The First Day of Kindergarten

Going off to kindergarten is one of the many pivotal events in a child’s life. Aug 27th was, our son, Zefram Cochrane’s first day of Kindergarten. As with all things he is filled with exuberance and enthusiasm for this new milestone. Zefram by nature is a happy child. He is the quintessential “Tigger.” This is a fantastic approach to the world; but as a care giver of a child that bounces off the walls 24/7 like a super ball it can be overwhelming, leaving you exhausted by the end of the day. Therefore, it will come as no surprise that I am filled with adulation and joy as Zefram takes this huge step into the real world and is gone till 3:30PM each weekday. Admittedly, my life will be easier with Zefram in school because he is like having four children in one body.

However this adulation is tempered with the fact that we have been through the kindergarten routine before. Zefram is my middle child. Every milestone that he reaches with such glee is something that his older brother has already accomplished. Thus it is hard to get excited because (as parents) we have already experienced the event for the first time with our older son. From the parent perspective, it feels like there is nothing different or special about this event. It is easy to fall into a “been there done that” approach. Nevertheless, Zefram deserves our jubilation and if we can not muster excitement for him then we should let his energy and delight set the tone for the day.

As Zefram crawled into my lap (as he does every morning) I am struck by the warmth and affection that he emanates on a daily basis. Zefram gives the best hugs and I love his smile. He talks cheerfully of school and getting on the bus. He is not scared one bit. I hold him tightly to me, I am struck by how grown up he has become yet how he still needs me in his life. I wonder if that is how God feels about us.

To make the first day of Kindergarten extra special for Zefram we all walk to the bus stop as a family. As we walked, Zefram skipped and danced ahead of us down the quarter mile road. There is no doubt that Zefram is an extraordinary child and has so much to offer the world. I am blessed that he is my son. He teaches me about happiness and tolerance. As I wave the final good-bye to the School bus, I hope that he will enjoy the 2 cookies in his lunch and the picture of the rocket that signifies all his dreams taking off. In my head, I am already contemplating how I will welcome him home when he returns. But what strikes me more then anything is the over abundance of love I have for him. He is my middle child but as William Young said in his book the Shack,” I am especially fond of him.”

Iron Girl Triathlon

There are 5 new 2009 Iron Girls today in Crofton Maryland! Five members of Team Terry (including myself) finished the Columbia Iron Girl Triathlon. One of our team members could not race because of last minute medical complications. But being a veteran Iron Girl herself she did the next best thing by coming out and cheering for the rest of us and galvanized the group. Everyone did fabulous. Personally, I finished the Iron Girl in 2:27. My strongest event was the Bike.

I am sure that Terry Hendrix was looking down from heaven and cheering the entire team on. Her spirit was an inspiration while training for the race this last year and she was so thrilled that the pre-school mom’s were doing the race in her name. It is ironic that we started racing for her as a moral booster but it was Terry who gave us the inspiration to go the extra mile. Her never quit attitude helped me conquer my fear of the water. I often would go to the pool and say to myself, “If Terry can go through chemo, I can swim another lap.” Who new I would be able to swim in open water in less then one year from learning something besides the doggy paddle.

I am so grateful to all the people that got me to the finish line yesterday. I have so many people to thank. First of all, I have to thank Team Terry for encouraging me to sign up last November. The Pre-School Mom’s of Crofton Rock. I have secretly wanted to do a triathlon since I saw a mom do one on TV years ago. They gave me the push.

Thank you Kris O’krepki for the lending me her racing bike. Wow—who new you could go that fast. It was totally cool!

I am thankful to my husband who taught me how to swim and introduced me to the bike and watched the kids while I trained.

I am thankful to Mike (who is a 3 time Iron Man) that taught me how to change my gear shifts, rode with me, helped me change tires, gave me lots of pearls of wisdom and encouraged me to sign up for the Mid Maryland Tri Club. He was a Godsend!

Mid Maryland Tri Club was a huge blessing too. They were just what I needed. The support that they gave me was the key to having a phenomenal race. Each one of them helped me in so many ways and gave me encouragement, wisdom, food and friendship. Can anyone ask for more in life? I am eternally grateful.

