Amazing Grace, indeed

This was a little piece of Heaven I experienced on a Saturday in June. It was the second time we visited these friends' house. The first time was a year ago and we had never met in person... only online! We felt such hospitality and warmth that we felt we were family. Last year, I realized this family does what I've been wanting to do in theory/dreams and have never successfully/naturally/organically implemented at our house. They are also a bilingual family (father is Irish), the mom also writes (but actually BOOKS... something, again, I only think of doing in theory), they also don't use electronics individually, at least not while we were there and each child plays an instrument. Every night, after dinner, they sing songs together in the living room, read the day's mass readings, reflect together on them and finish with the rosary. This is so simple to them and so COMPLEX to others like me (and you, I'm sure!) that they actually started a movement: https://www.familiasdecana.pt/

This upcoming weekend they are having a family camp, in tents. Let me know if you want more information!

Anyway, after lunch, they nonchalantly took out their instruments, shared some songs the oldest daughter had composed (I know... whaaaaat) and asked what we wanted to sing. They taught Adelaide (and me!) how to play along, harmonizing, when someone starts playing something. You either hear what key the song is in, or ask if your ears are like mine, and play notes from that scale. Especially the I, IV and V. Simple enough, right? 

Sometimes the sisters stay up late playing together, composing and improvising, on their porch with an amazing view. And, unlike the rude neighbors I have heard of here in Lisbon who ask people to STOP practicing music (yes, even if it's during the day), their neighbors say, play more! 

Beach bums

Life seems like it has been going rough for us, but we have these amazing moments in between that lift our spirits. Today at the end of the day we went to #praiadatorre and it was just FUN. We were all in playful moods and played with each other. There was a natural pool, formed in the sand, where the water was warm. We felt like we were in the Carribean or in Hawaii! Adelaide and Davy were the dolphins we were having a "swim with the dolphins" experience with. Davy dolphin was actually a crocodile!

Do you need nice experiences (trips, beach, etc) to be well or if you are well, you will enjoy experiences? What do you think? 

I definitely think the latter. You can be well in a prison cell (look up St Paul) or in a concentration camp (look up Saint Maximillian Kolbe). Two people can live the same experience in very different ways. 

So I guess the real question is: how do we get well? That's what we're doing here on this life journey! We are all in need of healing. All life long. Physical and spiritual and emotional and mental (mental healing=truth)!!! 

Christians have a different answer to this question than the worlds': prayer and sacraments. 

Life outside my home again

 

I've been really down these past three months. I was on crutches from April 4th-June 30th, did treatments for my wound (which is better, thanks!) and really wanted to keep my house organized and was frustranted with not being able to. I felt like I had nothing to look forward to in the future. 

Sunday we bought a basketball and played a little at cidade universitaria (video on IG) It was like the clouds parted. I was so happy to have fun with my kids. 

Daniel has some days off, so we're doing a "staycation". 

Sunday we went to the beach and I threw the ball back and forth with Tommy. It felt amazing. 

Thursday we played a tiny bit of tennis (above video) and they ate the icecream in the first pictures. My arms still remember how to play. My legs don't move as fast as I tell them to. It's a new game of stationary tennis. Dimas is riding his bike without training wheels in the last video (only on IG). I am proud to say I taught him, with the same method as Rosie and Tommy. 

Today we went to the beach and I got in the water and swam. (Davy challenged me to a swimming competition! 😂 obviously I lost) I can't remember the last time I got fully in the water. Probably ten years ago, before I had kids. 

I started thinking about it and other than religious retreats/congresses and hikes, my happiest memories are sporty. 

I am so lucky to be able to move in these ways again. I am so happy to be able to bond with my husband and kids in nature and sports. My injury and recent depression only made me value this more and be sure of what's important in life (hint: faith, love, freedom). 

Always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus

For God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of Christ. But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being given up to death for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.

2 Corinthians 4:6-11

A friend sent me a message saying she thought of me when she heard this second reading from mass today (here Corpus Christi was already celebrated Thursday, so it's not those readings). I couldn't believe it because it's one of favorite readings!

