Like about time. You know how you get so sick of feeling sick. Adrenalin energy is much more enjoyable.

Maybe it's the ipod that Amanda and I are sharing. Very nice bonding thing for a mama and baby panda, by the way. Even got myself a play list, which Amanda helps me organize:

Ready to Go, Republica
Feeling Good, Michael Buble'
Rush, Ali and AJ
SOS, Rhianna
Hips Don't Lie, Shakira
Maybe Tomorrow, Stereophonic
Maybe Tomorrow live, Stereophonic
Maybe Tomorrow, Stereophonic (yes, again)
The Game of Love, Santana
Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Tears for Fears

Or maybe the power surge of attitude comes because in about two weeks I'll be having my throat slit, an occasion that from here on out I shall refer to as my Fancy Nap. And I am totally loving all the attention it's getting me! Cards, music, phone calls, visits, hugs, best wishes. . .all that. Even two lovely new scarves from my parents. It's really great. Thanks everyone! Why wait 'til cancer comes? We should be about this kind of intense relating to one another at all times, in my opinion. Baby, I'm ready to go.

So anyway, this ipod thing is great because you can download all these free podcast thingees, which can be utterly deadly for one who is already a public radio junkie. Practically have every section of the NY Times subscribed to my itunes account. They even have a podcast of the Gonzales hearings from last week, which I heard live so I didn't download. I listened live, by the way, to the dismay of my husband; and my colleague, Phil. What can I say, I'm a nut or a nerd or a fruity juice who just wants justice in the Justice Dept., especially one that says it justifies decisions on just regular folk based on just the facts. Baby, I'm ready to go.

I was also thinking about our LWR Virtual U speaker from last Thursday, John Nunes, and how he said that when you find your vocation(s) you will recognize it, because it's like returning home. It's in your DNA. It is something that comes so much from your core, and often can be covered up in so many layers. But you know it when you see it. It's how you must 'do life' as he says. The compulsion, combustion of your deepest passions.

And then, I realized that the Zenon Dance Company is located about two blocks away from my new downtown office. Dance company, you ask? Yes, I used to dance. A long time ago. Long, long ago. So why couldn't I again? I don't know. Let's see where me, my Fancy Nap, Bob's Fancy Nap, and the so-called call goes because Baby, I'm ready to go.

Thanks everyone. You're all fabulous and I am so blessed and happy and privileged that you are hanging in there with me and all of us. I'm sending good vibes right back at you.

With love, T

P.S. Next weeks' dispatches will come to you live from Baltimore, Maryland, the international headquarters of Lutheran World Relief, from where I will be working. Baby, I'm ready to go.

Here's to the Anti-Bland

I'm so bummed out that Sanjaya was booted off American Idol this week, according to my yahoo news, anyway. I liked him. Has a lotta guts for a 17-year-old. Definitely not boring.

Speaking of entertainment, I'm TOTALLY loving the squirming going on in the Paul Wolfowitz and Alberto Gonzales camps. I won't go there now, except to say that snakes must slither. Hey, I just had a thought, wouldn't it be something if slimy Simon could judge Wolfy and Gonzy?

On to much nicer things, I'm pleased to say that we had a lovely evening last night at the LWR Virtual University. My LWR 'homecoming' thanks to the encouragement of my wonderful colleague, compliments of Lutheran Volunteer Corps, Phil, who held it all together while I was out during Bob's liver expedition. A leader has been born, and that is Phil. Thanks Phil!!!! Our guest speaker, the amazing John Nunes, talked on global vocation and how we must be careful of a church that is "bland leading the bland." Amen to that. Some of his writings are posted on the Virtual U website. For hope and inspiration, I recommend a little time with his material.

Here's to creativity, spirit, exuberance, and a church that bubbles waaaaaaaaaay outside the box. And to individuals who go outside, even when the church doesn't.

For me right now, I gotta go. Thanks so much for coming over.

With love, T

Joketime
Q: What did the Buddha say to the hotdog vendor?
A: Make me one with everything.

It started with the Dentist.

Do you have times when you remember exactly why you picked someone out who you wanted to be with? Today I remembered why I want to be with Bob. Sadly, after 14 years of marriage, those moments can be sparse. Today they were abundant, starting with the dentist.

We were doing some health-care errands and along the way, Bob decided that he wanted to stop in and say hello to his dentist. Didn't have an appointment. Just wanted to let her know why he hasn't been around lately, to inform her that his liver is healed. And that it was injured. This is right after having just reassured our optometrist that the liver is now fully functioning.

