Point Sur Lighthouse, a piece of the past still lighting the present.

My life is not the same anymore, now I have a child in high school—one that plays school sports throughout the entire school year. I find myself missing the carefree days when our children were younger, when holidays were really holidays and there were no sports practices or homework life had to be scheduled around. But, as someone once said, "There is a season for everything", and my son is enjoying the busy life of a teenager. By the time “Presidents Week” hit in February, I had had enough of sports and school, so I grabbed my family and stole away to nearby Point Sur Lighthouse for the day. This activity was leftover from our “Someday Summer List” (a list of a nearby place we have always wanted to visit, but had never taken the time).

There were a few reasons why we had never visited this lighthouse before. It is a bit of a drive for us, they do not take reservations (it is on a “first-come first-served basis), and during the winter months (November through March) they only have tours on Saturdays and Sundays at 10 AM, and on Wednesdays at 1 PM. It is also a bit of a hike to get to the lighthouse, you park your car at the bottom of the hill, and hike the 360 feet elevation gain to the top. Lastly, did I mention it is a three hour tour? Well, after all it takes to get there; it was nice to know we were given three hours of delightful-lighthouse-history for our time! All of these obstacles put aside, what a wonderful afternoon we spent exploring this beautiful beacon that calls Big Sur Coast its home.

Point Sur Lighthouse is on the rock at the very back right hand corner of the photo.

The lighthouse is located 19 miles South of Rio Road in Carmel, off of Highway One. It was built in that location to protect ships from the challenging navigational hazard Point Sur has presented throughout history.

Above and below: The lighthouse is majestically tucked into the north side of a large volcanic rock, where it has faithfully guarded the coastline since 1889.

Entrance to the Point Sur State Historic Park off of Highway One. (And yes, I wish this was my car in the photo, but it's not!)

To begin the tour, we met our tour guide at this gated entrance. There was a short drive across a portion of private property--to the base of the hill, where we parked are car and began a hike to the lighthouse.

Hiking up to the lighthouse. Yep, I was warmly dressed as "Nanook of the North"!

It was very cold and windy the day we went in February, so dressing in layers and wearing comfortable hiking shoes made the trek more enjoyable. A friend of mine that lives in Carmel said, "Light keepers had to tie down their chickens to prevent them from blowing away!" After visiting the blustery hill the lighthouse sits upon, I believed her tale!

It is a leisure hike, the guide stops about every fifteen feet to share history and information about the lighthouse and the surrounding area.

Some interesting facts I learned from this tour (I'm now quoting from the Point Sur State Historic Park pamphlet), “Each lighthouse, lightship, and lightbuoy has a different characteristic, or flash pattern. The difference may be in the length of the flash, the eclipse between flashes, or the color of the flash.” This is the way ships are able to determine their exact location. The pamphlet goes on to say, “Even today, there is no more reassuring sight to a ship returning from sea than the well-known characteristic of a familiar lighthouse.” The Point Sur Lighthouse flashes light out to the sea every six seconds. In comparison, the Point Pinos Lighthouse located just 27 miles to the north has a simple 3-second on/1-second off signature. Point Sur Lighthouse is on the National Register of Historic Places and is a California State Historic Landmark. It is also on the top ten list for haunted lighthouses in the United States. The station is the only remaining complete lightstation in California. I was impressed to see the lighthouse outer buildings are being beautifully restored to the way they appeared at the turn of the 20th century.

What a fun adventure for the whole family. We enjoyed the tales of our informative guide—from the building of the lighthouse, to past shipwrecks of the vicinity. So, if you are ever in the area, I highly recommend taking the time to see this landmark—one that seems to wink at anyone within sight.

Eastward view from the Head Keeper's Dwelling. How would you like to wake up to this view every morning?

The circular staircase inside the lighthouse.

Prisms in the floor of the lantern room allowed the base of the lantern room to be lit by the Fresnel lens (which was moved to the Allen Knight Maritime Museum of Monterey in 1978).

The emergency beacon in case the main lighthouse beacon fails. (It is surprisingly really small!)

The walk back down the stairs inside the lighthouse.

The first building on the left was the Assistant Keepers Dwelling, which originally housed three of the keepers and their families.

Inside the Carpenter/Blacksmith Shop.

The view to the south of the lighthouse.

The view to the north of the lighthouse.

Above and below: plants found on the grounds of the lighthouse.

The walk back down the hill to our car.

The end of a fun adventure and the drive back home along the Big Sur Coast.

