The day after returning from Glencoe, Saturday, was a full one.  Ian and Rose had spent the night with us in our flat at The Knight Residence.  We certainly enjoyed having a larger flat this time with a second bedroom which served nicely for overnight guests.  It was good to have extended time with family. 

Dave was up first, departing early for Dunfermline and a ride with his former cycling club.  Cheers to Ian Condie for arranging a bike and all else for Dave!  Quite the gentleman, Ian.  So thanks!  I was up shortly after Dave left, with Ian and Rose following soon after.  After a simple breakfast in the flat, Ian headed back home to Dunfermline and Rose and I embarked on our “girlie day.”  Our first stop was the hair salon, where I had my hair braided and Rose had her lovely Irish curls straightened for our evening at the Pitbauchlie House Hotel Pub.  We prowled some shops as girls do together and headed to Shakespeare’s for lunch.  Whoa!  It was a futbol weekend (um…seems like every weekend in Scotland is a futbol (think soccer in America) weekend…), so the place was teeming…mostly with guys.  We found a cozy table for two tucked away by a corner and had a nice, if not boisterous, lunch.  The afternoon saw us headed to a spa for massages and manicures.  Of course, it was raining (I hear it can be very nice in Scotland in May), so we opted for a taxi from TKR to the train station.  The ride from Edinburgh to Dunfermline was my one train trip this time…I do so love riding the trains in Scotland.  So relaxing…such a nice way to see the countryside…and I love the female voice on the train speakers…”This train is for Rosyth.”  “Mind the gap.”  Next time I am going to get a t-shirt emblazoned with “Mind the gap.”  Gotta love it!

I digress.  Once in Dunfermline, we took a taxi to the Pitbauchlie House Hotel, where friends of Dave’s were meeting us later in the pub and where Dave and I were spending the night.  While Rose and I were out “getting gorgeous” for the evening, Dave had done his ride with the DCC, checked into the Pitbauchlie for a shower and change of clothes, and then was off with Ian to a futbol match.  There’s futbol again…go figure.  Shortly after Rose and I arrived at the “Pit,” Dave returned, Ian showed up, and the evening was kicked off.  Paul had a previous engagement, so he was not there with us, but I so enjoyed Ian and Rose’s company and watching Dave have such a good time with his mates.  Whew!  What a night!  As we have done in the past, we closed down the pub.

After breakfast the next morning, Dave and I checked out of the Pitbauchlie and drove to Aberdour and the cemetery there were our wee dear Chloe Rose rests.  We took flowers to her gravesite and spent a while there with her.  It was an emotional time…so bittersweet, saying hello and good-bye in one visit to the wee baby girl we will never meet in this life.  Aberdour Cemetery is so very tranquil and beautiful.  Chloe rests on a hillside and I cannot think of a more peaceful and lovely place for her.  Well done, Rose and Ian, for selecting this spot. 

Saying farewell, Dave and I ventured into the village of Aberdour to spend some time before meeting up with the rest of the family later in the day.  We walked the grounds of Aberdour Castle and the streets of the village, stopping at one point to watch lawn bowling. 

Back to Dunfermline and Ian and Rose’s new home, we met our wee grandson Fionn in person for the first time!  I know I am probably prejudiced, but he sure is a cutie!  He was a bit shy with Dave aka “Grandpa” at first, but soon they were playing together and getting to know one another upstairs in Fionn’s room.  Back downstairs, Ian put on some music in hopes Fionn would “dance” for us.  I was honored with my “first dance” with the little lad, his small hands holding tight to mine.  He slowed down and became almost transfixed, much to the amusement of everyone.  Hmmmm...could he feel the Reiki I was sending?  One likes to think so.  At any rate, it was fun bonding a bit with this newest member of the Barnes clan.  I tell ya what, looking at the photos of myself with him, I ask, “Wow, who’s that old lady?”  HA!

With the rain teeming down, we headed to Anstruther on this Sunday for some fish and chips.  Yum!  Paul rode with us in our rental, following the young Barnes family ahead of us in Dave’s old car.  He had left the Citroen there for the lads when he came across to the States, and it has come in handy for this growing family of Ian, Rose and Fionn.

By the time we reached the harbor of Anstruther, the rain had disappeared and it was becoming a rather nice afternoon/evening.  Dave and Paul ducked into the chip shop to procure meals for us all.  The queue into the shop was not too bad when they entered; however, as time passed, the line of people continued to grow and grow…Ian, Rose and I pondered what had happened to them!  You saw folks going into the shop but never could really see anyone coming out.  We saw other folks strolling by with food but never actually saw anyone coming out of the shop with food….hmmmm…We joked that perhaps they were exiting the shop a mile up the road….no, wait!  There they are!  Finally!  Yum, fish and chips Scotland-style, eating right out of the paper bag sitting on the benches at the harbor in Anstruther. 