"How about if we also stop to let the Buick people know that your liver is back?" I suggested as we passed by a parent dealership of our car.

Bob didn't immediately get my sarcasm. He genuinely wanted to check in with his dentist, since we were in the neighborhood and all. Just wanted to connect. And, yes, friends, that's what he did. I studied the fish aquarium in the waiting room as he, in between the doorway and patients, told her how sick he was. She gave him a-lotta antibiotic sympathy and a-little dental advise. Bob left with a smile. It was a genuine interaction. That's why I love Bob! He relates to everyone, even his dentist, on a truly human level. It's the Brooklyn in him.

It was a Brooklyn day today, I guess, because as we chatted about our respective forthcoming surgeries over Chinese food -- You just go to sleep and wake up and that's it, right? Right. -- Bob remembered 30 years ago how he got into a really bad bicycle accident on 5th Avenue in Sunset Park, his home neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York. If you have a friend named Ivan Forehead and another named Oscar's Ivan, who would you want to smash head-on into? Exactly. That's why it was really bad when Ivan Forehead's forehead rammed into Bob's head, sending him into facial plastic surgery. Resulting in a big 'ol head bandage as though he had just come back from the Revolutionary War with a couple guys playing the fife and drums. Bob had to go to a Mets game with an unusually large baseball hat after that. By the way, Oscar of Oscar's Ivan was actually referred to as the Mayor of Sunset Park.

Oh my goodness we laughed. Friends, that is but one of the thousands of stories you would hear if you ever spent time with Bob or anyone of his brothers or sisters or friends or neighbors from Brooklyn.

And then, to top it off, today while at the optometrist we both came back to the counter to show the lady the frames we picked out for our new eye glasses and -- I kid you not -- we picked out identical frames. We're matching!! Isn't that the corniest thing you ever heard? Just a variation of color. I'll post a picture when we get them.

So, well, then there's the two surgeons who are doing my throat surgery. I think I hit the jackpot on doctors in this deal. Dr. Cutest-Personality-in-the-World and Dr. Mensa-Barbie. Dr. C-P-W had just returned from eating cake at his nurse's retirement party. When I asked him about his thyroid surgery experience, he said he'll never forget when he was 7-years-old and his dad did this procedure on someone reclined in their living room. "He was way over his head," he said. I thought it was interesting that he was thinking of the doctor, while I was wondering about the patient. Anyway, looks like I get a team of surgeons who gave Bob and me complete confidence in their abilities to cut my throat. May 8 is the date.

Back at home, while making dinner, our dear, dear neighbors (How many dear neighbors can we have? Many.) came over to apologize for the Virginia Tech tragedy. Why? Because they are from South Korea. My heart sank. "You owe us no apology. What happened there has nothing to do with you. You are our friends and we have great respect and love for you and your family." That's what Bob told our neighbor. Oh dear, so, I guess I would say, if you have neighbors or friends or co-workers from Korea, maybe you could give them a card, a cake, or something to tell them how grateful you are to have them for friends. Just a little reassurance for people who may be feeling unduly responsible right now.

Anyway, not just one moment, but a whole bunch of them came to me today. The ones that remind me why I picked to be with Bob. The only person I've ever met who stops in unannounced to his dental office to say hi.

Thanks so much for coming over to the liver blog.

Peace and joy to you, friends.

With love, T

Goodnight.

We keep saying that we're going to get into a schedule. Homework. Dinner. Early Bedtime. But then, it gets so nice outside and who wants to come in for homework, dinner, or early betime? When all the kids are outside riding their bikes, exploring the edge of the woods, playing baseball, learning karate, and dribbling the soccer ball. And then when you do come in for dinner, why not have pizza with your neighbors, along with a few glasses of wine. On a Tuesday night. Even though last night you also had dinner with another dear friend. And during that pizza, another neighbor comes over to inform you that a brother has died in Tanzania. And you are so sad. The neighbor prays for your thyroid cancer. You put the kids to bed. And then head upstairs to the brother of the one who died. And together you mourn in a living room full of community. Chai. Swahili songs. Prayer. Comfort.

You get back home and wonder what happened to your schedule. But when you live here, in this rich place, that's what you do. You flow in and around neighbors and friends, never forgetting how they walked with you in your valley of the shadow of death before the diva liver delivered.