For more information go to:

http://www.pointsur.org/

or

http://gocalifornia.about.com/cs/calighthouse/a/lh_ptsur.htm

Just a Few Things I Learned While Dealing With My Husband's Cancer

Note: Many people have been coming to my blog to find info about Lynn Kovach. This blog post is not about her, but is dedicated to her. Lynn's Obituatry:

http://southvalleyobits.com/classifieds/xcCPViewItem.asp?ID=332001
My heart and prayers go out to the Kovach family.

Today I wanted to write about either The Carmel/Monterey Concourse events last August (which was an amazing eclectic mix of amazing cars including priceless Ferraris and Lamborghinis). Or I wanted to write about or recent trip down to Cambria and San Simon, which included an evening tour of Christmas-trimmed Hearst Castle. But after the sudden loss of a friend yesterday to cancer, I feel an obligation to share some of my feelings about dealing with this horrible, horrible disease. So, if you want to bow out now, and catch me next time, I promise my next post will lighter and more entertaining. I am hoping that by sharing what helped me cope during the nine month battle we had with my husband's cancer, it might provide some comfort to others that are fighting this frightening disease.

Before I go any further, I want to say my husband is now in remission! He has to be screened every three months, since the type of cancer he had has a high rate of reoccurrence. His last screening right before Christmas was cancer free :-) Such a nice change from where we were a year and a half ago. Here is a bit about our journey--

On September 4th, 2009, I posted on my Facebook wall, “Feels like my whole world just turned upside down. Unfortunately, the letter "C" still looks like a "C" even upside down...” The words from the Urologist earlier that day, “Your husband has bladder cancer”, felt like someone had physically punched me in the stomach. It hurt to breathe—because breathing made me feel alive, and being alive made me have to deal with the cancer.

My sweet brother-in-law tried to cheer me up, by emailing, “For me, the letter C stands for cookies. And I have always liked cookies.” I appreciated his attempt at humor and diversion. I was scared the following weeks, months, and possibly years, the word that began with the letter “C” would be a dark unwelcomed guest in my household. I wanted to run away from all the pain cancer brought into our family. But through the darkness I had people reach out to me, and give me the comfort and strength I needed to keep going and make it through that hard time in my life. I feel an obligation to pass it forward, to share a bit of what I learned along my journey. And I want you to know for me, the letter “C” now stands for “CURE!”

To those of you who are facing this awful disease, or have a loved one that is, I want you to know my heart goes out to you for it is a difficult journey that lies ahead. I send you my strength, prayers, and positive energy. I hope something that I say here will help you. If it doesn’t seem to apply, or you have heard it before—just skim away! I’m sending this with the best of intentions in hopes of providing comfort and support.

When my hubby was first diagnosed with cancer, we didn’t know how serious it was, or what stage he had. My mind ran away with me and I dwelt in the land of “What Ifs”. What if it had spread to his kidneys? What if I had to support our family? What if he died? WHAT IF . . . ?!” I shared this with a good friend of mine one day, and she looked me right in the eyes and said, “What if NOTHING? What if all things you are worrying about never happen? Or, WHAT IF you use all of your energy on worrying today, instead of living today?” I knew she was right, it was better not to let today be stolen by worries. I learned to live in the moment. And, I am blessed to say, most of the things I had worried about never happened.

I found I felt the best when I surrounded myself with positive people. Fighting cancer seemed to take as much mental energy as it did physical energy. Positive and calm people gave me strength; negative people did just the opposite. It is almost a tangible feeling during such a time of chaos. It is okay to be selfish during this time!

Keep in mind cancer does not play fair. It doesn't go by any rules. Different people respond differently to the disease as well as the treatment. Learn to cherish every good nanosecond of life!

Here are a few quotes which were given to me, that gave me comfort and strength. I have a book I write all of my favorite quotes in, and I often would refer to these quotes when I felt myself getting discouraged (I won’t include scriptures, since I know many of you are probably more familiar with them than I!):

“Give thanks, have faith, keep going!”
–Pierce Brosnan (Don’t get stuck in the cancer—everyday keep doing and thinking about other things.)

“Hope is always an option, as well as a strategy!”
–by ME! (Sometimes you have to really work at having hope—but it is always an option. Even if it is just the hope of having a feeling of “peace”.)

“We get what we focus upon . . . Every thought is a prayer”

–Gill Edwards

“Sometimes God calms the storm, other times he lets the storm rage, and calms His Child.”

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”

“There are two big forces at work, external and internal. We have very little control over external forces such as tornadoes, earthquakes, floods, disasters, illness and pain. What really matters is the internal force. How do I respond to those disasters? Over that I have complete control.”

–Leo Buscaglia

“God usually answers our prayers--not by lifting the burdens and tribulations--but rather by bolstering our capacity to endure them.”

–Brent L. Top

And lastly, take this one with a grain of salt and a sense of humor:
“When you are going through Hell . . . don’t stop!”

Cancer is a rollercoaster ride. It is unpredictable. At one time my husband's cancer was going in a very negative direction, he was not responding to treatment and the doctor scheduled surgery to remove his bladder (last July.) A few weeks before surgery, he had a minor surgery to take more biopsies. The doctor said the lining of the bladder looked raw and red, like it was still infected with cancer. Miraculously, the biopsies came back cancer free. The redness had been a leftover symptom from the BCG treatments. He has had two more cancer screenings since then, and they have both come back negative. We feel like it was a miracle. If you have cancer, or have a loved one battling cancer, I wish a miracle for you too! I will never stop hoping and praying for a cure.

(This post is dedicated to my friend Lynn Kovach who lost her battle with cancer just yesterday.)

The following photos were taken during my husband's cancer treatments at Stanford Cancer Center. The crazy thing, he looked so well, but was so very sick--

Stanford University Medical Center in Palo Alto, California.

Only a few doors down was the clinic where Patrick Swayze had been receiving treatments a few months earlier.

Hubby checking in for one of the fourteen weekly BCG treatments he had to fight bladder cancer.

Me, the designated driver, waiting while my husband had treatment. No photos of him after treatment, he looked too sick. But, it was all necessary and worth it.

The musicians I saw every time we went to the cancer center. They were located right by the clinics where all of the cancer patience’s received their treatments. Their music made you feel like you were in a calm, safe place. Stanford Cancer Center was a wonderful place for my husband to be treated. We had a very positive experience and wonderful doctor!

The Amaryllis

It is white this year. This is the first time it has ever been white. In the past they have always been red. They come faithfully every holiday season, the mailman delivers them in the same shaped box every year, with the return address of Hurricane, Utah. The content is comfortingly always the same, a kit to grow a beautiful flowering Amaryllis from my oldest brother Wayne. It was his late wife Phyllis's favorite flower. He now sends them every year for Christmas in her memory. It is not a sad reminder—instead it is a reminder of hope, and here is a story to explain why. It comes from an experience that happened five years ago . . .

The end of November, 2005, I received a brown box with the words “Jackson & Perkins” printed in on the outside. I opened the box with curiosity. Inside was a shiny red ceramic pot filled with 3 gigantic bulbs nestled in peat moss. Someone had sent us Amaryllis bulbs for the holidays. A note inside read, “And enjoy your living gift with the warm wishes of the thoughtful person whose name appears on the outer address label.” Upon further inspection I realized that my brother Wayne and his wife Phyllis had sent us this gift. Every year my family rotates names for Christmas, and that year my oldest brother Wayne and his wife Phyllis had my name. I was moved that they had found the time to send this plant, for Phyllis had just finished her last round of chemotherapy, and the treatments had been very difficult on her. (Back in June, 2005, she had also gone through a successful double mastectomy for breast cancer.)

This gift was also appreciated since I had purchased several Amaryllis bulbs as gifts for my friends. I planted them and gave them away just in time for them to bloom during the holidays. My two young children were upset that I had given the plants away before we were able to enjoy any of the flowers. I felt bad that I had not bought an Amaryllis for our family to keep.

So, here I was relishing taking the packing off the bulbs in the festive red pot. I placed the new gift in the bay window in our kitchen. Our family anxiously awaited the glorious blooms.

The plant did not disappoint us, and the oversized bulbs sprouted long green stalks which exploded into crimson trumpet-shaped flowers. Every time I looked at the plant it made me happy.

I took the above photo on December 30th, 2005 to e-mail to Wayne and Phyllis, along with a short note telling them how much we were enjoying their present.

I didn’t receive a response to this e-mail. I was puzzled, since Phyllis had always been so good at corresponding. I soon found out the reason, Phyllis had not been feeling well since her chemotherapy ended in November, and health problems were beginning to emerge for which the doctors didn’t seem to have answers.

The beautiful blooms began to fade on the Amaryllis weeks after the Christmas decorations had been put away. I pulled out the directions that had come with the bulbs:

After-Bloom Care
After the Blooms have faded, cut the stalk off 1”- 2” above the bulb, being careful not to disturb the foliage. Continue watering and apply fertilizer occasionally, as you would for any potted plant. In the fall, discontinue watering and store the plant in a cool place (45 – 50 degree F). Approximately six weeks before blooms are desired, return your Amaryllis to room temperature and begin watering – lightly at first until growth is observed, then normally, to keep soil moist.

All of that seemed pretty complicated and life was busy with kids, their school, and numerous activities. So the once magnificent plant got stuck out on our back patio, neglected and un-watered. I had fleeting thoughts of planting the bulbs in the garden if I ever found the time.

Time passed by quickly at our house as the children’s school year drew to an end. During the past few months news of Phyllis’ health was like a rollercoaster ride. She is doing better. Now she is doing worse. Without reason, her health was declining. Details became painful to hear, as when Phyllis e-mailed us the following on March 9th, “They drained the right lung (her's) on Wednesday (2 liters fluid.)”

Intricate tests were run to find out why she wasn’t thriving. News of the test results came as fingernails scrapping a chalkboard—apparently the chemotherapy had done irreparable damage to her heart. Sadness crept in, as hope started slipping away. My brother Wayne e-mailed the following on June 9th:

“Phyllis is really tired of the pain, her inability to do anything, and the quality of life she has experienced this past year. She almost welcomed the thought that perhaps the pain and frustration may soon be over. Her spirits are high, and right now her major motivation is to get somewhere where bells and alarms do not ring, no one takes your blood sugar and blood pressure every hour, and you eat what you damn well want!”

Early Sunday morning, June 18th the painful rollercoaster ride came to an end. We received news that Phyllis had passed away peacefully the night before, surrounded by her husband and two of her daughters.

With a heavy heart we made the trip—flying from San Jose to Las Vegas, and then driving on to Hurricane, Utah for the funeral services. Traveling the long distance in the sweltering summer heat was hard for me, for I was dealing with pain from a recent ankle surgery and navigating around on crutches. But, this was a trip that I needed to make.

Saying goodbye to a loved one is hard. Phyllis’s service was a solemnly sad, yet wonderfully eloquent farewell. Memories of a “Getting to know you form” she had filled out and e-mailed me (on September 19, 2005) came to mind. When answering the form’s question, “If you could have any job what would it be?” Phyllis had written, “The Grandmother that I am.” Her funeral services given by her family proved she had successfully done the job she had set out to do in this life, and she had done it well!

Life marched on at a brisk pace for me–kids to take care of, appointments to keep, responsibilities to meet. Time can be cruel; it doesn’t slow down or pause when our bodies and minds ache for reprieve.

Just shortly after returning home I was sitting in the kitchen still trying to recover from the tole our trip had taken—feeling sorry for myself that my foot was still swollen, sore, and impossible to walk on —something caught my eye outside on our back patio. I rushed out to see . . . it was a new blossom beginning to emerge from the overgrown leaves of the abandoned Amaryllis. In disbelief I stared at the plant in the dusty red pot. My mind raced as I went back into the house to look up the instructions that had come with the bulbs. I pulled them out of my file and slowly read: “The Amaryllis is for indoor blooms on a yearly cycle. With proper care, the bulb will flower again each year.” This plant had bloomed just six months ago! How could it be blooming again, so soon—without any care?

Maybe this was just a coincidence, but I would like to think differently. I don’t know many people in my day-to-day life who would understand the significance of this bloom, but I do know someone in heaven that would. A small miracle seemed to have happened—one to brighten my day, remind me of a loved one, and tell me that my journey to Hurricane had not gone unnoticed. My thoughts drifted back to the short message that had come in the box with the Amaryllis, “And enjoy your living gift with the warm wishes of the thoughtful person whose name appears on the outer address label.”

Photo taken July 14, 2006

I feel part of the meaning of Christmas, and celebrating the birth of Christ, is to have hope. Hope that there is more to life than our crazy everyday existence, and hope that relationships and love reach past the bounds of this life. May you keep your loved ones close and enjoy each moment. Merry Christmas!

Don't Forget to Enjoy the Sunsets!

On Thanksgiving Day I captured this photo of the sun gloriously tucking itself into the ink-blue ocean for the night. As I stood on the rocky beach enjoying the scene, I noticed I was surrounded by other people who were doing the same. Everyone stood in silence, a sacred ritual of sorts; the flaming sun demanding attention as it made its final exit for the day.