After all had eaten, we sat for a while watching Fionn and watching people, and watching Fionn take in the sights and sounds.  Paul and Ian strolled off, seemingly on a mission of some sort.  Soon it was revealed that they had gone for ice cream!  Dave and I ducked into the ice cream shop and got dishes and cones for ourselves, Rose and Fionn.  That led to more amusement…watching Fionn consume his dish of ice cream.

Truly a pleasant afternoon spent with family.  My family.  These days are odd…my family in the States seems to be dwindling, while my family in Scotland continues to grow.  Recently I sometimes feel as if I am “freefalling” without the close relatives I once had…but then I look at the photos taken during this trip and see that I do have family.  There is geographic distance between us, but there is no distance to the affection I have for them all and for that which I feel from them.  I am so very blessed.

The afternoon was fading, so we bade farewell to the “young folks” and headed back to Edinburgh in our wee rental, just Dave and I, just “the old folks.”  Once back in our cozy flat, we spent a relaxing evening enjoying our surroundings, enjoying being in Edinburgh, and enjoying each other.

Today we were headed into Austin on a mission.  Our first stop was to drop Dave’s Trek off at Bicycle Sport Shop for its first tune-up.  After some browsing there, we drove the short distance over to Mellow Johnny’s, Lance’s shop. 

This is a cool place.  Okay, guys, you said I could take photos, so boy did I!  A nice selection of LiveSTRONG items…go figure!  I did get a pair of LiveSTRONG bib shorts, a Mellow Johnny's t-shirt and some gel (thanks, Dave).  I have a few pairs of bibs which are probably about 10 years old and a pair of black ones a little more recent than that, but they all have the old-style pad in them.  This is my first pair with the new type of pad, so I’m hopeful this will be an improvement on comfort and keeping happy during the summer months.  Been kinda wanting a pair of the LiveSTRONG bibs for a while and hey, the price was pretty darn good.

Yes, lots of bikes, clothes, shoes, and so forth upstairs in the shop.  There is also the Juan Pelota Cafe, where Dave got a coffee and me a smoothie.  We sat outside on the porch with these. 

The highlight of Mellow Johnny’s for me personally?  Downstairs.  Three of Lance’s bikes from recent times on display.  Walking up to them.  Touching them.  Powerful moment for me as a cyclist, yes, but as a survivor…as a survivor having just lost my precious cousin Karen to cancer….as a survivor having lost other family and friends over the years to cancer.  Standing there with these bikes…I felt the old passion, the strength, the determination, the joy I have felt for cycling….which I have not felt in some time.  I’m gettin’ there. 

I’ve never met Lance and chances are I never will.  I know nothing of the man personally.  He may be the biggest pussycat in the world or the biggest jerk.  But I tell you what, folks.  What his cycling and his story have done for me not only during my cancer experience but in cycling and in life, well, I am forever grateful.  I know it’s that way for many others out there, but I still have this dream of one day getting five seconds with him to shake his hand, look him in the eyes and say, “Thank you.”

The times during treatment mowing the yard or on the bike trainer, feeling absolutely like hell but thinking “If Lance did what he did, I can do this.  This is nothing compared to that.”  Those darkest of the dark days in the months following treatment when my marriage was dissolving and my heart was breaking, somehow calling on that inner strength I had found in cycling to get me through the storms of those days.  When I was able to finally face getting back on the bike, making cycling my own again…riding alone around Brenham or with pals…making it my own again.

LivingStrong…rebuilding my life after cancer “going solo” for a while…venturing out on my own to participate in LAF activities…finding joy the everyday activities of life…shelving my timid self and getting on that plane for Washington DC in June 2005 to attend LiveSTRONG Day on Capitol Hill and meet my beloved Scotsman for the first time.  Finding “the” wedding dress at a vintage store in Scotland…the store is called “Armstrong’s.” 

Out on the bike, being one with the bike, slipping into a different cadence…a bit faster one…getting stronger on the bike, getting faster on the bike, focused on the bike…having male cycling pals comment things had changed.  Hangin’ with the guys got a whole lot easier.

So many other moments….so many ways cycling and Lance’s inspiration have been, and continue to be, part of my life on the road and off the road.

Tears of sorrow for recent and past losses, tears of joy, tears of strength…were in my eyes as I stood there with Lance’s bikes this morning…and touched a handlebar….”Thanks, Lance, man, for everything.”  Tailwinds to you always.

Dave and I had lunch at Romeo’s on Barton Springs, sitting outdoors on the patio.  Afterwards it was back to Bicycle Sport Shop to pick up his bike and then head north back home to Cedar Park.

It’s been a good day.

Today was a better day than yesterday.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better than today.  Although I have thought about making this entry, tonight is the first time I have been able to sit and perhaps let it come.

