A soul exercised

I have created Google Earth markers for somewhere between 500 and 700 of the locations of photos on phoons.com (background). There are more than 4000 Phoons, so I have a loooong way to go.

Aha! It occurred to me that I have a file that contains the stories that accompany the photos. Those stories include the city information. What if I could bulk convert the city information into Google Earth markers? Sure, the markers would not be accurate; they'd just be central to each city; but at least I'd be creating markers in the general area and get closer to my goal far faster. And, so, I made a copy of the data file and began whittling it down to city details.

Fortunately, most of the city/story details in this file are in a very consistent form and I was able to bulk-convert most of the lines to city names in just a few minutes. The rest I'd have to read individually and hand-tweak to the form that I needed before I could convert the whole list to Google Earth markers.

I found I was typing "Portland, Oregon" a lot. I was encountering story after story written by my sister Jan. Her stories, written in a certain span of years, did not fit the pattern that cleaned up easily in the prior bulk conversion. And, so, now, here I was having to read story after story to trim down to city details. And I was being immersed in her journey with cancer: there were nurses and doctors who phooned at her request, fellow chemo patients who phooned (one lady boldly pulled her wig off to phoon with shiny scalp); family members phooned on an overpass between hospital buildings, Matt visited her in the hospital in the days before dating his future bride (Jan's daughter). Story after story. Wham, wham, wham. Jan, Jan, Jan.

There was extra intensity to this because of the month and because of this weekend. It's September. Jan died two years ago this month. And Dan, once her husband, is here this weekend, visiting Mom and me with his new wife Denise. What a wonderful gal; what a fortunate man. Dan reminded me that he and his son A.J. had visited us some time in the last two years. I remember that visit as well as I don't remember most of elementary school, likely fallout from grief. What I remember as his last trip was him and Jan working in Mom's garage to help sort things. On their trip home, Jan's body went goofy and the emergency room folks x-rayed to find a bunch of big brain tumors that had seemed to give her no trouble in her days here. (A few days later, Jan wrote about it in her typical light-hearted, God-trusting style.) What dear people Dan and Denise are. I cried with joy at their wedding, rejoicing in God's provision for each of them. I grieved then and grieved this week at not yet "having my own." I wouldn't be surprised that I will forever have unresolved loss around my sister's life, my sister's dying, and my sister's death. I'm so glad to have had this time with Dan and Denise. The scatteredness of this paragraph is fortunately not representative of how I have handled this weekend. It has been a delight to love when it's time to love. There has been a considerable weight, too, and I have found that I have needed more sleep.

And here's this Phoon story activity that flooded my thinking with Jan and her gifts in the middle of her cancer. Well, I got to the point where I wasn't up for continuing to swim in those thoughts any more at the moment. Blogging seemed like a good outlet in this moment. I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow.