Today is Thanksgiving, and as I look out my window, it’s nice to see fog. Fog signifies the return of rainy weather, and for that, I’m truly grateful!
Since this is a dual-month message, I took a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to share with all of you. I kept coming back to counting my blessings. When I last wrote in September/October, I was riding shotgun next to my hubby on our way to Wisconsin for his season-ending championship races. He was neck and neck with another “old” guy to become the SCCA Super Tour, Mazda SMX-5 class Master Champion. All he had to do was finish ahead of the other guy and place 15th or better in the race, and everyone knew he could get the job done. His bid ended on the last day of practice when he lost control and was involved in a major wreck that destroyed his car and one other. I was just around the corner from the accident and very grateful that I didn’t witness it. Watching camera footage from other cars was horrible enough!
This was the first time I have ever heard hubby say, “We’re done,” before he had a chance to get out and look the car over. Fortunately, he and the other driver walked away with only minor bruises. The other driver was able to race in a different class with his other car. A few people came by to offer leads on rental race cars so that hubby could qualify and race. He asked the team what our thoughts were on that. His driving coach and mechanic both said, “Let’s do it!” I answered last because my feelings were very complicated. This is where I have to choose between my fears and supporting what my husband chooses to do. Even though everyone could see my mix of emotions, I responded to the question with support for whatever my hubby decided to do.
He asked around and found a brand-new race car that the owner was willing to sell, not rent. Ultimately, the price tag was more than my husband was willing to spend, and we loaded the destroyed car and headed home. The next day, we learned that a couple of old-timers in the class that Ryan used to race were involved in a similar accident. Because the angles of impact were more head-on, both drivers sustained major injuries and are still in rehab facilities. This is when the reality of the risks came crashing down on me, and I could no longer hold my emotions back.
I cried tears of thankfulness that Ryan was driving us home; that I didn’t have to make calls to friends that could help me get our rig off the facility’s property and somewhere that it would be safe until I had a plan to get it home; I didn’t have to call my mother-in-law or our daughter to tell them something more horrifying happened than what I did when I called to tell them he was okay. I also acknowledged his mental anguish that he was responsible for this accident and the disappointment and anger he felt in himself. I sat with my fear of all the could-have-beens, what-ifs, and some guilt that I was extremely happy that he chose not to buy the other car and continue the race weekend. I’m grateful that I continue to have a great therapist in my back pocket and a support group of ladies that I meet with most Monday mornings that I could lean on for emotional support.
On the bright side of this ugly cloud, we were home in time to harvest our trees. We try to do everything for our trees that will help them yield a good crop. This year, the trees really hung onto the crop, and we ended up with about 1,200 pounds of payable pistachios per acre. In layman’s terms, it was a crappy year for us. Rather than stress the trees further by doing a second shake, we decided to let them rest.
We also chose to experiment a bit by “topping” the trees. Kyle with The Tree Barber (that’s the company name) came in and took about a foot off the top of most of the trees. Manuel with Pacific Orchard came in with his crew and did a heavy pruning of the long “whips” the trees have developed. We expect to lose some crop next year, but we’re also hoping the trees will fill in again and the branches will stiffen a bit more so that when we shake the next crop, it will come off instead of waving at us like the clusters are on a bar room bull and hanging on for the 8-second ride.
On our way home from Wisconsin, I got a couple of calls from Elaine’s Pet Resort regarding my old dog Smokey not doing so great. He had a hygroma (a fluid-filled callus) on his elbow that had ruptured just before we left. Dr. Franz at Madera Vet Center stitched him up, and it was healing nicely when we dropped him off. For whatever reason, the wound reopened right next to the nicely stitched area and was getting infected. Smokey was one sick doggy.
Over the last two months, we cared for him with doctors trying to keep the wound closed with different stitching techniques. Each time, the wound would heal and then break open again. In Smokey’s lifetime, he tore both main ligaments in his “knees,” and he and I rehabbed our knee surgeries together. He was always afraid of flashing lights and loud noises. He even started growling and barking at reflections. He was a friendly dog until you turned around or tried to get close to me or my daughter. Then he would bite with very little or no warning. Even my daughter’s friends that were around when he was a puppy would get bit if they moved too fast toward her. Eventually, it became obvious that Smokey wasn’t going to overcome this hurdle, and we said a gentle goodbye to him.
These events each had me reeling from the weight of it all. As I sat down to write this message, I thought about all of my life’s challenges over the last few months. Through everything, some things remain steadfast: my faith, my family, and my friends.
In a few hours, I will look around the Thanksgiving table at my mother-in-law’s house and see smiling faces and hear laughter. We’ll tell stories of our different adventures and commiserate with one another when it comes to the hard stuff. I’m grateful for the love that surrounds me and lifts me. I’m grateful that I’m able to surround others with love.
With Christmas fast approaching, I’ll leave you with my wishes. I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and that you are all surrounded by the people that matter most in your life, and you go through this season with peaceful hearts. If you find yourself with a contentment cup that is overflowing, find a way to pass it along to others that may be struggling. If you’re the one struggling, please don’t be afraid to reach out for someone’s hand.
Life is full of curveballs. Some we can catch and throw back. Some we can dodge. Others will knock us out. Be as gentle and patient with yourselves as you are with other people.
From my favorite Christmas poem by Clement Clarke Moore:
“He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’”