I am thankful to the Medical Community. The Nurses at Nighttime Pediatrics that cleaned my road rash when I fell off the bike and gave me so much advice. And of course I am forever grateful to Anne Arundel Orthopedic Surgeons for putting me back together. The physical therapist at Waugh Chapel for helping me work through last year’s surgery.

I am thankful for Bikram Yoga. Bikram Yoga of Severna Park & Emily played a big part in my healing process. It gave me a full body work out that was as intense as running a marathon in 90 minutes without the intense pounding on my body. It is my secret weapon of how I kept my strength while I was still healing. I now love Yoga so much that it will continue to be a life long persuite.

I am thankful to Sport Fit. They were a great training ground. I appreciate their daycare, and their great pool. And of course, Arthur who was so fantastic at cheering me on. I will miss his smiling face and him saying “You can do it Mamma.”

I am thankful to Nightmare Graphics for the great race shirts and to Ulman Young Cancer Society for their encouragement and helping us make the connection with Nightmare Graphics.

Also—a big shout out must go to Princeton Sports who are the Nordstrum of the Sporting Goods industry. Stoney helped make sure that I had tires for the bike which they had to specially order. They don’t make wheels like mine since the 1980’s but he got the job done. Also, thanks to Denise who helped me by selling me clipless pedals a week before the race and taught me how to use them so I would not be left in the dust on race day. Without Princeton Sports support I would not have done as well on race day. A thousand thanks!

I am extremely grateful to my Grandmother Iole Kollar who came from Florida to watch me do the Iron Girl. We had Sushi the night before like we did when I was growing up and living together. She has been my best and most wonderful cheerleader all of my life. I can still see her driving the car behind me while I was learning to run for my marathons as a kid. Just having her with me on race day was a source of strength. I love her so much and having her there made all the difference.

Of course no Mom ever does anything spectacular without the thought of their children being close at hand. I am thankful to my 3 little ones for constantly challenging me to be the best Mom that I can be. It was exhilarating when they would run with me when I came into the neighborhood on training runs, or how they came outside to watch as I tried to learn to not fall off the bike.

Also special thanks go out to Christine Kellar for trying to tell our story because some stories grow past the individual and become about us all.

Most of all, I am forever grateful to each person, who reached out with emails, facebook postings, phone calls, and prayers. Each high five, and encouraging word helped me get across the finish line—this support was immeasurably important. Each word spoke directly to my heart.

Finishing the Iron Girl Triathlon has taught me that all dreams can come true, but when we cross the finish line, it is because of the love and support of so many people that helped lift us up to our full potential. A million thanks to everyone!

Team Terry is made up of 5 Mom's that are doing the Iron Girl Triathalon this Sunday, Aug 23rd. One of the Ladies in our group wrote these words to define why we are participating in the race. I thought her words were so poignant that I wanted to post her thoughts.

Team Terry had the humblest of beginnings. The idea of participating in the Columbia Iron Girl arose over a conversation between several mothers talking in a group after dropping their kids off at preschool. A couple of us were turning the big 4-0 and wanted to do something to commemorate the year. What better way to prove your youth than to participate in your first ever triathlon! Eventually, several other mothers also considered it for various reasons and soon, one by one, each of us would show up at school and say “its official, I registered.” So even though turning 40, or being a strong Mom, might be enough of a reason to want to be an Iron Girl, it’s actually just the beginning of this story.

One particular mom in our group was debating her decision to register for the Triathlon. Her name was Terry Hendrix. While she, like the rest of us, wanted to do something out of the ordinary for herself, she had concerns that originated from living with serious complications of Crohn’s disease which might preclude her from training appropriately. She thought on one hand it would be a great way to get in shape and lose a little weight, but on the other hand she was living with complications from Crohn’s disease which might preclude her from training appropriately. She never got the opportunity to think about the decision any further though, because less than two weeks from our original group discussion our friend suffered a seizure and was diagnosed with a rare and very aggressive brain cancer that had spread to her spine. While the rest of us prepared for the race she was in a battle for her life.

Our group, comprised of 5 preschool moms from Crofton Maryland, decided that we would run the race for her. It was our morale booster. We battled the sore, stiff, and pulled muscles while she battled the cancer with chemotherapy and other available treatments. Despite the complications along the way all of us truly believed that Terry would be here to see each of us finish the race. She was the strongest woman that any of us have ever known (emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually) and if anyone could win life’s ultimate battle, Terry could. Unfortunately Terry passed away this Fourth of July at the age of 42 leaving behind a loving husband and 5 year old son.

