a poem

I had breakfast with Beth (the author of this poem) almost a year ago. She gave me a book of poems and drawing that came out her processing through her father's death.


perhaps our tears change us - by Elizabeth High                               
I guess in my life...if I could have picked out my own life, you know...at the very beginning...I would have picked an entirely happy life...with good relationships.                                                                                                                                                            


where people always talked nice to each other,
and really listened, and were never
terribly annoyed
with anyone...
I also would have picked out
a life with no tears...
or sorrow,
hurt or
disappointment...
truthfully, I don't like any of those things...


not at all...
actually,
for sure
I don't like them...


anyway, I didn't have a say in picking out my life, and
it was very different from the paragraph I just wrote....


on many levels
I have known,
by experience...
real tears...
you know, the kind you cry when your whole body shakes
and all of the sudden you realize you can hear
your own voice out loud, and you remember
crying like that when you were a little kid...


that's what real tears are to me now,
as a 45 year old person...


I think somewhere along the way to adulthood
I thought I should cry adult tears...
when you cry quietly to yourself...
very politely...


actually...maybe no one ever really told
me that...perhaps...I just accidentally
picked it up....
certainly by mistake...I think...now


then it dawned on me the other day....
if I could cry my adult tears over....
I would hope now
I'd let them all...simply be...what they are...what they were


real...


and then I wondered
one
wonder 
more...


perhaps...our tears change us...


and for some reason that thought had never occurred to me...
its' been almost six years since I met my father and we became friends...three and a half years since his first battle with lung cancer, and three months since he started coughing blood and realized his lung cancer had returned...


over the last few years I've cried a thousand tears for many reasons...
and as I listen to my heart today...
that has been transformed over a six year period...
I can see that I'm not all the old-ish kind of girl I was...


perhaps, it's like this:


we all go about living regular life....
then one day crushing sorrow comes to us with a thousand tears....
and we're never really quite the same again...
our wounded heart leaves us forever altered and changed...perhaps now...


1. our arms are a little longer to reach out to others
2. our ears are a little more sensitive to hear the needs of another
3. our heart is a little deeper to love better those we care about...and
4. our hands work more willingly to make a difference in someone's life


perhaps our tears really do change us...
perhaps they change us on the inside...
you see...on the outside, after all my tears...I think I look the same.....just like a regular, everyday ordinary person...

but, if you had a special magnifying glass, to look way down deep inside of me...like this...you, perhaps would see that I'm different in an invisible-ish-kind-of-way...


that's the interesting thing, you know...
we can't tell from the outside how many tears
another person has cried...nor can they see that in us...and although we would never choose the tears...they came anyway


so...perhaps this page is about HOPE
hope that...on the other side of sorrow...down the road a ways...
when time has passed and we can look back over our lives...
we will be able to see that maybe...just maybe...our arms are a little bit longer, and our ears are more sensitive, and our heart is a little bit deeper, and our hands are a little more willing to help another...


or perhaps...it's as simple as realizing
we are
stronger
than we 
ever
could
have imagined...

earthquake in chiang rai.

I experienced my first earthquake last night here in Chiang Rai. I woke up to the house shaking and Rusty running into our bedroom telling me to come outside. Besides everyone being shook up, there was little damage. Two people died in Chiang Rai because a wall fell on them, but the main hit was said to be in Burma, about 60 miles from us. We are waiting to hear more about the damage done there. They are saying on the news that it was a 6.9, and in about 2 days we are supposed to have another bigger one.

Just wanted any concerned ones to know that we are all fine over here.

LOVE this.

Fears.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the fears in my life.

Fears of having another premature baby. Fears of having another child with health problems. The fear of losing a child again.

Fear of realizing that the future is not in my hands.

A little over a week ago Rusty's mother had a stroke, followed by seizures. The fear of losing her swept over each of us. The helplessness of not being in control of the outcome. We were reminded of how fragile life is. The realization that you may lose someone, allows you to start thinking of all that life would be missing with their absence. She continues to recover well, leaving us with much to be grateful for.

I vividly remember a moment walking through the halls at the hospital in South Bend, IN when things were continuing to go wrong with Olive...fluid was still leaking out of her suture wound after her second shunt surgery. I remember the deep fear that came over me when I realized that even in a country with a wonderful medical system that there is only so much that modern medicine can do. The realization setting in, that I could still lose her. And then my prayer that followed

"Jesus, I know I told you to care for her in the best way...whether that be with you in heaven, or leaving her in my care on earth. But I've changed my mind. Please don't take her from me. I'm far too attached. Please let me keep her."

I remember the fear in my heart as I lie in bed the night before she died. The low grade fever, the fussiness, and the suture wound that continued to leak. I went to pump my milk at 1 am that night and a nurse was rocking her. My heart sunk when I saw her...something just wasn't right, and I asked the nurse to contact the doctor.

I remember each minute that passed in the next day.
The fear that overtook me when it was clear she had an infection.
The first time the nurses had to resuscitate her when I went down for an MRI with my aunt Anne and Olive.

I remember the moment of accepting that Olive wasn't going to make it.
Letting go of the hope that she would get through this.
The endless tears.
The deep aching in my fully broken heart.
Weeping over her little body that eventually grew cold in my arms.

But even after Olive left me, and my worst fears became reality, I never once regretted being chosen to be her mother. We were made for each other, and the things she taught me have changed me in ways I probably haven't even fully figured out. I never regret falling in love with her.

And I suppose I won't ever regret falling in love with another child, even if I were to lose them.

That doesn't take away my fears, but it helps.

skills we have yet to master.

Here are some short clips of our Akha village friends showing off some skills that are much harder than they might look. We tried to master the leaf whistle, and making thread out of a ball of cotton, but repeatedly failed.

friends with skills. from Lynette Polinder on Vimeo.

Teaching English

Three days a week, I teach English to two of my friend's children. I LOVE these two little students who always keep me giggling. Here's a short little video of one of our classes.


Teaching English. from Lynette Polinder on Vimeo.

Tsunami hits Japan.

There are no words for this kind of devastation and loss. The death toll is estimated to FAR exceed 10,000. Thousands still missing as there loved ones wait to hear any word.

a dream.

I've had a few dreams over the last year where Olive was in them, but always on the other side of the room, and out of reach.

Last night I had my first dream where I was holding her close for the entire dream, nursing her, and carrying her around. In my dream she was healthy.

It was one of those mornings when I didn't want to wake up.

Just so thankful to feel her close again.

Even if it was just a dream. I'll take it.