You haven't heard from me much since January because suddenly my wound on my heel got worse. It's almost better now and, long story short, I'm still on crutches and have been living like a hermit since April 4th because it's tiring to get around on crutches. Plus, I'm supposed to rest it. Magically, my ocassional pain that I had to take SOS/extra pain meds to manage disappeared. But last week I started ten days of hyperbaric treatment (two hours each), which is supposed to decrease my pain, but it actually increased it! I've been taking the extras almost every day. The doctors say it will most likely get worse before it gets better. This week I have five days straight of the treatment (in addition to getting my bandage remade at the hospital) and, to make matters worse, I have to get an ear exam done tomorrow because they hurt and are hard to "pop" when they turn on the pressure. And I'm also taking antihistamines to see if it gets better. 

So I feel afflicted, perplexed, persecuted amd struck down, but I know God is with me. How? Again, mostly through people. I had a uncontrollable crying atrack before showing up empty-handed and late (as usual now) to our godson's party on Thurs and they cheered me up, doted on me, hugged me, etc so much that I left with my heart full. When I got home, I sat paralyzed in front of my messy dinner table, feeling the despair come on again, when.... my friend from college rang the doorbell! A friend at the party had told her about me crying and she rushed over to my house. Let me tell you: I don't remember ever going to any friend's house just to comfort them, and I don't deserve such wonderful moments of grace given ny His instruments in my life. Of course, she listened to me, I shed some tears, she set the table, we rejoiced in her presence and had icecream for dessert. We rehearsed our recital songs for her and she sang a fado song for us. I tried to capture Lettie and Rosie's entranced looks as they listened to her sing in the following pic. 

The first pics are at Davy's rugby game on Sat. I only went because he reeeeeeally wanted me to go, but it was great. I took the picture holding Dimas in my lap because I love being able to slowly go back to the most important work ever (other than being a wife): taking care of my kids' needs. More important than meals, hygiene, schooling, etc, is physical touch. Watching them play, sitting in my lap, leaning on me, massage, hugs. I love how the follow me around and if I sit they plop into my lap. 

And of course today, we had the best recital ever with our lovely violin teacher. I said in a little soeech I made at the end: eight years ago I dreamed of having a family band and today was the first day it really happened. I played the piano and my oldest three played their violins. I will post photos and videos tomorrow! 

PS desculpa não escrever tbm em português, mas mal tenho tempo para uma língua (estou a esticar na hora que deveria de estar a dormir!)

Creativity is medicine

 

In the last picture: I have to take naps, but I always have little nap buddies which make it a lot more special!

Sorry, I think I complained too much in my last post and I got a lot of worried replies and offers for help. Thank you! I don't think my life is bad: I guess because I see so many people at the hospital a lot worse off and also because God has given me such adorable, smart, healthy kids. I feel like I have to get out of bed and put one foot in front of another because of them. 

Wednesday night I stayed up a little later because I wrote a poem. A poem! I haven't written poems since 7th grade. I wrote 2 or 3 in college, but I lost them. I have a book of LOTS of poems I wrote in 7th grade. My favorite poem was "Renascence" by Edna St Vincent Millay. I think I randomly found it while perusing the local library. This is why I want my kids to have access to a good library (they don't 😢): You can randomly find interesting things that your parents wouldn't think of buying for you. You can find your own interests. 

Anyway, I was walking past the security guard at the hospital, who I always say hello to, who is the friendliest person there (she's Brazilian, that helps) and I decided to tell her I had written a poem. I told her: "You know the artist Frida Kahlo? She had an bus accident, which left her paralyzed from the waist down like me. Then she recovered, but had pain and health complications her whole life. She lived to suffer and pain. Like her, I live now to suffer and write." Her eyes lit up and I barely finished the sentence when she said, "You know, I also have a chronic (serious, I forgot what it was) illness. The last time I had the symptoms, I was feeling down and thought, I'm going to get up and cook something. I like cooking." We both agreed that creativity is he best medicine. 

