The Catch

I mentioned that we went to the JFCC-IMD picnic last Friday. Had a terrific time. The weather was perfect. It was held at the Farrish campgrounds which are military-owned and set in the mountains about 40 minutes from here--gorgeous scenery. No insects to bother us. A few moments to share:

1. The reason we had so much fun is that Joshua is now 3. Overnight, it seems, he changed from being a toddler who needed pretty intense supervision, to being a little boy who could run with the Big Dogs. And run he did. There was a little playground next to the picnic pavilion, and because we were so secluded, the kids were free to play here and there with the pack of other children. I so enjoyed not having the responsibility of being right next to a child the entire time.

2. Bryan has only told a handful of people at work what we're dealing with, the handful who are most impacted by his being out of the office at random times. These guys made a point of telling me I'm in their prayers, and offering their help to us. It was very sweet. And here is where I'll point out that I didn't wear my fake boob. Not only do I hate that thing (writing about this is for another day), but I kind of felt like these were people who were already so supportive and already knew about everything. . .what would be the point?

Plus, I didn't want to confuse anyone who had only been hearing scattered details around the work place. "So. . .you did have a surgery?... Or...well. . .I mean, what kind of cancer did you have again?"

3. One guy caught me off to the side and shared this kind of sentiment. Then he told me that he was a two-time survivor himself. At age 35! Both thyroid and "ventricular" cancer, within 2 years of each other. (Bryan had no idea when I told him, as this apparently hasn't been a life-defining experience for Nick. This in itself was encouraging to me.)

Nick had a port both times, and I was glad to ask him whether it ever feels comfortable. Because, almost 2 weeks after the installation, my port is still very uncomfortable. He said he never got used to his.

It felt really good to "talk cancer" with him, possibly because he had been so young, too. There is a peculiar sense of camaraderie there. "Peculiar," I guess, because I hadn't realized that I'm now in a Club. When we were done talking, he gave me a hug and I will never forget the feeling of that much compassion packed into that short a moment.

4. Colonel Putko's wife, the other Colonel Putko, not only has 6 children, she also has a PhD in rocket science. And they're both still active duty Air Force. The Mrs. Colonel Putko brought stuff for the kids to launch rockets using 2 liter soda bottles, water, a launching tri-pod and high-speed air pumps.

The directions, after the rest of the stuff was rigged up, were to pump up to 70 or so and then pull the pin.

Bryan helped Gemma and Josh launch rocket after rocket.

Pretty soon I realized that each launch, the kids would pump for a little bit, then he'd pump after them, but that with each rocket, he'd pump a little longer.

And the bottles blew higher and higher and higher, with Bryan giggling each time a little more, a little more.

He pumped up to 180--180, people!--before breaking the Mrs. Colonel Putko's high speed air pump.

But the Mr. Colonel Putko and Bryan's other boss who was launching rockets with his kids, and who was also competing for height, both laughed and laughed about it.

5. The day, for me, culminated in The Egg Toss.

Do you know this game? I grew up watching the adults play it at the Ferrone Family picnic. Maybe I even played a little myself in the later years. It's just like a water balloon toss--find a partner, throw it back and forth, each time taking one giant step backwards.

Bryan wouldn't play, so I was partners with this guy named Mike. We were doing pretty well. Holding our own. He knew the drill about bringing the egg in for a soft landing, especially once the distance becomes great.

Then he launched the egg to me with what was not such a great throw. It was coming in high and to my right. I reached out, way up, a little behind me and snagged that egg, without breaking it, with what must be one of the Top 10 catches in Egg Toss history.

It was breath-taking.

The other competitors applauded. We went on to win the game. And on the way home, I was like George Costanza revelling in his great parking space.

"Bryan! Did you see that catch? It was incredible! I would still be raving about it even if it had been someone else's! That's how great a catch it was. . . Man. What an amazing catch."

Then I realized: I had caught it with my right arm. My right arm! The arm that I wasn't going to be able to lift above my shoulder! The arm that would still be healing around now if the muscle had come out!

And right there in the car, I teared up. God has been so good to me. He has spared me the worst, and preserved me for a beautiful day to enjoy with my family, and freed me to win the Egg Toss with a spectacular, full-extension catch of the most fragile thing in a fairly harsh circumstance.