There's a Woman on This Street with Parakeets (Audio)

ITP #12: In Episode 12 of Inside the Pomegranate, Anush talks about the comfort in familiarity as it pertains to Team In Her Shoes’ participation in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer Santa Barbara. What do parakeets, signs, clappers, PINK, hills, and pain all have in common? Take a listen! It’s all Inside the Pomegranate.
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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There's a Woman on This Street with Parakeets

I'm sorry I'm a bit late getting this blog out.  I haven't been feeling too well for a few days but I think I'm on the mend.  If you follow my blog you know that I walked in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer this past weekend. We walked 39.3 miles.  Our Team In Her Shoes raised an impressive $12,056. between the 6 of us that walked.  We also had 9 team members on crew this year.  My husband  Neddy and Sugar's husband Zee, and another friend of ours crewed Pack Up. My sister and 3 of my friends (all past walkers) crewed food service.  And Ani (yes, Ani Bubbles) and her friend Stephanie, were on the medical crew!

Best Team ever!!

It was an amazing weekend, as it always is.  This was my 10th time participating.  And while I was on the route with Fr. Vazken, we were about to turn a corner on about mile 34 and I said, "There's a woman on this street with parakeets."  And sure enough, we rounded the corner, walked down about 1/2 a block, and there they were.  The parakeets.  In a cage on the front lawn of a home, as it always has been in years past. And Fr. Vazken said, "That's what you should blog about.  The familiarity of things and how it brings comfort."  

It's true.  I have done this amazing walk 10 times in my life.  And most all of those times were in Santa Barbara.  The first time I signed up to do the Avon Walk was back in 1998...when the walk was a 3 day walk where we traveled from Santa Barbara to Malibu - 60 miles - doing 20 miles a day.  I was younger then.  But I signed up that year to celebrate my 5 years of remission from breast cancer.  I remember the walk fell right on my anniversary day - October 22.  It was the day I finished my last radiation treatment 5 years prior, and they told me then that if I make it to 5 years without recurrence, you can consider yourself cured.  So what better way to celebrate than to give back and do this walk.  I walked alone that year, and along the way, I met survivors, and people that were walking in memory or honor of their loved ones.  I met those battling cancer right at that time, with no hair, and scarves or hats.  After spending the past 5 years worrying about recurrence, doctor's check ups, blood work ups, mammograms, this walk empowered me.
It elevated me.  And I was hooked.  I walked that same 3 day, three more times and then
took a break for a while. And then Avon announced that they were changing course and having a 2 day, 39.3 mile (Marathon and a half) instead.  And I signed up...and I haven't stopped.

Raise your hands up and keep them
up if you're a survivor!

Looking back now...there definitely is a comfort there in the familiarity of the event.  And because this experience has been so great for me,  I wanted to share that experience with whomever wanted to join in.  Last year we had 18 walkers, most of them first timers.   I was the team leader and mother hen.  I organized training walks, and fundraisers.  I sent out packing lists and play-by-plays of what needed to be done.  It was a lot of work, but what it did was make my walkers' first experience so memorable, that some of them signed up again for 2013.  Maybe not to walk, but to support...to participate, to be there and stand up for the cause.  And I so appreciate all their efforts.  Because a walk of this proportion requires so many staff and logistics personnel to make things run smoothly.  And my team was part of that as well.

I was thinking about what it is that makes this so familiar for me.  I mean, it's a once a year event and there are 363 days in between to think about, but the feeling is so powerful and the impressions so vivid, that I thought I'd share with you.

There is familiarity in PINK.  From the moment you arrive at Event Eve the Friday before the walk to the time you head home after the closing ceremony, you are surrounded in pink.  Pink Ribbons, shirts, pink bubble gum, pink Reeboks, you name it, they have it in pink.  You just know, year after year, that there will always be pink there.  And it envelopes you.  You want to wear pink to show you're part of the group. Even my husband - who hates pink! - wore his pink crew shirt for the closing ceremony.

There is comfort and familiarity in preparing my pack for the walk.  I have it down to a science.  I carry with me the names of those that are fighting cancer, have won, have lost the battle.  Those hang from a carbeaner for people to see.  My pack carriers my water, a pen, a lot of blister bandaids, Alleve, lip balm, cell phone, bandana and my ID.  This year, I felt like the patron saint of blisters, because seriously, I distributed those blister bandaids any time I came across a fellow walker who had a shoe and sock off at the side of the road.

Opening ceremony

I never get enough sleep the night before, though I always try, but I guess it's the excitement of the next day. Morning comes and off we go.  Drop off your duffle bag and sleeping bag at the truck and head over the the opening ceremony.  The sun is just peaking up, and we meet up with the team on the right side of the stage. Everyone's got their pink on.  Every year is a surprise with what people will wear, but the familiarity is in that there will always be surprises.  This year we saw two men in pink plaid kilts walking.  The usual pink wigs and tutus.  Capes with the names and photos of loved ones.  Tshirts with team names and cute sayings.

The ceremony begins. We are told that every three minutes someone gets diagnosed with breast cancer.  Sadly, this is familiar....for the past several years.  The statistic hasn't changed.  A small group of people people approach the stage and each tells their story.  One has battled cancer, one has lost a loved one, one is a teen whose life has changed by it, one is battling now.  Each puts a pink ribbon around the other's neck.  The ribbon says 'every three minutes" and we're told that throughout the weekend, these pink ribbons will be randomly distributed to remind us that within the short time that we're together during the weekend, that many lives will be changed forever by a cancer diagnosis.  And then, so you can feel the connection of the weekend and the disease that brought us together they ask you to raise your hands and hold them up if you're a survivor.  Up go my hands.  Up go my friend Sugar's hands.  Then raise your hands if you're participating because someone you love is affected by breast cancer.  Up go more hands.  Raise your hands if you're there because you have lost someone to breast cancer.  More hands go up.  Now reach out and take the hand of the person next to you.  There we stand all of us hands in the air, holding on to each other. It's the most beautiful thing.  And very emotional.  In that moment you realize the connection.  How this terrible disease is affecting each and every one of us who are there.  The walk officially begins this way.  And off we go.