Several people have said to me that when you get a cancer diagnosis then miracles start to happen. It's been four days and I already see them. Thanks, everyone, for your notes and expressions of love. Tomorrow is my meeting with the thyroid surgeon.

It's way too late to blog and I have to go to bed.

Peace, joy, and love, T

Paige is 5!!!

Happy Birthday to my niece, Miss Paige Kaitlyn Mork. She is pictured here with my brother, Trey, her father, at the benefit. (There were so many benefits to that event.)

Paige is as old as Bob's seminary career as she was just a little seed in her mama's tummy when we first got here and Bob started classes. And now look at her! That's what a Masters of Divinity looks like. Five years. The family plan. Well, Ok, six counting Bob's liver diva plus gestation. Just stop, Terri. . .

Anyway, Trey is one of my brothers who built his house with his bare hands. Literally. I mean it. And it ain't a small one either. Bob calls it the Dexter Convention Center. Dexter, Minnesota = the Morks + a bar + a grain elevator + a church. And now, the Mork Convention Center. About one hundred yards away from my brother Rusty, who also built his house with his bare hands. When we visit, all Bob sees is the combined huge yards and how it could very easily make a three-hole golf course.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIGE!!!!!!!!!!! XOXOXOXOXOXO Hugs and kisses to Trey, Amy, Ashely, and Aaron.

So anyway, my neighbor and expert on most things the Rev. Elieshi, talks a lot about healing. And how healing is really the ultimate goal on just about everything. Even more than keeping our mortal life. And so as I think about "my cancer" that's right, my very own cancer, it's pretty easy to think about what you are really sure you want to do before you die. Not that I am going to die, or at least soon, I mean we're all going to die, but when you have your very own cancer, you think about dying. (To be clear, my very own cancer is thyroid cancer which is 90-100 percent treatable.) So, one thing I thought today is that I really want to get to know my nieces and one nephew. Here they are in birth order:

Samantha
Priscilla
Ashley
Danielle (my God Daughter)
Brandee
Mackenzie
Mallory
Paige
Aaron
Olivia
Laila

I think I got them all. Now do you see why I need a big house? Anyway, tonight Amanda wanted me to lay with her before she went to sleep and asked me when I would have the cancer removed. ASAP, I said. Back on the Monday morning phone with clinic receptionists tomorrow morning. Thanks to the diva liver, I've got a lot of experience with that. ;-) Time to get my appointment moved up closer.

Entonces, thanks everyone, for your comments, thoughts, prayers, and phone calls. I really appreciate it. As Dr. Asfaw says, "We'll walk through this together."

With love, T

P.S. And Zambia. It has come to me three times this week.
#1 -- My speaker for the LWR Virtual U is calling in from Zambia and my awesome Phil has spent all week to make the logistics of this phone conference class work. The Rev. John Nunes looks to be pretty amazingly inpsirational. I've been listening to his online sermons. BTW, you're all invited to call in.
#2 -- Looks like there's some nasty flooding going on in Zambia and LWR issued some assistance.
#3 -- My dear friend and former boss, Sarah Ford, evidently is in Zambia. She happens to specialize in landlocked countries in the center of Africa. ;-) Sarah, are you there? Can you look up John? Actually, Sarah specializes in everything. If you've ever heard of the concept of "fair trade," Sarah invented it. Defined it. Developed it. Refined it. We Lutherans were so happy to have her with us, now she's with the Catholics, but we're scheeming how to get her back. ;-) She's the one who would write these things on Bob's care pages that would cause people to ask me, "Who is this Sarah Ford??? She is amazing." Indeed she is.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Pleasant Words are a Honeycomb

“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the body.” Proverbs: 16:24

I don't know why it is so hard for the appointment people to pronounce my doctor's name. They say "Doctor ASS-fauw." It's actually a much more refined pronunciation, as in "Oss-faa." I'm not sure, but I think he's Ethiopian. He did his residency is New York City and Long Island. And I will admit to a blatant stereotype. I like him because I think he's from the continent of Africa. He is meticulous in his looks and in the way he speaks. He gives me time. . .doesn't just rush me with a bunch of information in the language of garbely goop. He seems to look and talk right into the center of my core.

"You'll be OK," he said. "I will walk with you through this."

That's what he said. I wished we had found a doctor like that early in Bob's liver expedition. And I found one right away!

