For the Butterfly Girl

Butterfly, close your eyes, butterfly
Fold your wings
Dream sweet dreams, butterfly.
When you feel the sun warm on your face again
You will fly
Spread your wings
Butterfly.
- Lisa Loeb, Butterfly (Mariposa)

There are things I have been keeping to myself, because they are sad things and I'm not really sure if or when it's appropriate to share them. My oldest sister, who landed in the hospital a few weeks ago, is in my heart and in my prayers every hour of every day. The situation continues to be very serious, with the doctors delivering a dire prognosis. But my sister is a fighter, and I am not counting her down and out just yet.

She was given a number of options for where she might be transferred next, and the one that she picked was rehab. She was both excited and nervous about the idea. And so on Thursday evening, my sister was transferred to a rehab floor at Holy Spirit Hospital in Camp Hill.

I was originally planning to visit her on this day, but with the move to rehab, we knew she'd be very busy there in her first few days (my husband used to work in a rehab hospital), and we all thought it was best to give her some time to get adjusted and settled in. So we did not drive to Harrisburg on this day to visit her. I will plan to see her next week, as soon as she says she is ready to receive visitors again. (Had I spoken to her, I'm sure she would have given me her usual request - that I go and stick my feet in a cold mountain stream on her behalf instead.)

When our plans for Friday were hanging in the balance, I had promised my husband that if we did not drive to Harrisburg, we would take the day off anyway and (with a holiday weekend coming up in the States) try to go somewhere to have some fun. And so that is what we did. We seized the day and went on an outdoor adventure which took us to Stone Valley (there's water in Lake Perez again!), and then Couch's Restaurant (which has yummy cole slaw, among other things), and finally to Whipple Dam for a swim.

With our tummies full after Couch's, we waited for a little while to go in swimming. And so I walked around the lake at Whipple Dam with my camera, scoping out the lake's critters. What did I find near the spot where we were parked but a stand of milkweed, which smelled very sweet. And several great spangled fritillaries were flittering around the plants enjoying them. (Butterflies! A sign of hope!) I zoomed in and got some decent shots. I thought of my sister, how she would enjoy them, as she is the original butterfly girl, with a large tattoo of a blue butterfly on her back.

The shot I WISH I had (this is the problem with hanging out with photographers - you have to listen to their "fish tales," the stories about "the one that got away") was the one where a hummingbird flew up to the milkweed flower, chased off an orange fritillary, took a quick sip, and flew away. LIGHTNING FAST. Dang it, folks, I think of myself as being pretty quick on the trigger, but I missed the shot.

I was pleased, though, with the butterfly pictures I did get. As seldom as I see butterflies these days, any time I see one is a celebration. And as I walked along the banks of the water, I saw plenty of dragonflies and damselflies hanging out, just doing bug stuff. Check out the picture in the "extra photos" area, lower right, to see a photo of the damselfly that looked like it might be pole dancing in the weeds.

And of course, I swam sleekly like a muskrat through the cold water. The water was very, very chilly. Colder than last time, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's all the recent rains. Getting in is tough. You put in a single toe. Then you walk in inch by inch, holding back a screech, trying to go slow enough so as not to shock yourself. But then suddenly, you are in!

And the water is so cold it stifles any thought, any fear, any other thing but the swim itself. I emerged from my day refreshed, as always happens when I spend time outdoors. Cold water. Butterflies. Dragons and damsels. A good meal. And hovering over it all, the thought of a new hospital, new doctors, new ideas for my sister. It was a pretty good day.

And so I would add this one thing. It is important to live in truth, to work with what is real, to grapple with the things life throws one's way. Sometimes the road ahead can seem dark and menacing. But in the middle of trying times, always leave room . . . for the flittering butterfly of hope.

The song to accompany this image is the one whose lyrics appear above: Lisa Loeb, with Butterfly (Mariposa). The music begins at about a minute in. And thank you for continuing to send all healing thoughts and wishes toward my sister.

With much love,
The GirlWithACamera