I love the cow man!

We follow the coast heading north.  It's beautiful.  And there are so many walkers.  You can see all the people walking for their loved ones.  The sound of the people who are supporting us walkers are all familiar. Friends and neighbors, sleep children in their pajamas sitting in front of their homes,  volunteers,  all come out along the route to cheer along this moving sea of pink.  Clapping, cheering, plastic clappers, cowbells, applause and "thank you's".  There are those that volunteer every year to cheer.  I have my favorites.  There is a woman that is there year after year.  She's got her sparkly pink TOMS on.  She pulls her car over, puts on her Shania Twain CD, and dances as we walk by.  Last year I noticed a quiet, unassuming volunteer on the route.  She would applaud us quietly as we walked by.  This year, I saw her again.  As I walked by all I said, was "Hey, I remember you!  You were here last year."  This woman was so excited that I remembered.  "Yes!  Yes, I was here!"  She gave me a hug and I thanked her for cheering for us.  For the next 39 miles, she was my best friend.  Each time I saw her I approached her with "Hi, favorite cheer person!"  And this of course would make her smile and wave at us.   There are always three older ladies with pink wigs and outfits that cheer, dance and sing for us.  There's a man dressed as a cow - udderly ridiculous.  He cheers, offers walkers sublock and reminds us to stretch. All of these volunteers do their thing for us, and then get in their cars, go a few miles up the route, and do it all over again, all day long.  All weekend long.

The route is marked with pink signs and mile markers. Catchy, funny, and sometimes motivational sayings like, "I Pink I can, I pink I can, I know I can." or  "Blisters don't need chemo"  When you first start the walk, you find yourself stopping for photo ops along the way at the mile markers.  Mile 1?  Maybe not.  But mile 3, mile 5 for sure, mile 10. But as the day wears on, and the reality of the number of miles ahead settles in, you start walking with a goal. The photos become less frequent.  The goal is to get to your rest stop ahead of

One of the signs that mark our route

schedule. Because each rest stop has a closing time, and you'll be shuttled to the next stop if you fall behind so it's important to pace yourself on the walk and do at least a 20 minute mile consistently to avoid what they call "being swept."

The hills are familiar to me.  I have to say that this year was my best year.  I usually hit a wall somewhere around mile 20.  But this year I was okay with it all.  As soon as I hit mile 17, the remaining miles are in the single digits....9 miles to go.  8 to go.  When we hit 6, Fr. Vazken said, "Six miles.  That's 2x around the Rose Bowl ...we can do that."  It was constant inner dialogue like that.  And as we got to about mile 21, there was familiarity in the ocean, the beautiful surf, the fine mist of the waves crashing.  We were walking along the Montecito estates.  The prettiest part of the walk.  I remembered that years prior, when Ani and I were walking this path, we made up a story and tried to see if we could get a rumor started.  We knew that Oprah Winfrey had a home in Montecito.  When we were around a group of walkers, we started talking about how this particular estate was Oprah's home.  That year on that day there was actually preparation for a large party at that estate, and we overheard our rumour catching wind.  Walkers were trying to look through the fence to see Oprah's house.  Year's later, I always think of that walk with Ani whenever I pass that home.

Energizing bachigs from Ani!

At mile 24, Ani is working the rest stop.  She offers hugs and muscle rub.  Its great having a nurse daughter.  She also had a stash of clean ice that I wrapped in my bandana and tied around my neck.  The buses are lined up there, ready to take those that can't go on over to the wellness village.  Keep walking.  Around mile 25 a woman standing on the side of the route, puts a pink ribbon around my neck.  Every three minutes.  I am part of the statistic.  You know that mile 26 is around the corner when you hear the cheering.  Mind you, it's not just 26 miles on that first day, but 26.2 miles.  And that .2 takes forever!  But finally, as you enter the wellness village, you hear the cheering, and the clapping.  This year, my husband was on crew and so he was there when I crossed the Day One finish line.   As familiar as it is to cross it, it was way better to see him there.  There are other familiar faces too.  The Avon staff and volunteers are there.  There is a tent set up with foot massagers, and you plop down on the chair, slip off your shoes and let the little mechanical massager work it's magic.  In the short time that you're seated there, talking with your friends old and new, this terrible stiffness and soreness creeps in.  And you really wonder where it came from so suddenly.  Even that's familiar.  Standing up is painful. Sitting down is painful. Walking is painful.  It's all painful.  My legs, my hips...but not my feet.  My feet were fine....no blisters!  As painful as it is, you know that tomorrow, you'll be okay.  Sore or not, you're going to wake up, lace up your shoes, and hit the road for another 13.1 miles!

The wellness village is like a tent city.  The big tent has hundreds of tables and chairs where you can sit and have your dinner visit with friends, charge your phone, watch the entertainment.  There is a tent for medical care; a tent for chiropractic; a tent for massage; a mini store; and a tent for yoga stretch.   This year four of my team members worked in food service including my baby sister, Sona.   Our girls were hilarious, always bringing their craziness and fun with them.  Two of them wore Wonder Woman aprons, and two wore aprons with bikini bodies on them.  They were having a great time serving up the hundreds and hundreds of walkers with their smiles.  There are tents, and there are portapotties.  And there are amazing shower trucks with wonderful hot private showers.

After dinner, I sat near the phone charging station to charge up my phone, and I had a conversation with a nice man named Ricky.  He was just sitting there.  Long hair to his shoulders, a friendly smile.   We spoke while we waited.  In a little bit, Ani came up and joined us.   Ricky had lost his mother to breast cancer.  He looked to be in his 50's.  Was a gardener from Texas.  We shared mom stories.  My mom has been staying with us.  And Ricky said that when his mom got diagnosed, she called him to come home.  He was her caregiver.  He told me that he would try to keep up her spirits in the end, but the cancer had spread and she wasn't up to anything.  Eventually she passed.  He was there with her.  He said he missed her terribly.  For the first few months after his mother died, he didn't know what to do.  And then he heard about the Avon Walk.  Despite the fact that his brothers discouraged him, he signed up.  And he has been walking in her memory for the past 4 years.  He said, "I have to do something.  This is what I do.  Once a year.  For her." The following day Ani shared with me in passing.  "Hey Mom, I saw your friend Ricky this morning around mile 10.  He was wearing a cape."  : )   That's another great thing about the walk.  It's okay to wear your cape.

There's a woman on this walk who is an icon.  Her name is Barbara Jean.  This woman has to be in her late 70's, and she has walked EVERY walk in each of the cities that it's held in, every year for the past 16 years. Santa Barbara, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Denver....if there's an Avon Walk she's there.  Walking in memory of her husband.  She walks with her daughter, and this year her granddaughter was on the Youth Crew.  Truly amazing, this woman has raised over $1.5 million dollars for breast cancer.  When you're walking on the route, her familiar cape pinned with ribbons that hold the names of those that she's walking in memory of is a reminder that anyone, no matter what age, can make a difference as long as you have a caring and compassionate heart.  She deserves the cape; she's a super woman.

Yn. Susan, Fr. Vazken & I at Mile 39!

The next morning you don't have too much time.  Get dressed and cleaned up, pack up your sleeping bag and your tent, put your duffle bag on the truck, have breakfast, fill up your water,  and be ready to hit the route ready to tackle another 13 miles.  Everyone is moving a little slow on day two.  And the soreness seems to get greater and greater as the miles go on but you don't dare stop.  We walk on, and one.  The motor crew - bikers that volunteer for the event - with their dyed pink beards, ask more frequently now: "How are you doing?  Doing okay?"  And finally, a short walk up a hill, and through one of the final residential areas....this is where the parakeets are.  They're there every year.  I've never seen the person they belong to but passing by this manicured lawn , you can't help put spot the cage of parakeets.  So colorful.  This is my reminder.  A reminder that this journey - at least for this weekend - is almost over.  As we near mile 39, we hear the music and the cheering of the crowds.  The finish line is only a short block away, but in order to make it a true 39.3 miles, they route us down two blocks and across three and then back...and finally the finish line is in view.  The mile 39 marker is there, and  everyone lines up to take a picture with it.  Approaching the finish line we're greeted by our family, and the rest of our team.  It's emotional.  We hold hands and raise them in victory.  We hug. And cry. And laugh.  And take pictures.  39.3 miles. Familiar miles.  An all too familiar disease.   Friendships made because of it.  Friendships stolen because of it.  And because of cancer research, lives are saved as well.

The closing ceremony is for all our family and friends.  All the walkers walk in together....then the survivors

My breast friend Sugar and I at
closing ceremonies.  We're survivors.
Sorry for the "hat hair"

make an entrance....followed by all the crew members who helped make the walk happen.  And then we get to see how the money we raised is distributed as Avon presents the checks to the various community organizations that are recipients.  That's what's good about this walk:  the money stays within the community and the community benefits with cancer research, mammograms for the needy, meals for those battling cancer. Again we're asked to raise our hands in the air, reach out and hold the hand of the person next to us. We observe a moment of silence for those who are no longer with us because of this disease.  And to me, it's a time to recommit myself to the cause.  I will keep walking.  I will keep fighting.

The walk is empowering.  When cancer hits it's easy to think of yourself as a victim.  I mean this is something that happens TO you.  You're definitely not in control.  But when you walk this walk, surrounded by so many others that have walked in your shoes, and you in theirs, you put that victim mentality aside, and you become the victor!

I was telling our family and friends after the closing ceremony, that we've all heard about drugs like PCP that give the user superhuman strength and allow them to do the unimaginable.  Alone, I don't think that I would be able to walk 39 miles in 2 days' time.  But together, with the love, support, prayers, and by the God's Grace, we are able to do amazing things.  We can turn IMPOSSIBLE, to I'm POSSIBLE!

I want to take this opportunity to thank all of your for your prayers donations and support.  Especially your prayers for a blister-free walk because I didn't get the blisters this year and I know it was because of those prayers. I also want to thank you for giving me the honor of walking in memory, honor or celebration of your loved ones.  I carried them with me every step of the way and I felt your thoughts and prayers with us too.

I also want to congratulate our Team, In Her Shoes for once again, making this weekend a memorable one. We did it.  AND, I want to let you all know that sign ups for Avon Walk 2014 started that afternoon at the closing ceremony, and I'm proud to say that Team In Her Shoes 2014 ALREADY has 12 members!!
So think about it.  If you're interested in walking, or crewing next year, drop me a line.  If you have your doubts about being able to do it...c'mon!  We'll do it together!