This experience reminded me of a fond memory from a few summers past. We had just spent a fabulous day at the beach at Point Lobos with my brother-in-law, his wife, and five children. We were walking back from the beach to our car in the parking lot when we noticed three white haired elderly people getting out of an old model Jaguar. Their lively chatter and laughter portrayed that of younger years. Our attention was further drawn to them as we noticed the two gentlemen and one woman take out an elegant white table cloth, a chilled bottle of wine, and three Champaign glasses which they set up at a nearby picnic table overlooking the ocean. Seeing their joy and excitement, our curiosity got the best of us, and we asked, “Are you celebrating something special?” Their time-softened faces, filled with smiles, turned our direction. One of the men proudly said, "Yes, we ordered a beautiful sunset!"

The reply made us all smile. We couldn’t help but catch their contagious mood for the upcoming sunset. How poignant it was to see these young-hearted-golden-yeared individuals celebrating THIS sunset as if it were their first. We all watched as the sun bowed low, issuing in a blazing sky that brought the day to a close.

What a sweet memory this experience is to me, a reminder to enjoy the simple things in life and to surround yourself with those that do the same. It made me believe if you were to do these two things--growing old would seem irrelevant. Love for life and people are timeless.

Wishing you many beautiful sunsets!

Playing Hooky

Recently I was driving on the freeway, after doing something I had to do, and on my way to do something I needed to do. Blah, blah, blah. My life seemed so monotone and filled with have-to-dos. Driving south on the 101, I noticed a sign above the freeway that said "Los Angeles" (which is 6 ½ hours south of where we live). I knew Disneyland and carefree times were down that road. It took all my mental energy to make my responsible self take the next exit off the freeway—to my home—where my “Have-To-Do” list would continue. Even after taking the exit, I longed for that imaginary day at Disneyland—away from cares, worries, and responsibilities.

Spent. Yes spent is how I felt. That is when life becomes all have-to-dos with no want-to-dos. A shiver of panic rattled me, a panic that my days may begin to blur into “sameness” and the sameness may melt into years. Dramatic, I know, but spent days have a tendency to be that way. I think it was just my heart saying, “Wake up and don’t let life pass you by!”

The cure? I decided to play hooky (Merriam-Webster’s definition: one who shirks duty :-D). No, I didn’t get back on the freeway and head to Disneyland, but a couple of days later I took the day off to go to the Monterey Peninsula. You may have found a theme to my blog posts; I often go to the coast when I feel emotionally bankrupt. Something about the ocean air and the beauty of the sea is medicine to my soul. It reminds me there is more--wonderful and inspiring more--just outside my routine-driven life.

So, the following Monday, after dropping the kids off at school, my hubby and I headed to Monterey. This is a place where famous people like John Steinbeck and Robert Louis Stevenson lived, and probably played a bit of hooky themselves. The beautiful Monterey Peninsula. It was easy to imagine Steinbeck’s words echoing from the past as we drove down Cannery Row, “Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, . . . a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream." (John Steinbeck, opening sentence, Cannery Row. 1945). Come along with me, as I share some of the sights we saw that day.

Monterey has enchanting trees. The one above is by Dennis the Menace Park. The exotic Monterey Cypress trees below are at Lover's Point.

To put the size of the trees in perspective, my hubby is almost 6' 6" tall. The above 3 photos were taken at Lover's Point where we parked our car, then walked west along the coastal trail.

Memorial benches are scattered along the path, allowing one to rest as well as to sit and drink in the view of the ocean. A bench that we passed on our walk (below) had an engraved saying that perfectly fit our day of escape. It read, "May the beauty of the sea give peace". Yes, thank you, it has!

Above and below: Large bushes of aloe vera plants garnished the trail.

Above: Remember those large Monterey Cypress tress my husband was standing by earlier? Those trees are now the small trees you see in the distance, in the center of the photo.

There is so much to do and see on the peninsula! Our time was limited to just a few hours while the kids were in school. So we jumped in the car and headed over to Pacific Grove's Butterfly Trees, only a few blocks away. The weather was in the low 70s, so we knew it would be a great day for viewing the migrating butterflies. I know I just made a blog post about the Natural Bridges State Beach monarchs, but there are actually three main areas to view the migrating monarchs in California, the two places I have mentioned here, as well as an area farther south in Pismo Beach. After being so amazed by the butterflies in Natural Bridges, we couldn't pass up checking out this monarch refuge, located by the Butterfly Inn on Ridge Road in Pacific Grove.

How incredible it was to be able to view the migrating monarch butterflies in two different locations, both on days they were active and flying around. How blessed we are to live so close to such amazing places!

The few hours we had passed by too quickly. We brought our trip to a close by eating lunch at a quaint outdoor restaurant on Lighthouse Avenue before heading back home.

Ahhh, how nice—to play hooky for the day—to re-group, to re-fill, to re-generate . . . to re-fall–in-love with life!