Yes, I did indeed make it to Savannah.  Right now I have a cup of coffee at my right hand, and the shadows of leaves dance on me and on the floor as the morning sunlight streams through the windows.  Being back on the soil – in this case sandy soil – where my roots lie is a healing balm for me.  “Healing” and “balm” are especially significant to my last 24 hours or so.  Yesterday when I took the tape and gauze off after the aspiration, my skin came off with the tape.  Because of these raw places on my skin, I didn’t have my radiation treatment yesterday, and my drive down here was more painful than it would have been if the surgeon’s nurse (and surgeon himself) would have been more aware of the sensitivity of the skin of a radiation patient.   But the raw places are healing, and today the pain is much less than yesterday.  I finally found a good sleeping position last night (it involved many pillows and much propping) and slept well and late.  I’m taking a leisurely morning as I await John and Susan’s arrivals.

Yesterday was a crisp, clear day as I arrived here.  Even after the drive, I had enough energy to get out and walk a little.  I didn’t go far, but I didn’t need to.  There is so much beauty everywhere.  Having cancer has sharpened my vision, literally and figuratively.  I notice details more.  And I found myself looking up more yesterday.  Perhaps it was because the sky was so vividly blue or because the light was so perfect on the tops of the buildings or because I’m so grateful and gratitude just makes me look upward.  This is the Metts Mansion across from Forsyth Park.  I had never really looked at the details of this house before.  But I did yesterday.  Dr. Metts was the doctor of one of my uncles.  This uncle drove a long way to have this particular doctor care for him.  I didn’t understand then, but now I know what difference it makes to have a doctor with whom you can relate and feel confident.  Actually, that should be doctors.  Plural.  At least in my case now.

My first visit when I took my walk was to the Forsyth Park Fountain.  In the spring, the fountain is a wedding focus.  In about 15 minutes yesterday, I saw a wedding rehearsal, a wedding photography shoot, and a marriage proposal.  The park will host lots of weddings this weekend and will be full of families enjoying Easter and each other on Sunday.   The fountain has become a Savannah icon.  I don’t know that it was when I was a child when we came to Savannah to shop and to eat out.  But now if you visit Savannah, you have to see this fountain and take photos of you and your traveling companions.  Whenever I go to the fountain and see people taking photos, I offer to take one of the two of them or of the family or group.  Yesterday I did that for a young couple from Knoxville.  Everyone needs a photo at the fountain, and it should include whoever is on the Savannah trip.  Fountains draw us to them.  I think it’s the flowing, spraying water that speaks to us of baptism and the possibilities of being someone new – or being better satisfied with who we are at that moment.  For me, visiting the fountain was a kind of baptism and rebirth.  I have a past, but now is really all that matters, all I can be assured of.  And that is enough.  So I enjoy today, being in Savannah in bright sunshine, awaiting the arrival of friends, finishing my cup of coffee.  Content with what is.  Full of gratitude for spring and renewal and rebirth.  Yes and yes and more yes to what is.