Remember:  Whether you believe you can, or you believe you can't, you're right!!
Believe you can!  Make a difference!!  Be the change.
xoxo

It's Not Just for Teens... (Audio)

Our children are our greatest treasure, and they grow up with the examples that we, as parents, set for them. In Episode #6, Anush tackles a 50 year old post geared toward Teens, and turns it around to allow us to see how we can facilitate our children to rising up to their full potential. It's all Inside the Pomegranate.
Links: Pomegranate & Eye handmade jewelry by Anush
Avon Walk Team In Her Shoes Page
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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Subscribe to Inside the Pomegranate by Email
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It's Not Just for Teens...

This week, I wanted to talk about something that was posted on Facebook.  You know how it goes.  People post things, and if you like that post, you have the option of sharing it with your friends.  And although I understand what is being said in this small post, I was a little miffed by it.  I posted it up top, so please read and I'll tell you what I think.  

Now the fact that this article had no author sent up a red flag.  Is this for real? or just a phoney baloney fake aimed to get a reaction. I did some research and found this on the Huffington Post website.  It said, " According to a 2010 post on the newspaper's website (the Pierce County Tribune), staff members came across a clipping with a letter from Judge Phillip B. Gilliam of Denver, Colo., published on Dec. 17, 1959. The website seems to suggest that the letter originally appeared in theSouth Bend Tribune a few weeks earlier. The full text of what may be the original letter can be found on the Pierce County Tribune's website and it ends with different words than those presently circulating on the web but essentially says the same thing.  Basically, stop your whining and do something productive.  

Okay then...so the article is legimate.  So going back to it, what do I think is wrong with it?  I guess I found it somewhat hypocritical ...kind of a "do as I say, and not as I do".  As a parent, I think it's really important for us to understand that our children don't just have lives of their own. They don't just "turn out" the way they are.  Chances are, if we are agreeing with the letter above, then we have,  somewhere along the line,  missed teaching a lesson to our children somewhere along with road. 

There are many, many youth that are doing a LOT to change the world. For example,  nephew is just returning from a month in Armenia with a group of kids his age.  They have been volunteering their time and talents at an orphanage there.  How many of us adults can say that when we were younger we volunteered a month of our time?  (or can we say that now?) And why did they do this?  Most assuredly, you can bet that their parents were behind them teaching them the importance of giving back to their community. 

Last year I learned about Malala Yousefzai, a 14 year old Pakistani girl that was shot in the head because she dared to want an education.  Obviously, she learned the importance of learning from her father who is  a teacher.  I don't know if you've followed her story, but this is one courageous, unstoppable young woman.  Despite the fact that she almost died, she is out there today, speaking on behalf of those that are repressed and kept from reaching their full potential by being denied an education.

These are just two examples.  I'm not saying that ALL kids are doing things to help themselves and their communities, but many are.   Yet how any of us are doing all that WE can do to make the world a better place?  Or even making our communities better?  I've never been one to look down on the younger generation.  Our kids are a product of their environments.  Just like hatred, bigotry and intolerance are learned, so is complacency.   And so are compassion, caring, sharing, love, tolerance and kindness.  

So let's go through this:   The judge says, mow the lawn, wash the windows, learn to cook, build a raft, get a job, visit the sick, study your lessons and after you've finished, read a book. Some of this I agree with.  When I was growing up, Saturday meant chores day.  My job was to dust (and let me tell you, I'm not a fan of dusting to this day!)  But as children, we knew that mom couldn't do it all, so Saturday was our day to pitch in and help around the house.  As we got older, our chores broadened to include more things.  And if we wanted to do anything on Saturday night with our friends, you'd better believe our chores had to be done.  At a young age, if we include our children in small family activities, I think they grow up feeling that they are an integral part of the family.  That their contribution to the family unit as a whole, however small they may be, is important. 

As far as visiting the sick, I know this article is meant for teens, but seriously, unless we as parents have raised our children with caring and compassionate hearts, this just ain't gonna happen!  Think back -- when was the last time that WE visited the sick?  And it doesn't have to be "sick" as in physical sickness, but what about someone that spiritually sick.  Did we bring Christ's love to that person?  What about the homeless?  Do you teach your children that they are just God's children as well? or do we avoid contact, hold your purse tighter, tell your kids not to look and move on?  If the latter is true, then don't expect your children to grow up visiting the sick.  If it's a foreign concept to you, it's going to a foreign concept to them.  

Now building a raft?  I don't know about that one, but the concept is to be creative.  I think it's so important to be creative.  Challenge our minds to start something and see it through despite it's floatability. So I agree!  But again, it's up to us parents to instill in our children that creativity.  Children are naturally curious.  When they ask us questions, even if they seem over the top, rather than brush the question aside with an "I don't know" or "You're asking too many questions, don't you have something to do?", what if we answered them with "I don't know anything about raft building, but we can find out!" and then help them see it through.  If they're young, take a trip to the library.  Find books with pictures, show them.  If they want to look on the internet, sit with them, learn alongside them.  This shows them that 1) you value their curiosity and praise them for it.  2)  you want to spend time with them, and 3) that the chances of you ever building a raft are totally remote, but it's good to have knowledge about this because you an apply it's principles to other projects that may come up in life. Knowledge is power...and the more you know, the more you know!