Karen was my cousin by blood; we were sisters by heart.  Indeed, she often referred to me as her “baby sister.”   She was so full of life, always managing to stay upbeat during difficult times.  She always had a hug for folks.  Dave remembers the first time he met her; the first thing she said to him was “Sorry, I have a broken hugger.”  She had injured herself and could not give a good hug. 

What can I tell you about Karen and I?  Although seven years older than me, she always had time for me when we were kids.  She put me on a see-saw for the first time.  I got to go barefoot for the first time because she was.   We had a connection…inexplicable, deep, straight, true and everlasting.  We shared a love of animals.  We shared music competition during school years – she in choir, me in orchestra.  We shared a silly sense of humor.  We shared love. We had such escapades as kids which carried over into adulthood.  We were both kids at heart…kids who knew what hard blows life can deal one and what joys were to be found in simple things.

During more recent years, starting when we were both single about seven years ago, we would say that when we would get together we were just going to "be."  Our lives were hectic enough, so we were just going to enjoy "be-ing" together, enjoying the moment, chilling out, enjoying each other.

Karen was diagnosed with Stage IV stomach cancer in December 2008.  She underwent three chemo sessions and then testing to see if the chemo had any effect on the tumor.  On the 8th anniversary of my surgery for breast cancer, she called me to tell me the results.  The chemo was not working.  The tumor was growing.  Her oncologist recommended hospice.

She went camping that weekend, determined to LiveStrong her remaining days.

Karen left this Earth on May 26, 2009, six months from diagnosis to passing.  She was 57 years old.

With the start of her chemo treatment, I began calling her every day with the exception of one day.  That particular day I thought, “Well, perhaps she’s getting tired of me calling her every single day.  I’ll give her a break today.”  You know what?  I felt out of sorts with the Universe that entire day…just not right.  When I called her the next day, the first thing she said was, “You didn’t call me yesterday!  Are you okay?  Are you mad at me?”  I phoned her every single day after that, even from Scotland when Dave and I were there for two weeks in May.  Towards the end, the calls were brief…just a minute or two…just “I love you” exchanged.  Some days that last week she did not feel like talking to anyone.  My love was relayed to her by dear Janna, in whose care Karen was at Janna and Terry’s home in East Texas.

God bless Janna and Terry for their selflessness and tender care of my cousin, my sister. 

I miss calling Karen or her calling me and hearing her say, “Whatcha into cuz?” 

Yesterday afternoon I glanced at my watch, seeing that it was 4:29.  “Gosh,” I thought, “I’d better call Karen before it gets too late!”  A split second later, I realized there was no phone call to make. 

Today was a better day than yesterday.

A part of me is missing.  This is more wrenching than when my mother passed.  Mom was in her 80s.  She had a long life and chose to enter hospice care.  One expects to lose one’s parents…mine are now both gone.   One, no matter how prepared one is, does not expect to lose a sister…a soulmate…a playmate…the one person to whom I could talk to about anything and who would not judge or be opinionated, as she could with me with the same acceptance.

Over the years and even towards the end, we laughed together until we cried and cried together until there was nothing left to do but laugh.

I am so very grateful that she was able to be honest with me about her feelings and physical status during her departing.  As always, we were very straight up with one another.  When she did not feel she could talk to anyone else about things….she would talk to me.  Some things were difficult to hear, but I was grateful she chose my shoulder.

I miss her voice, although I can hear it distinctly still.  I hope that does not fade. 

My tears are not so much tears of sorrow but tears that come with feeling love and gratitude to and from someone.  

People often want “things” of someone who has passed.  She wanted me to have one thing and I will accept that.  I have the chemo cap I sent to her when she started treatment.  She wore it all the time and, even when not wearing it, she told me it was right beside her….her security blanket.   I have asked for a special jacket she loved and wore.  I will love and wear it...I remember when she had it embroided with a tree frog..."Tree Frog" was her biker name.  She loved her motorcycles and her biker friends, and got such pleasure from riding and her involvement in the Christian Motorcycle Association and East Texas Motorcycle Enthusiasts.

I was blessed by her love and her presence in my life.  Much of who I am is because of Karen’s presence and love.  She surely helped shape me into the woman I am today.

She told me I should get used to the idea of her not being here, as she was going to die soon.  I am trying, Cuz, but it is so very difficult.

Today was a better day than yesterday.

I told her I would still talk to her even when she had departed this Earth.  I do, and I know she’s listening.  I know she would not want me to be sad and, truly, I am grateful she did not linger and suffer any longer.  I’m really okay with it all, my spirituality being strong.

Karen literally died with a smile on her face.  I find that comforting….knowing that she was peaceful as she left.  It’s also comforting to know that one really can leave with peace and joy…it really does happen. 

Like she did so often in our lives, Karen is now blazing the path for me yet once again.  I am comforted to know she will be waiting for me when my time comes and I look forward to seeing her again in a brighter place.

I miss her beyond description.  A piece of me is gone, yet still here, for I carry her love with me and feel her presence often.

Today was a better day than yesterday.