So today at work, the lady from Northern Minnesota who requested a speaker from Lutheran World Relief for this October said the theme of their Women of the ELCA conference gathering is "Mind, Body, and Soul" using Proverbs 16:24 as a theme, "Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the body." And even before I saw my wonderful Dr. Asfaw today I decided that I would cling to this verse. The Bible's way of endorsing the power of positive thinking. I think that is the conference that I should speak at. Studies show that the simple act of smiling improves your health.

Even still, the very, very first thing you think is "Please God, whatever happens, please let the kids be OK." That's what you think when your doctor so exquisitely tells you that you have a slow moving cancer in your throat. The second thing you think is how exactly should your surgery be scheduled so that you can tag team with your husband's routine open heart surgery. For the kids' sake. The third thing you think is, wow, this is not advanced and aggressive, as far as you know anyway. And you say a prayer for people you know who are in that.

Dr. Asfaw says that the statistics are totally on my side. Statistics, along with honeycomb thinking and my new found spirituality compliments of Bob's diva liver, and hips-don't-lie-Shakira which I am listening to right now, will get me through this. It's like I don't want to make a huge deal out of this, but also don't want to lone ranger it. That's another lesson I took away from Bob's liver. We need people. We need eachother.

Truly, what I want, is for Bob to get a pastoral call in a really cool church. For us to move into a big house where we can have lots of guests. I want an awesome housewarming party with a mac-n-cheese bake-off and a ventriloquist and a magic show. I want to visit coffee farmers in Nicaragua and remember Oscar Romero in El Salvador. I want to visit chocolate farmers in Ghana and get a really colorful, very fancy dress in full West African dress with lots of jewelry. I want to take my kids to Guatemala to speak Spanish and snorkel. I want a European family vacation. I want to create LWR Hospitality and Learning Centers all over the world. I want to go to Jerusalem, Iran, Iraq, and Romania and see really, really old stuff. Stuff older than the millenium. I want to take an aqua blue cruise and not do a dog-gone thing except for sleep, eat, drink, and read. I want to live in a place where we can build a chicken coop in the back yard that looks like a Swiss Chalet. I want to visit the Rev. Deb in the Black Hills. And still, there are still so many people that I want to thank for getting us through the diva liver melodrama. There's just so much to do.

The fourth thing you think is, when your doctor says this to you, is who should you call. And what do you say. And drat, I'm just so bad with phone conversations, so I hope you will pretty please accept my apologies for reading about this on a cold, hard web page instead of hearing directly from me. Imagine that this blog is a very personal conversation with me. Because I really, really need you. And so does Bob.

Honestly, though, I'll tell you that I feel OK about this. Six months ago, maybe not. Today, yes, I'm OK. Kind of spiritual about it. I am still basking from the Bob Speirs Family Benefit and how people rallied around us in such a big way before, during, and after Bob's diva liver deliverance. Still believe that the power of love is bigger than everything else.

Gotta go, Amanda's trying to sleep and she says the keyboard noise is annoying.

With love, T

To All My Loyal Fans

All five of you. OK, three of you. Honestly, well, to all one of you. . .Hi Mom! Anyway, to anyone who might be wondering why I haven't written all week when I usually blog as though I have no real life. As it turns out, I do have a life.

It's called going back to work full time. Not only do I have less time to blog, but I have less thoughts to blog. All my brain power, which isn't a whole lot to start with, is going into figuring out my job. Which is great, but just needs lots-o-thinking. The good news is that there is a lot of cool stuff going on at work. More later.

In the meantime, that author Kurt Vonneget died today. In hearing his eulogies on public radio -- which I listened to on the bus to and from work -- he sounded the kind of guy that I would probably like. The kind of author that I would like to read, dark humor, plainspoken and all. He said that if you are destined to write, you just will. And if people read your stuff, they just will. No reason to go way out and plan things. Will need to look him up. Bob said he's read some of his stuff. Evidently, he wanted his gravestone to say something like, "The only proof I need of the existence of God is music."

Nice.

Trying to get the pandas showered and in bed, so I can go to bed. I'm exhausted. Oh yeah, and one of the pandas and a group of friends have started their own blog. :-)

With love, T

P.S. Got the big Mayo Clinic packet today with Bob's cardiology appointment stuff. First round of tests scheduled for May 7 at 6:35 a.m. HA! They obviously do not know my husband.

Happy Easter!