Study your lessons and read a book.  Now this one we know has to happen.  Studying lessons is important, but telling your kid to read a book AFTER he's just finished studying? Good luck with that.  BUT it can happen if at a young age we, as parents, have set the example of the importance of reading for enjoyment.  Now this is a hard one because now we have recordings of books that kids listen to.  With all the time on facebook and playing Candy Crush Saga, (I admit...I'm hooked!) who has time for reading?  Right?  But reading for enjoyment is such a great escape.  If we as parents can be the example on this one, we are furthering our child's abilities greatly.  The best way, I've found, to go about this is to introduce your children to books at a super early age.  I'm talking about when they can't yet read.  When they are infants.  Those little board books made for their little hands.  Yes, they can't flip the page, and yes, they will just put it in their mouths.  But that's what these types of books are intended for.  Lots of colors and pictures, and a book that your baby can call his/her own.  The act of putting your child in your lap and flipping through this little 5" square of colors and shapes, the action of flipping the page for a new surprise.  All of this translates into "Books are magic!"  And then when they get older, regular trips to the library with their own library card.  Find out when they have story time at the library, and take them to it.  I know what you're thinking, "Who has time for that?"  I know, we're all busy.  But when you take your child to story time at the library, you get to look around for books that interest you too...and then guess what? your child gets to see that Mommy or Daddy like reading. "I want to be like them!  I have my own books too!"  etc.  Make time.  Cut out some of the other stuff.  If you're taking the kids to McDonalds or Starbucks, make a quick 10 minute stop at the library along the way.  Bottom line...if we want your children to be good readers, they need to see US reading and putting importance on it as well.

Your town does not owe you recreational facilities and your parents do not owe you fun. This has a lot to do with what I mentioned above.  If we can encourage creativity in our children, and the love of reading, they will never be bored.  This is the bad part about having your TV be your babysitter -- it stunts creative play.  Here's a good example. when I used to teach kindergarten and first grade, we'd start off the school year with all kinds of great stories, projects, activites, imaginative play, etc.  Come Christmas, some of my students would get play stations or game entertainment systems for gifts.  After that, their creativity and interest would come to a slow and miserable halt.  All they could think about what beating the next level and bonus points.  Creative play...what's that?  Homework would come in with minimal effort.  I could always tell which child received this "gift" because of the huge change. And these would be the kids that would be "bored" much faster than the rest.  Just something to think about when you're picking out this year's Christmas gifts for your child.

Okay, telling your child that you owe the world your time and talent so no one will be at war in sickness or lonely again?  Is this judge a parent?  That's putting so much pressure on our child. Rather than looking to our children for this, let's look at ourselves.  Are we doing everything we can to make the world a better place?  If we don't want the world to be at war, are we doing everything we can to instill peace?  Is our homelife peaceful?  Are WE living peace?  Are we helping our children to look at those that are sick, lonely, and homeless and teaching them that we are all God's children, and we all belong to one another?  Or are we telling them, "See that man there?  He didn't study and listen to his parents, and look what happened to him?"  I've heard that.  As a note, during our In His Shoes homeless outreach, we have met many educated people on the street.  We have regularly provided meals for a homeless man who is an MIT graduate from Ghana living in a box on the street.  A very sweet young man who has the misfortune of being born with a stutter,  he's educated, but "not employable" and is trying to work himself back into a normal life.  So you see what I'm saying.  Every story is different and it's not up to us to judge.

And finally the grow up and stop being a crybaby part.  We  don't need to tell our children to grow up.  They grow up too fast anyway.  In this day and age with the movies and TV that's out there, they are learning way more about "adult" subjects than is appropriate (in my opinion) for their age.  And while "crybabies" can be annoying, I think it's so important to hear our children, and be in tune to their sorrows and sadness.  Because our children are growing up in a society that is so fast paced, with peer pressure and you tube, and the world at their fingertips, being a parent can be challenging.  Do we know what our children are looking at on the computer?  Do we know what's going on in their lives?  When was the last time we asked our child who his friends are?  Do we know our child's friend's parents?  It's a fine line, I know.  We don't want to be the cop, but we can find this out in a loving way.  Sitting down together as a family at dinner is a great time to do this.  In my family, it was the one time during the day that we could all four of us sit down together and thank God for what we had, and discuss our day.  We would learn so much at that time.  By giving our children the time to talk, and giving them our full attention, we pick up on so much that is going on in their lives. In a relaxed atmosphere, they are more at ease to open up to sharing what is happening in their day to day lives. When we provide the stability of a sacred home life filled with God's love and compassion, we set a foundation for our children to reach their full potential of making the change that we wish to be a part of in this world.  We can do it...together...with our children.  

*************************************

On a separate note, special thanks to all of you who are supporting us with your kind donations for Team In Her Shoes' participation in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.  We'll be walking 39.3 miles to raise money for breast cancer research and provide mammograms to women who can't afford it.  

If you would like to partner with us, please visit our webpage at www.avonwalk.org/goto/inher shoes

Still smiling after 39.3 miles.  My husband Ned and a whole bunch of our friends and
family greeted us at the finish line.  I am a 2 x breast cancer survivor!

Photos from Avon Walk Santa Barbara 2011



Opening Ceremony - 6:00 a.m.  We're ready!



 Here are photos of our amazing weekend at the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer 2011.  We walked 39.3 miles in two days.  The photos are out of order, but I put captions. You'll get an idea of what it's like from them.

Basically, it's set up so that Friday evening, you check in at Event Eve.  Turn in any last checks you may have received, take photos, get pumped up.

Day 1:  Opening Ceremony - Walk 26 miles (full marathon) and spend the evening in the Wellness Village

Day 2:  Walk 13 miles (half marathon).  Closing Ceremony.

In between you make a lot of memories, feel the hope and love of those around you, and feel that you really can make a difference.  Enjoy!



Getting started at 7:00 a.m.  We were a sea of pink as far as the eye could see!



Lunch stop at mile 10.6.  Sandwiches and a chance to sit!

Last year's cheerleaders returned.  Their wives were walking again this year!

Ani at event eve, writing out her sign.  I'm so blessed!



Our packs with the names we carry with us.

I'm a little slower in the morning than Ani.  She's telling me to hurry and pack it up.  We need to hit day two at 7:30 a.m.!