The five of us have banded together to compete in the Iron Girl and to commemorate the life of Terry Hendrix by swimming, biking and running in her honor. Everyone on Team Terry got involved with the triathlon for different personal reasons; however the death of our dear friend has made this event something bigger than us. It is our intent to take Terry’s memory to the end of the course on race day. We will be racing in shirts that will say Team Terry on the front and her favorite quote on the back: “Love Life and Never Look Back.”

The five Crofton mothers that comprise Team Terry and will be participating in the Iron Girl race in Terry Hendrix’s memory are: Laurel Landry, Jena Cochrane, Cindy Wood, Karen Kuhn, Sarah White, and Carol Streeter. Look for the purple shirts (designed for us by Nightmare Graphics).

The Great Sadness

If there is one thing to be said about me it is that I am a Pollyanna at heart. I am constantly looking at the world through rose colored glasses—sometimes ad nauseam. Nevertheless, even Pollyanna gets depressed. The last several weeks have been a time of “great sadness” as William P. Young coins the term in his book The Shack. Lately, the sadness has been coming in great waves. They wash over me from time to time throughout the day and make me very sleepy and melancholy. My sadness is due to dealing with the death of 5 people in the last 4 months. Three of the people lived to old age—2 did not. These 2 deaths have rocked me to my core.

Ironically it is not dealing with death that has me so sad. It was the sheer senselessness of these 2 deaths that insulted my sensibilities. People are not supposes to die young. The one person who died was in her early 40’s. Within 24 hours another friend of mine was crushed by a miscarriage. She lost a baby that she was overjoyed about the week before. I was struck by the randomness of the world and its arbitrary nature. Neither person deserved their fate. There was no divine justice at work in either of these situations and no way to explain the events besides ‘bad things happen’. The last time that I felt this sad is when I had to deal with the death of a young child. Events like these bring up all sorts of questions. Isn’t there a God? Why does this happen? Why can’t God wipe away this type of suffering?

I understand that a lot of suffering in the world happens because we as humans make bad decisions and thus the bad things can be explained. However, these deaths are totally arbitrary. This is Nature at work—and these events are as chaotic to the brain as the random effects of a tidal wave or a hurricane are to the sea shore. I am furious at God! Can this really be his will? In an attempt to feel better I think about Rabbi Kushner’s book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People. His words bring me a sense of peace where I have not found much:

Life is not fair. The wrong people get sick and the wrong people get robbed
and the wrong people get killed in wars and in accidents. Some people see
life’s unfairness and decide, “There is no God; the world is nothing but chaos.”
Others see the same unfairness and ask themselves, “Where do I get my sense of
what is fair and what is unfair? Where do I get my sense of outrage and
indignation, my instinctive response of sympathy when I read in the paper about
a total stranger who has been hurt by life? Don’t I get these things from
God? Doesn’t He plant in me a little bit if his own divine outrage at
injustice and oppression, just as he did for the prophets of the Bible? Isn’t my
feeling of compassion for the afflicted just a reflection of the compassion he
feels when he sees the suffering of his creatures?” …No one ever promised us a
life free from pain and disappointment. The most anyone promised us [is]
that we would not be alone in our pain, and that we would be able to draw upon a
source outside ourselves for the strength and courage we would need to survive
life's tragedies and life's unfairness.

In essence it is our connection to others that makes the random tragedies in life tolerable. Although the answer to why bad things happen is illusive [and a question that scholars will argue about for another thousand years] I am comforted by our resiliency as human beings to overcome the unimaginable. This resiliency is found inside of me, and is strengthened by my connection to others in my life. In the simplest terms, life is about the comfort that we give and receive. In essence this is the divine grace of God. It is our resiliency, the comfort of others, and the hope of a new day that will carry my heart through “the great sadness” when life does not make sense.

