Newcott Blog

My mom’s cancer is back.  She had her ovaries removed and went through a round of chemo that ended last December.  This year has been a relatively smooth time of follow-ups.  The warning flag is here cancer count which has skyrocketed over the last couple of months.  She called last night to say a first opinion only gives her 7 months to live.  The news is shocking and unbelievable.  My mind has been racing with thoughts of what will happen.  There is apparently no successful treatment for her rare form of clear cell cancer.  All studies point to life expectancy of 7-15 months.  At some point, she says, she will need to make the decision of whether or not to fight with treatments.  How does a son react to news like this?

We had an awesome weekend with Tiff and Chris.  It’d been a while since we could lounge around and chat it up.  Bowis and Taylor came down on Sat night for a little dinner party at our house — like our old Savory Six dinner parties in DC.  Chimes made two batches of sangria that tasted like punch.  I drank more wine this weekend than I have in a long time, but it was in great company.  Sunday morning, we dedicated Silas on the beach in a nice little service with friends and family.  We all sang Jesus Loves me acappella at the end of the dedication as done at Fourth — a tradition I really like.  It definitely choked me up a little.

Silas has a standard method for playing in the ocean.  He runs towards
the water, picks up two handfuls of sand, and then chucks the sand
into the water.  When the wave goes out, he runs towards it, not
realizing the next wave will swamp him.  Then he gets scared, and
usually gets salt water in his face, and I have to pick him up and
take him into the water.  I like to scoop up the little sand crabs in
the sand and put them in his hand.  He gets a little freaked out
because they’re totally creepy.

This past weekend, Bronwen and I drove through the wildfires engulfing the foothills of
Mt. Whitney and went hiking up at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine forest.  This is a grove of trees that are OVER 4,000 years old.  Think about how old that is.  They were alive at the birth of Christ and when the ancient Egyptians were building the pyramids.  The bristlecones grow at 11,000 feet in the Sierra Nevadas.  I’ve wanted to visit them since
I learned about their existence when I was in college.  The experience was totally spiritual.  I don’t know how to express it better than that.  We sat in silence sharing a moment with the trees.  These ancient beings have witnessed so much in their lives.  It puts our puny existence into perspective.  Life is slow and remarkable on these rocky cliffs.  Our guidebook explained the many reasons for the trees’  long life.  One of which is the ability for the tree to let parts of its bark, which is twisted and gnarly, die while the rest lives and continues to grow outward.  The oldest tree in the grove, Methusela, is unmarked to keep it safe from people.  I’d like to go back when I’m 70 and have another moment with the ancients.