Event Eve photo....at check in





Tent City.  New pink tents.  This is where we sleep



Day 2 lunchtime.  Assessing our wounds.







Killer blister. 





Amazing celebration potluck picnic from my family and friends!



At closing ceremony with the other survivors!

Ani, comfy in her coccoon - Morning two

A hug from my baby sister!! 



Still smiling at mile 39.3!!! At the finish line





Memories of Grandma - or - Who's in the Mirror?

My grandmother lived in a duplex on the corner of our block.  She was a survivor of the Armenian genocide, a strong woman of faith, a proud American citizen, and an avid reader.  Se loved to knit, crochet and do needlework.  She also loved to garden.   I think because of the horrors she witnessed during the genocide, the beauty of her garden, the colors, the "life" it held were important and therapeutic to her.   She had a small vegetable garden in the courtyard of her duplex where she grew swiss chard, tomatoes and parsley.  While she tended to the garden, I would play waitress with her, pretending to take her order on an ivy leaf that was my pretend pad.   

She lived on the top floor of the duplex.  When you walked into her home, you would stare right at the stairs that led up to her living space.  Her house smelled like a mixture of palmolive soap and onions, and it was always cool in temperature in the grandma's house sort of way.   As a little girl, one thing that I remember are the large gardening shears that were always on the second stair of the staircase.  I remember how huge and sharp they looked, like old rusty giant's scissors.  My grandma would use these scissors to edge the grass of her front yard.  Not the garden itself, but the grass that grows in the sidewalk sections. 

She took a lot of pride in her garden.  Her knees were bad, and she'd sit on the sidewalk, one knee extended, one knee bent, and she would snip the grass where it hit the edge of the walkway, scooting herself down the plot as she worked.  Her flower garden was beautiful.  She grew fuschia flowers, the pods of which my brother and I would love to "pop" as they hung down in clusters.  She loved showy dahlias and roses, and most especially she loved to grow oriental poppies.  She would harvest the seed pods of the poppies and collect the seeds to put on her boregs and fresh baked bread.  Once she shared with me that when she and her friends were children in Armenia, she would work in the poppy fields, harvesting the pods for opium.  The beautiful red, ruffled blooms brought back happy memories of her childhood.

I've been thinking about my grandmother a lot lately.   When my life feels like it starts to get overwhelming, I think of her and her quiet strength, her faith, and her inner peace.  She had a soft face, a broad nose, her hair was long and always coiled into a bun that was pinned up at the nap of her neck.  Her stockings were knotted at the knees.  Plain.  No make up.  Basic.  Despite my health issues, compared to her life and what she had to endure as a survivor, raising a child as a single widowed mother, my life is a piece of cake. 

Lately, when I look in the mirror, I've been seeing my grandmother.  When I was young, I looked like my father; as I grow older, I look like my mother; but there are certain times, when my hair is pulled back, when I have no make up on, when I'm just plain ol' me when I look like my grandmother.  And last month, when my brother and sister came to visit me in the hospital after the mastectomy, I heard them whisper it to each other, "She looks like grandma!"  My ears heard it...and I was glad, because I thought I had been imagining it.

And the similarities don't end with looks.  I too like to knit and crochet, I love to read, and  I find a great peace in spending time in my garden.  Although I haven't had luck growing poppies, I do love to grow my vegetables and flowers.  Like her, I have bad knees and can't squat, so I do sit...and bend just like she used to. 

Yesterday, my sister Susan came over to help me weed the garden since I'm not able to pull and use my arm too well yet.  Two sisters-in-law, but truly more like sisters, we worked together - Susan turning over and loosening the dirt so that I'd easily be able to pick out the grass/weeds.  We cleaned up the garden together, talking, sharing while we worked.  And then just like my grandma, I picked up my gardening shears and trimmed the edge of the grass against the concrete.  We finished, and came into my cool house -- was it me? or did it smell like palmolive soap and onions?  I went into the bathroom to wash up, and there she was in the mirror.  I look like my grandma.  It's a nice reminder of someone that I miss and hold so dear.

The Good, the Bad and the Achey

It's Memorial Weekend.  And it's been a few days since I blogged.  Life has been fast and slow.  There are times when I feel "normal" again, walking, creating, working on various projects.  And then there are times that I just don't want to do anything:  I don't want to talk, I don't want to get dressed even. 

My abdominal incision is feeling a lot better, but there are times when I am so sore under my arm, on the new breast, across the middle where they tunneled.  The good thing is that this usually happens at the end of the day, when my body gets tired and yells out , "Enough already!  Take it easy, wouldja??" 

Yesterday, I spent most of the day with my brother and sister-in-law Susan.  I had a great day.  We went out walking, smelling the pine and jasmine in their neighborhood,  checking out the pets at the pet store.  I got to see my two handsome nephews (the third handsome nephew was in school), and it was just a very relaxed time with family.  We are so close, but life is so busy.  We don't often get to just spend time together -- where it's not a birthday or holiday, but just quality time.  It was really special.

Back at home, I worked on my new silver pomegranate necklaces and new fundraiser bracelets.  I got them photographed, cropped, ready to list.  And Ani came home.  She asked if we'd like to go see a movie.  The new Woody Allen film, Midnight in Paris, was showing in Burbank.  I thought I'd give it a try.  It was  a great film, but still too soon for me to be sitting in one position for two hours.  I kept getting shooting pains throughout the film....again, reminders from my body that I had just done a little too much today.  :::sigh:::

So here we are, Memorial weekend Saturday.  I listed my new jewelry on Etsy.  It's one o'clock in the afternoon and I'm still in my jammies.  Taking it easy today.  I do need to get out a little, but not for long.  I'm saving my energy for tomorrow.  I'm hoping to make it to church tomorrow....my first Sunday back.