Terry’s Independence Day

The 4th of July means a great deal to our country and has been steeped in majesty ever since 1776. It marks the official day that the Declaration of Independence was signed. The day is the anniversary of our founding fathers taking control of their destiny. Signing that document was a courageous act. It was a death sentence to every man who signed. But each of them made that heroic choice. They made the choice to make their stand; a choice to make things better for themselves, and for those who would come after them. The day is so special that not only do Americans celebrate our country hood, but we commemorate some of our founders who mysteriously died on that day. John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Monroe all passed away on the 4th of July. So when Terry Hendrix chose to pass away on the 233rd anniversary of the signing of Declaration of Independence she was following in the footsteps of greatness; many of those who new Terry have deemed the 4th of July “Terry’s Independence Day.” Like our founding fathers, Terry was feisty and fiercely independent and went out of the world in the manor in which she lived—on her own terms. Terry will not live on in the history books like all these great men but she will live on in the hearts and minds of those who came to love her and will never forget her. She was courageous in the face of cancer.

However what made Terry so remarkable was not the cancer, it was something bigger. She inspired the very best in everyone she met and lived each day to the fullest. Terry loved life and had a way of forgiving others when they did not live up to her expectations. I remember one such occasion when I did not show up to pick strawberries with her and she took it all in stride saying it was not meant to be. Terry had a way of looking beyond a person’s shortcomings and seeing who really was inside. It is those eyes that I often looked to when she was deep in the recesses of cancer because no matter how overwhelming the cancer was, Terry’s spirit never had cancer. You could see her soul fire burning within her even at the bitterest of times. Interesting enough, Terry did not ask why bad things happened to her—she merely asked why not her. Although the cancer would take Terry’s life at the end, it would not take her happiness. In a courageous act of heroism Terry wrote in lipstick on her mirror that she was healthy. And indeed she was; because she never let the cancer in. Cancer never corroded the beautiful person that lived within her body. Now she claims that independence every day as she floats through time and space “on the wings of Angels.” As you can tell, Terry was very special. Although I only new Terry Hendrix for a little over a year, I fell in love with her as so many people did. You simply couldn’t help it. All of those who knew her will bitterly weep for the 42 year old wife and mother who left the world a little too soon, but we are all better off for knowing her even for a brief moment. In our sadness, let us never forget that the ones that we leave behind today will always be carried to greatness in our hearts as we continue upon life’s journey. In each act of kindness that we do the Terry’s of the world will be shining through their independence from the bad things that sometimes can weigh so heavily on our hearts.

The most precious 2 hours

I had meant to take James for the afternoon so that Terry and her family could have a break—that way she could deal with all the doctors’ appointments and other things she needed to attend to without a 6 year old in tow. The play date was scheduled for Tuesday. However, the phone rang at 7:40 AM. Terry decided to change plans. She insisted that Zefram come over to her house for the play date instead of me taking James off her hands for the afternoon. I was shocked but Terry reassured me that it would be perfect. There was no arguing with Terry. She had made up her mind. Terry insisted that I start writing on my blog again. She was adamant. “You need to write” she told me. “Besides, it is all set up. My niece is coming over to watch the kids. It will be perfect. Go home and write” she told me again. It was an order more then a suggestion, so what could I do.

My problem with writing was that I felt inadequate to put the words down. After all—I am no one special—I am just a regular person, I happen to have dyslexia, and my voice does not do justice to the grand overwhelming issues that take place in the world. Although I thought that this was a perfectly good reason not to write, Terry thought otherwise. Whatever writers block I was having (and no matter how sorry I was feeling for myself) I needed to get over it fast. Terry’s call was no doubt the Universes way of giving me a good solid kick in the right direction. Nevertheless, I was shocked by Terry’s insistence to write. I could not believe the gift I was being given. Terry is dying from cancer. I am supposed to be giving to her, not the other way around. But one of Terry’s many endearing qualities is thinking of others even in the face of her own adversity. She is always trying to do good things for others—even at the very end. So with a grateful heart, I obediently dropped Zefram off and came home to write, determined not to squander the 2 hours I had been given by a dying woman. They were the most precious 2 hours that I had ever been given. These 2 hours were more special then gold or diamonds because in reality time is the only true possession that we have as human beings and how we spend it is so very important. I was thankful for the 2 hours and was surprised at how much I had accomplished upon my return to Terry’s house.

