Wishing you a joyous Spring

To all our friends, we at the Herndon household (or the Herndon herd as we are sometimes called) are delighted to wish you a joyous Spring, a blessed Passover, a peaceful Ramadan, a happy Easter. I know there are so many religions and sects that I have omitted, but we wish you all a joyous season, a season of peace, rest, and renewal.

This has been a tough week for Ravi. Chemo has laid him low, but amazingly his labs look good. His creatinine level is better than it has been in months. This gives us hope that his kidney injury was acute rather than chronic. He has not needed transfusions or extra fluids. We wish he would take in extra calories, but he is doing an excellent job keeping himself hydrated. This week is his week off from chemo and we hope he can gain some extra ground. Next week begins cycle 6 of 8 for chemo. We hope and pray that we can put chemo in the rear-view mirror by the end of May. Somehow, it is easier to be hopeful in th spring. The snow is melting. Brave little crocus are poking their heads up. Birds are singing and twirling through the skies, singing and looking for mates. Two sparrows are building a nest under our eaves outside the kitchen window. Nikki, our cat, spends hours sitting on the back of my reading chair watching them. He thinks that this is the best prime time TV ever.

So, why am I writing at 4 in the morning? Because this seems to be when my muse kicks into high gear. It may also be because the cat is having his 4am zoomies around the house and decided that since he and can’t sleep, neither can the dogs! I imagine, 2000 years ago, that Mary and Mary Magdalene were also awake, mourning their Lord. They were waiting for daylight so they could go anoint his broken body. Instead, they would find an empty tomb and were given instructions not to seek the living among the dead, but to go and tell the disciples what they had seen. I love that the Risen Christ first appeared to women. They were the last to hold his broken body, they were the first to see and proclaim the resurrection. In a few hours, I will leave for early church. In the meantime, in the darkness, I wait, as Kirkegaard said, “in fear and trembling”. But the sun will come up. Tulips will push up through the dark earth. The bunnies will eat my hostas. The squirrels will dig up my petunias. Spring and new life is on the way.

Thank you to all who follow us. May you have a blessed, amazing, surprising week. Be good humans. Peace, Harriet.