The Garden, Doing Too Much Too Soon & Silver Poms

Yesterday was a good day.  I walked two miles in the morning, came home and sanded and shaped the silver pomegranates, was pretty good about my non-snacking goals (except for the afternoon Oprah sunflower seed extravaganza!), and walked a third mile when my brother came to visit.  It was bra day, and it felt good to have that extra support, to feel normal again.  Today, not so much.  : (   By evening, I was out of my clothes and into my jammies by 6:00.  Just needed to do nothing -- after I torch fired the pomegranates (there's always something to do).  It's hard to explain.  I wasn't "sleepy" tired, but my body was tired...and complaining.  My abdomen (which I didn't really feel had the right to complain since all we did was walk!), was sore...like I had done sit ups all day.  My new breast, after being loosely bound, was tender and achey.  I haven't been taking pain meds for over a week now, but it warranted meds.  "I" didn't feel like I was doing too much too soon, but I guess my body had another opinion.

So this morning, I decided to forego the walk.  Actually, my friend Sugar asked if I'd like to meet her for a walk in Montrose this evening, so I'll get in a short walk (emphasis on "short").  So it's a lazy morning (as far as exercise is concerned).  I slept in til about 8:30.  Made coffee and wire brushed the pomegranates that I had fired last night, and they are happily tumbling in the tumbler in the kitchen for the next few hours. 

My mom is coming over today.  She's bringing lunch.  Despite my insisting that I could fix us something here, that I had food, that I was able to get up and about, and that I am trying to eat healthy, etc.  "I'll bring something light."  God bless her.  Our time together is cherished.   The plan is that we will watch the final Oprah show together.  : )

And finally, this morning, I went out to put the sprinklers on the garden.  It was just a few short weeks ago, pre-surgery, that I was turning the soil, adding organic mix to my terrible dirt, watering, prepping the garden and planting because I KNEW that I wouldn't be able to dig for a few months.  Well, the garden is doing really well, and I thought I'd put up some pics to show progress.  I have tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, chinese peas, green beans, cucumbers, bell peppers, eggplant and a sunflowers around the border of the garden.  Nothing is harvestable yet, but it's looking good.  I need to weed (as the crabgrass is coming in again, but I can't bend.  So maybe I can do it with that little "grabber" tool that my mom bought me??  I wonder?

Before you check out the photos though, I just wanted to add a request.  I know there are a lot of you that are reading my blog.  I really appreciate all the great comments on Facebook, Twitter, etc.  I was wondering if you might consider following my blog?  Just because I like knowing who's reading (nosy that I am.)

Okay, here are the photos.  Have a beautiful day today....and remember to listen to your body and don't do too much!  : )

The garden monsters (notice the crabgrass peaking in)

The Chinese peas are starting to climb

I have bell peppers forming!



The full view, sort of.  with the new pepper and tomato plant that I'll ask Neddy to plant this weekend.  Notice the sunflowers that are about 5" high all the way down the right and in the front bottom.





What I've Learned from Cancer

Since I've been blogging about my cancer, I've received comments and emails from people commending me for my "positive" attitude.  I've been helping another friend through this terrible disease, and that has gotten me thinking about attitude, my feelings about cancer, and coping.  I wanted to share because it hasn't all been positive...at least I haven't been.

Cancer is not fun.  In fact, it's downright scary.  My first time around with breast cancer, I was 34 with two young children.  I was NOT positive at all.  In fact, when the surgeon told me that he recommended a double mastectomy, I was ready to say yes.  I was not proactive at all.  Moreso, I was one that just accepted her fate.  My mom suggested a second opinion.  I remember telling her no.   "Mom, I have cancer!  They want to do a double mastectomy.  I've set the surgery date. I need to do this and get it over with."  I was terrified, depressed, and all I could think about was living through it to be able to raise my children.  My mom was the voice of reason.  The woman of faith that she is, she suggested that I seek a second, if not a third, opinion.  In fact, she threatened that she would be dragging me in my pj's if I didn't get up and get dressed, but we were going, and that was that.  And I did.  It was because of her that I didn't have to have a double mastectomy at 34.  I had a lumpectomy and radiation thereapy, and was able to keep my breasts for another 18 years.  That's what I needed at that time.  Someone to take me by the hand - drag me if necessary - and tell me what to do!

After cancer, after the therapy, I had that invincible high.  I joined the ranks of "survivors" I was able to raise my children.  Life was good.  And I learned a lot from my experience.  And I came to the realization that there was a lesson to be learned from everything in life.  There is a quote from Mother Teresa that I found recently:  "I know God will not give me anything I cannot handle, I just wish He didn't trust me this much."  This ties in with the lesson thing.  I don't think God gives us stuff like cancer to "handle", but I do know that He trusts us with getting through it so that we can learn from it...and carry the message of hope to others.   So after the cancer, I became adamant about reaching out to others with cancer, doing the breast cancer walks, helping others going through it because I've been "entrusted" with the recovery and making it through....now we carry the message forward.

I also learned a lesson in priorities.  I have always thrived on chaos.  My life is always "full" of too many things.  But what cancer showed me back then was I needed to slow down.  God had given me the gift of  life and an opportunity to raise my children, and spend my days with family and friends.  It was a gift and something that I needed to cherish every day.  This thinking has stayed with me for the past 18 years.  I still say "yes" to far too many things...that is just my nature, but each day is a blessing, and my family needs to always come first.

