Cowboy Up!

We had a fabulous family vacation at a dude ranch in Arizona.

Going into this vacation, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Our older son loves horses, but they only allow kids to ride if they are in the kids’ program, and group activities are not really his thing. Our younger son loves groups, but he broke his wrist and it would be in a cast. My husband has a lifelong fear of horses. And given my current physical state, I would not be able to ride. It didn’t look like a winner of a trip.

But I have learned to listen when I am guided to do something, so we set off.

The ranch offers a variety of activities. On a typical vacation, we do everything together, but here, there was so much going on that we also did things on our own. The counselors for the kids’ club were fabulous with our older son, and he took group riding lessons every single day. Our younger son LOVED the kids club; he attended every hour that it was open and talked about it when it was not. My husband rode daily and overcame his fear of horses. He also did a lot of mountain biking. And I was able to do a hike, some writing, and relax.

I also got to meet a blogger I follow, as well as her family. That was a fun surprise!

Toward the end of the week, we all attended a BBQ. It was outside, with fire pits, s’mores and a guitar player crooning country songs. (Obviously, we arrived early. It did get hopping after awhile.)

The kids ran off to play together, with our younger son in the thick of things. I watched the group from afar, and suddenly, it looked like another kid was kicking him. Soon, our son and another boy ran over to me.

The other boy spoke breathlessly. “That kid keeps kicking Lefty, for no reason!” (Our son had picked up that nickname early in the week, and it stuck.)

The kicking kid slunk up behind them with a mischievous smile. I don’t typically discipline other people’s children, so I just said to the group, “No kicking. None of you.”

And they ran off.

A little while later, I glanced over at the kids. It was much darker and harder to see, but it looked like our son was getting kicked again. A lot. And he was.

By all accounts, that same kid just went crazy, kicking him for no reason anyone could give. We figured that the best bet was to separate the fight, remove ourselves (all of us) from the situation and head back to our room. The parents of the other kid were handling him; it sounded like this wasn’t the first time this had happened, and I felt for them.

Lefty had a bruise and cuts on his leg, scratches on his face, a cut lip, and a bruised ego.

The worst part, he noted, was that the two of them would be in kids’ club together the next day. He felt like he couldn’t go.

We assured him that we would figure something out, and we all went to bed.

The next morning, we told him that he didn’t have to go to kids’ club. Everyone had seen what happened and I’m sure we could figure out a way for him to ride the horses outside kids’ club.

But he loved the time playing with his other friends there. He didn’t want to give that up just because of this one kid and this one episode.

He thought about it over breakfast and decided that he wanted to attend the kids’ club after all, if his father and I could talk with one of the counselors.

Of course, we did. She had seen the altercation, so we simply reminded her of what happened the night before and asked if they could help to manage the dynamic. And though Lefty was still a little hesitant, he was also still determined not to miss a minute of fun, so he walked into the kids’ club with his favorite counselor and pushed through any discomfort.

He had a fabulous day. And by two days later, the boys were actually friends.

I hope to remember that when something is really hard. Do I want to give up the other things that I really enjoy in order to avoid what makes me uncomfortable? When I am in a lot of discomfort, do I want to give up on the fun things in life? Just like we talked with his favorite counselor, I may need some help laying the groundwork, but maybe from there, I could get going again?

On our next-to-last day, Lefty was riding a new horse, who bucked and threw him to the ground. He rapidly crawled away, determined that he was okay and got back on the horse.

This is unusual there – they don’t aim for the guests to get bucked. As a result, he got a strong reputation around the ranch as the kid who got bucked and got back on the horse. One of the cowboys loaned him chaps for his next ride, which made him feel like a real cowboy, and they gave him a lasso of his own to take home.

They signed his cast with what is now my new motto:

Living on the Edge

Taking a chemo holiday is a bit scary, with every abdominal twinge and pain making me wonder if this was a good idea.

But since I am indeed on a chemo holiday and the kids are out of school, we decided to take an actual holiday and travel to Moab, UT to visit Arches National Park and the surrounding area.

The massive red rocks, coupled with the fast-moving Colorado River, quickly changed our relationship to the earth.

Our city-slicker, technology-obsessed family became excited about doing anything outdoors: rafting on the river, rock climbing, horseback riding, hiking the rocky hills, picnicking in the National Parks, sitting and breathing the Utah air.

We became calmer, more grounded and less stressed out.

I felt blessed to be able participate in almost every activity. Since the early 1990’s, I dreamed of rafting and camping on the Colorado River. We only did the rafting part, but it nonetheless felt like a dream come true.

On another day, I was amazed to find myself actually climbing an OUTDOOR rock face, something I never thought I would experience!

From city living, our family is accustomed to signs and fences letting us know where we can go for each activity. You walk on the path, not on the grass. You play in the backyard or playground, but not on private property. You climb at the climbing gym. Buildings are everywhere, limiting where you can toss a Frisbee, catch a ball or watch the sunrise. Fences keep us safely on the right side of danger.

However, in this area of Utah, the entire outdoors feels like a playground, with the rules set by nature rather than humans. We can walk or hike anywhere, while we respect and not trample delicate wildlife. We can ride the rapids but the water will toss our raft while we go with the flow and deal with the outcome. We can stand in one spot and turn around 360 degrees without seeing a manmade structure. We can peer into canyons without a fence to safely hold us.

Though the landscape is breathtaking, the freedom can be frightening. As we watched the boys run and play alongside the Colorado River, I tried to focus on their fun rather than obsess over the potentially precipitous drop into the water. However, when we visited Canyonlands National Park and its canyons, I held the kids tightly while we stood a safe distance from the edge and its steep drop.

Not us:

Not us.

Us:

In Canyonlands National Park (Island in the Sky)

Notice my tense look and tight grip on the boys. From our vantage point, we probably missed a more encompassing view but I was not able to stomach the risk of standing on the edge.

On this chemo holiday, I am keenly aware of the contrast between staying safe and living on the edge. When I was initially diagnosed, over six years ago, I was told what to do – what surgery I needed, which drugs I would be taking, how much and for how long – and I followed those instructions. As time passed and I thankfully did better than expected, I sort of entered the Wild West of treatment, where I have more input and freedom around my treatment choices. I discuss chemotherapy dosage and schedule with my doctors. I decide what nausea meds to take. I get to choose when to take a break from treatments.

I have some really good guides to help me make my decisions. I try to remember that, even if this road does not feel well-worn, it has indeed been traveled before and is not fully unchartered territory.

Again, all this freedom can feel scary. When I feel pings and pinches and pains in my abdomen, I worry that I am stepping too close to the edge by taking this break.

But I am here. I remain conscious that a misstep can preclude a big drop and fatal fall, but I remind myself to concentrate on the view and how grateful I am to be part of it. And when I look closely, I can see that life blooms in many places, often where I least expect it.

Love, beauty and blessings,
Marie