We hope you have a blessed Easter. I am reminded that we had hoped that today, Easter Sunday, would be Bob's 'coming out' from the cave. And well, as you know, he got better a long time ago. Actually 'came out' on Ash Wednesday, six weeks ago. Pastor Sue said that resurrection is about flesh and blood. We know this to be true in the Speirs household. And too, we also know in a real personal way the power of the spirit. And the two together is like, wow, almost like a mind bender. Human + divine = Christianity.

Here's more information on Haile Selassie, who my neighbor Elieshi described as a 'good man' when I asked her about him. I was thinking about him as I stared at the Ethiopian cross during church today. And as the Ethiopian women elders came forward in their traditional dress to redress the alter. Almost like we were right there, 2000 years ago when the women found the tomb empty.

Peace and joy to you, friends. Thanks so much for coming over.

Love, T

P.S. There are some little people around here who have started their own blog.

Happy Birthday Shanghai Tom!

Hello and welcome to the liver blog.

We would like to send a warm birthday greetings around the world to Shanghai, China (see East coast of map) where Bob's brother Tommy teaches English at Shanghai University. Having taught in Thailand and Korea, and earning his black belt way back long time ago in his Brooklyn days, NYC is more like the second home, Asia being the first. I think it was the karate teacher that got him all interested in Asia.

And he even came for Bob's graduation last May. Front row, left, man in white.

Here's a factoid in honor of Tommy's birthday, straight from the Lonely Planet website: China is one of the world's last great smoking reserves, with smoking permitted everywhere except airports and railway stations. China makes up 20% of the world's population, but smokes 30% of the world's cigarettes. More about China here.

I have not read any memoirs that relate to China, hmmm. . .better get on that. Besides Tommy, my closest kin to China is our pastor's exchange daughter, Cecilia (who served at the benefit) and my love for Feng Shui, the Chinese art of placement according to positive energy flow. I think my longing for Feng Shui stems from the fact that generally it does not exist for me. Coming soon.

Happy Easter everyone! :-)

Love, T

P.S. Aidan is starting karate next week, with his buddy Chan.
P.P.S. Oh yes, as an advocate for language immersion learning, I have to mention that St. Paul now also has a Chinese Immersion school. Full instruction in Chinese starting on day one of kindergarden, especially designed for kids from English speaking households.

And Speaking of Resurrection -- More Benefit Pictures

OK, I know it's Good Friday, but we can start thinking about joy, gratitude, and resurrection. Right? Tonight in church, after they killed Jesus, the choir sang a song and Aidan whispered to me, "What does 'alleluia' mean?" It was kinda hard to describe that to him since it is Good Friday and we're supposed to focus on death and all. Anyway, I thought these pictures were a good way to show what ALLEJUIA means. These pics come with thanks to the amazing church secretary, Bob's boss during his internship year, Mrs. Bobbie Kuhlman, who is surely not reading this because she is busy visiting some special little granddaughter.

Blessed Easter!

With love, T

P.S. More pics to come. Oh, what the hey I just went ahead and uploaded more, with thanks to Alison Schmidtt, seminary photographer. Now, my husband is considering himself an official blogging widower.

P.P.S. If you have sound, turn it on. :-)

How to Vacation like the Pizzafanny Family

Check into the nearest Embassy Suites.
Less than 10 mile drive is advised.
Play John Denver during the drive.
Take me home country roads down I35.
Try to wake up early enough to go down for the free cook-to-order breakfast.
Swim, swim, swim.
Hot tub.
Be secretly glad that the waterpark of America is maxed out at 3,000(!) people and so the Pizzafanny family can't get in.
Go back to the Embassy Suites.
Swim. Do crazy jumps.
Nap.
Go to free manager's reception. Read. Play cards.
Swim.
Order Pizza for all the fanny's. Watch a movie in the room.
"Music and Lyrics." Laugh out loud at Hugh Grant's 80's dance moves.
Sleep. Repeat.
Drive ten miles back home again.
First, though, go to the movies.
Watch "Are we Done Yet" with the funniest character ever, "Chuck." Realtor/Contractor/Baby Whisperer/Worldclass Walking Champion
Laugh.
Go home and be glad.
Forget to watch American Idol. Catch Melinda from last night on u-tube.
Chat with neighbors who come over with tea.

Laters, gators! Thanks for coming over to the liver blog. With love, T

One Day I hope I am Forgiven

But for tonight, I just can't resist this picture because it is just so Aidan.

Thanks for coming to the liver blog. Goodnight everyone!!

With love, T