As I reached for a coffee mug this morning, I had to laugh when my hand settled blindly on the one exclaiming, “I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”!

Indeed!

I’m not sure exactly where we are, but I do know where we are not.

Last night, the concierge from a rental property in Lake Tahoe, CA called us. Twice. She was anticipating our arrival and wondered when she could expect us to check in, and what our needs for the evening might be.

Well, ma’am, that’s a rather long and complicated answer.

Fortunately for this woman, she got my better half on the phone. Jim chose to simply state that our travel plans had changed.

Our family vacation has been more than 3 years in the making. But as they say, life is what happens while you’re busy making plans. Apparently that’s when cancer happens, too. And despite our ongoing pleas to the Marmot Vacation Rentals agency to consider our extraordinary circumstances, they are choosing policy over humanity and are denying us any consideration.

Like I said, she’s lucky Jim answered the phone - especially since the rental agency should have notified the condo a month ago to release our reservation! Insult to injury. I might have unfairly misplaced some of my indignation on the innocent concierge who was only trying to do her job (a trait I admire after recent dealings with United Airlines and Marmot Vacation Rentals). Having just spent 56 minutes and 1 second of my life on the line with United trying to connect with a person rather than their automated system - only to have that long-awaited person - the customer service supervisor, no less - hang up on me (!!!!!!!!!), I might not have been so easy to deal with. (Those of you who know me well are probably nodding your heads at this. And that’s okay. I know who I am!).

But this isn’t really about a cancelled vacation. Or my current ire at Marmot Vacation Rentals and United Airlines for their callousness (well, maybe it is a little about Marmot and United). It’s about what it’s like to live in limbo – something I’m historically terrible at doing.

My 2014 New Year’s resolution was to be more “in the moment”, having wasted much angst and emotional capital preparing for things that have either never come to pass, or have come and gone with far less drama than anticipated. I reframed and reinforced this ambition at the beginning of Lent – and had been doing reasonably well until March 13th, too! But now, as circumstance would have it, this moment has cancer in it (Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!). And now I’m back to fretting over a to-be-determined future. I don’t even know which future to worry about anymore – the phone call this week to deliver Callen's results? Or the end of his three years of treatment? Or the five year cancer-free mark? Or the day he gets his driver’s license? Or … or … ?

So, no, we’re not in Kansas anymore - or California for that matter. This week we’ll enjoy God’s country in our own back yard. Take in the sights. Listen to the sounds. Experience the joys and miracles present in the every day lives of our children. Because there is still more beauty than bureaucracy in this world, despite what Marmot and United would have us believe.

This week, we’re offering leukemia the chance to go on Spring Break, an all-expenses paid holiday to Tahoe courtesy of – well - you know! Take all your other cancer buddies along. And feel free to wreck your havoc on each other there, we’ve pre-paid the damage fee. And leave a mess in your wake, because we’ve paid to have the place cleaned upon your departure.

Oh, yes, I’m working hard to let it go…