When I told Terry how I had spent my 2 hours she simply smiled at me over her walker obviously very satisfied. She said I told you that you needed to write. She was so pleased. Terry said that she had woken up that morning and had such a strong feeling that this was something that I needed—she said that she was moved by the spirit and that she knew that she needed to give me this gift. I also realized (in that moment) that it made Terry feel powerful to be able to give something back to me or anyone. Terry could not control dying, or what was happening to her. But she could control how people remembered her. In a strange sort of way, I realized that I had indeed given Terry a gift too; the gift of dignity. I had been willing to RECIEVE her 2 hours and that was as important as anything I could have ever done for her. This made her happy. So the next time I have an arbitrary 2 hours in my life I will think of Terry and really contemplate how I use my time. Terry has taught me so many life lessons in the short time that I have known her. I am forever grateful.

Terry’s Tenderness

I have been guarded about writing about Terry Hendrix. Nevertheless, she has been playing an extremely pivotal role in my life for over a year. Terry is the mom of one of Zefram’s friends in his pre-school class. I met Terry due to her overwhelming kindness on a field trip. She was one of the parent chaperones that day, and put my mind at ease that Zefram would be fine. Several weeks later when I had forgotten about a Mother’s Day lunch-in, Terry stepped in to take Zefram under her wing. So it is no surprise that when I had invasive surgery for my Plantars Fasciitis that Terry was there to drive Zefram to and from school while I was on the mend.

From the moment that I met Terry, I wanted to get to know her better. Outwardly, she is just like any other Mom, doing all the Mom things with her son James. But she had a fire in her eyes and sweetness in her soul that is rarely seen so abundantly. All you have to do is to take a look at her relationship with her husband to know that she is a special person. My friendship with Terry had the humblest beginnings, starting over our children and related common interests. I never knew at the time that I was on the threshold of a life altering experience.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008 was a beautiful day. The sky was a brilliant crystal blue. That afternoon I hobbled down the steps to say good-bye to Terry after she dropped Zefram off after school. Little did I know that I was saying good-bye to the way that I saw the world. The pain killers made me a little loopy as I stood there suspended on crunches. Nevertheless, I will always remember seeing Terry on the porch that day. She looked so lovely and radiant. Terry was always smiling and I was affected deeply by her jubilation for life. She stood about 5’3 weighing a hundred and twenty pounds beaming from ear to ear. I asked her, “What is your secret to happiness?” She simply said that life was short. Terry was a cancer survivor and she was resolved to living life to the fullest in every moment. I was shocked that she had gone through so much but was even more stunned by how magnificent she was in that moment.

The next day, Terry’s husband gave me a call. There was an ominous sound in his voice. Terry had experienced a seizure overnight and was in the hospital. In true Terry fashion being worried about others more then herself, she had her husband call me right away so that I could make alternate plans for Zefram. Two weeks of testing determined that the cancer had returned with a vengeance. This time the cancer had found its way into her spine and her brain. She started a regimen of chemotherapy and steroids and slowly her world and body morphed. Within months she looked like a different person. One day she joked that she felt like the Buddha except less enlightened. She was now bald and had the voluptuous figure of a Raphael painting. But the cancer never touched her spirit. This is the miracle of it all. The fire in Terry’s hazel eyes burned more intently then ever, and still does.

There have been many ups and downs for Terry and her family. The Medical Community can no longer cleanse her body of cancer, but she is resolved to face each day on her own terms. I constantly marvel at her strength and am touched by her love. Terry is a true hero. She is a hero for getting out of bed in the morning to spend time with her four year old son. Other times she is a hero in the way she smiles or hugs someone. Every task that Terry does, regardless of how simple or immense makes her a hero, because she is making a conscious decision not to go quietly into that dark night.

Terry has every right to be angry. Angry at the world, at fate, at God; but more times then not she drinks every moment in like sunshine like she is storing it up for a rainy day. Most would consider her situation the rainy day yet she still looks to the future. I am not writing the story of Terry for you to feel sorry for her. She of all people would not want that. I write this story because Terry has found the secret to life and happiness despite her circumstances. Terry has shown me that it is our relationships with one another that make us strong and make every moment worth living. Slow up and love well and often would be her motto. As for me, I will always remember Terry’s great tenderness. To be with her is to share a moment with God. Sometimes that moment is shared in smiles, sometimes in tears but mostly it is shared in her zest for life. Warren Zevon, the musician who passed away from Mesothelioma famously said when asked about his diagnosis “…you’re supposed to enjoy every sandwich”. This pretty much sums up Terry. It’s the simple things in life that bring us joy and contentment, and that is her secret to happiness.