D Day Minus 225 (July 26, 2009)

I got fed up with weeding and avoiding poison ivy so I showered with Dawn and covered my legs with a jewelweed salve. Remember, you tried to find it in Roanoke last month, when I first got poison ivy. You couldn’t find it, so I ordered it off eBay.

Anyway after all that, I finally took my monkey feet for a real run. You laughed when you first saw them – my black Vibrams Five Fingers – and deemed them monkey feet. I heard about them when I listened to Born to Run the weekend before the Fourth of July in Bassett. Dad barbecued hamburgers on the grill by the back porch. We sat on the reclining lawn chairs Dad bought to observe the stars. Stanley (that is what you named him) the black cat kept coming up to you wanting you to pet him the entire evening. I teased you that he knew you had a good soul. You lit the stinky citronella candles to fend off all the mosquitoes. After we ate, you and Dad rocked in the chairs and stared at the chimnea. I listened to my book. It was about Christopher McDougal’s quest to find out why his foot hurt when he ran. Through his quest he found a tribe of superathletes who ran barefoot. They ran for days and stayed in a peaceful meditative state. The state I craved every since Morgan was depressed in Middle School.

I only had one earbud on so I could half listen to you and Dad.  I stopped the book and added my pearls of wisdom and wit on dating. I would be your wing-mom. You and I would go down the street to the ABC Liquor Store to troll for your dates. I would even buy you new wife-beaters to make it special. You laughed while Stanley rubbed up against your leg – close to the scar from your biopsy.

I hit play on my iPod and listened to Kelly Howell’s Running Meditation. It had binaural beats which is supposed to get you into a relaxed state pretty fast. I watched my form, shoulders back, head aligned, hands relaxed, so I would not hurt my knees. After the fifth loop or so things I was grateful for just kept popping into my head like:

1. We would be able to make travel arrangements tomorrow.
2. You got your job at Wegmans.
3. You had Katie.
4. Dad was going with you to Houston.
5. Morgan was working out and eating better – thanks to you.
6. The fun we had with our Abraham humor and how it made us feel so much better.
7. You didn’t show any outward signs of cancer.
8. Your hair would grow back.
9. The weather was beautiful.
10. My knees didn’t hurt when I ran.
11. Dad was smiling while he mowed.
12. I just had a little poison ivy on my ankle.
13. We could plan a trip to Hawaii to take when you finished treatment.
14. All the books and music on my iPod.
15. Zebras.
16. Flexibility in my job.
17. Some cash reserve.
18. The fun I had hiding my contraband from you.
19. Your obsession with organic and healthy foods.
20. Our extended family and friends.

After my run, I grabbed the cordless phone from the living room, and plopped on a rocking chair on the front porch. I just dialed our number to the house in Sterling. Before I could hit send, you said, “Mom, is that you?”

“It’s me.” I said as chills ran down my spine. “I was just thinking of you.”

And you said, “So was I.”

We had another one of our synchronicity calls. They started with your Interferon treatment.