So that was then.  This time, Round Two with breast cancer, I was better prepared.  There was no fear of the unknown.  Sure, I didn't know what a mastectomy/reconstruction would be about, but I had fought the battle once before - twice if you count the colon cancer, so it was more of a call to get on my armor and fight!  Here's how I saw it this time:
Given:  I want to live.  I want to survive.  I want to see Ani's graduation, her wedding....and someday,  son Nareg's wedding (someday), my nephews and niece's graduations, celebrations.  I want to see my children be happy, have families of their own.  Okay, I knew this much.  I am a woman of faith and given this, I know I am in good hands.  God has NEVER left me alone...not through round one of breast cancer, not through colon cancer, not through my divorce.  Those were major things.  But He has also never left me alone through my day-to-day ordinary life: my jobs, my life, my financial troubles, etc.  So why should I think that he would EVER leave me alone now, in my time of need?  That wouldn't make sense, right?  Right!

So, knowing that, I just gave it all up to God.  It made absolutely no sense for me to worry about my surgery.  There's nothing I would be able to do about that part.  I would just have to resign myself to know that I was in the capable hands of my surgeons, guided by God.  What I COULD do is start focusing on the healing.  I could visualize wellness, picturing myself getting a little stronger, a little healthier every day.  I could put it in my head that I WOULD make it to Ani's graduation...and I currently visualize myself there, being present and well.  I can visualize myself as healthy, walking miles in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in September.  The mind is an amazing thing.  With the help of Christ, the healer of all, we have the power to be well!

And finally, I've learned to think of my cancer as a positive rather than a negative.  Since Round One really opened my eyes in respect to my priorities and my faith, I am viewing this as a positive.  What lesson is there to be learned?  Is it a call to slow down?  A call to take better care of myself?  To spend more time doing what I truly love?  Or is it a reminder of how precious family and friends are?  How we are all interconnected in one another's lives....and how much we are loved.  Yes to all!  It's a wake-up call! 

To all of us who have lived with cancer, or who are fighting the fight right now:  Have faith.  Believe.  Trust.  Learn.  And then put on your armor and FIGHT!!! 

Setting Goals - Pushing Forward

When I first got diagnosed with breast cancer this time around, everything came to a screeching halt.  I had so many things going on in my life, and this was just the tip of the iceberg.  One more thing to deal with...but a scary thing to deal with.  I mean, it wasn't just not meeting a deadline...it was dealing with my own health/life.   One of the good things about all this (and yes there is a good side) is that cancer causes you to STOP and assess your life.  You really figure out what is truly important to you.  You look at every day as a blessing.  And you learn to weigh things out a little....keep track of your priorities. 

And there's all this uncertainty.  In fact, everything becomes uncertain and you lose the ability to be in control of things.  Yes, your biopsy came back positive for cancer, but then you have to wait for pathology results...when?  You don't know.  You're in limbo, waiting for someone else to give you the news.  Once you get the pathology report, then you have scheduling to deal with...more tests, surgery, hospital, labs, etc., and once again, you're not in control, but the scheduler, the insurance company, hospital, whomever is.

Because of this, I find myself setting mini goals, pushing myself to meet them.  I remember when my grandmother was alive, she would do this:  "God willing, I'll be alive when you graduate high school."  Graduation came and went.  "God willing, we'll make it to see your engagement..."  Weddings, luncheons, Mother's day, celebrations, Christmas, Easter, etc. 

This time around, I found myself setting the goal of my daughter's graduation.  On June 12 she'll be graduating nursing school.  She's speaking at her graduation, and I found myself telling each of my health care providers that we needed to do everything STAT because I had a graduation to go to and didn't have time for this!  Receptionists, surgeons, anethesiologist, nurses, coworkers, insurance customer service people...everyone knew that "this mom needs to be well and present at her daughter's graduation." And they heard me, and they made it happen!

Today is May 14.  Surgery was 12 days ago.  And it looks like I'm going to be able to make it to graduation after all.  (Hopefully, I'll be able to dress normally...still have incisions that don't make that possible.)  I'm looking at life so grateful right now.  I'm looking forward to being there, watching my baby reach this important milestone.   I thank God for my life, and for the technology that we have available today to detect cancers.  I am truly blessed.  I am a two-time breast cancer survivor, and a colon cancer survivor.

And once we get to the graduation goal...there's a new goal.  The breast cancer walk...and all the training/walking/fundraising.  One goal to the next.  One day to the next.  One minute to the next.  Every day, every minute, every second is a blessing and something to look forward to.  Life is a blessing.

Nobody Look at Me!!! : ) Our First Training Walk

Remember when I said it was a beautiful day out today?  Well, Ani came home saying the same thing.  She had just taken her ATI exit exam and had been staring at the computer all afternoon. She came home and asked if I wanted to start our training today.  I want to...but on the other hand I'm not supposed to do anything to elevate my heartrate for now.  But the sunshine was too hard to resist.

When I told Ani that I'd have to figure out what I can wear...she said, "Just go like you are.  It's not like we're going far anyways."  Now any other time, I totally wouldn't have done it.  BUT I am a two-time cancer survivor here!!!  And  can do whatever I want, whenever I want (okay, within reason). 

So off we went, with my pink, purple, gray floral pajama bottoms, my hot pink "Survivor" shirt from last year's Avon walk (no bra mind you!), my 70's Onco fannypack with my drain tubes hanging out of it.  And everytime a car would go by, I'd cover my face and say, "Nobody look at me!"  We went one block.  And on our way home, walking toward us was a guy that takes the same bus to work that I do...I'm mumbling to Ani, "oh no....I know that guy...."  Ani says, "It's okay, just keep your head down...."  And then right when we were passing each other, I looked up, made eye contact, and said, "Hi!" 

First training walk:  One Block, One week and one day after cancer surgery.
Days to the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer: 130!
How to donate: http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/LosAngeles?px=2246507&pg=personal&fr_id=2060