I also made a cake last week! After Dimas's red velvet birthday cake provided by his artistic godmother, I tried making it at home. It turned out good, but had a bitter aftertaste. That cake is in the first two pictures. This weekend I made it again, this time with beets instead of red food coloring (recipe from ButternutBakery). It was perfect. I also always halve the frosting, because I'm not huge fan. This cake is in the second two pics. There is nothing I like better than cooking, caring for and exploring the world with my husband and kids. I wrote about being a "poor wife who bakes" on my blog in 2015... ages ago! 

Yesterday I went to an appointment at plastic surgery at the hospital for my wound on my heel. It's not good yet, I have to keep the bandage on for another week. In a week, I'll do an MRI to make sure it has nothing to do with the bone. The doctor said it was a little better, that now he "couldn't feel the bone". Yikes! I didn't know he had felt the bone last time. Weird to thing something is touching my bone on the inside and I can't feel it. 

Let me know how your week is going and if you have any questions in the comments!

Na última foto: Tenho que fazer sestas, mas tenho sempre companheiros mini de sestas e isso torna tudo mais especial. 

Desculpa, acho que queixei-me muito no último post e recebi algumas respostas preocupadas e ofertas de ajuda. Obrigada! Não acho que a minha vida seja má: pois vejo muita gente pior no hospital e porque Deus me deu criançãs adoráveis, inteligentes e saudáveis. Sinto o dever de sair da cama de manhã e avançar um pé à frente do outro por causa deles. Na quarta deitei-me um pouco mais tarde porque... escrevi um poema! Não escrevo poemas desde o sétimo ano. Excepto dois ou três que escrevi na universidade, mas perdi-os. Tenho um caderno com MUITOS poemas que escrevi no 7º ano. O meu poema preferido era "Renascence" de Edna St Vincent Millay. Acho que o encontrei ao acaso na biblioteca local. É por isto que quero que os meus filhos tenham acesso a uma boa biblioteca (não têm 😢): podes encontrar coisas que te interessam e que os teus pais não se lembrariam talvez de te comprar. Podes explorar os teus interesses. 

Enfim, estava a passar a segurança no hospital, que cumprimento sempre e que é a pessoa mais simpática do local (é brasileira, isso ajuda! 😉) e contei-lhe que tinha escrito um poema. Disse: "Conheces a artista Frida Kahlo? Ela teve um acidente de autocarro, que lhe deixou paralisada da cintura para baixo, como eu. Ela recuperou, mas teve dor e complicações de saúde a sua vida inteira. Ela vivia para sofrer e pintar. Como ela, vivo para sofrer e escrever." Os olhos da segurança iluminaram-se e exclamou, "Como sabes, tenho uma doença crónica (e séria, mas esqueci-me do nome). A última vez que estava com sintomas, e a sentir-me em baixo, pensei: vou-me levantar e cozinhar. Gosto de cozinhar." Concordamos que a criatividade é o melhor remédio. 

Também fiz um bolo na semana passada! Depois do bolo red velvet de aniversário do Dimas, fornecido pela sua madrinha artista, tentei fazê-lo em casa. Ficou bom, mas tinha um sabor amargo que ficava na boca. Esse bolo estava nas primeiras duas fotografias. Este fds fiz-o de novo, mas com beterraba em vez de corante vermelho (receita de ButternutBakery). Ficou perfeito. Também faço sempre só metade da cobertura da receita, não gosto muito. Esse bolo está nas duas últimas fotos. Não há nada que gosto mais do que cozinhar, cuidar e passear com o meu marido e filhos. Escrevi sobre ser uma "pobre mulher que cozinha" no meu blog em 2015... há séculos atrás! 

Ontem fui a uma consulta na cirurgia plástica no HSM por causa da ferida no calcanhar. Não está ainda bom, tenho que manter o penso mais uma semana pelo menos. Numa semana, faço uma ressonância para excluir que seja algo no osso. O médico dise que estava um pouco melhor, pois "já não conseguia sentir o osso". Socorro! Não sabia que ele tinha sentido o osso da última vez. Que estranho pensar que algo está a tocar no meu osso por dentro e eu não sinto. 

Conta-me como vai a tua semana e se tens perguntas nos comentários!