All Categories - trish hermanson

My Chest Is Unremarkable?

7/19/2021

It’s embarrassing, but a medical report recently declared that my chest is “unremarkable.”
     What an insult, except in this case, it was good news.
     That’s because “unremarkable” indicates no more cancer was detected through screening. Whew!
     This incident caused me to think about how insensitive medical terminology can be. For example, when I showed another doctor how easily my hands bruise, he said, “You won’t like this. It’s ‘senile purpura.’” No reason for alarm, he said. Just another sign of (gulp) being older. But why call it “senile?”
     The most insulting medical phrase I’ve heard is when a woman becomes pregnant after the age of thirty-five. Physicians call her situation a “geriatric pregnancy.” That means you can be in your thirties and be declared geriatric.
Do you think the medical field needs sensitivity training?

We Watched Life Swept Away by the Current

7/5/2021

Duane and I marveled at the sight of a fledgling as it launched out of a cottonwood and wobbled through the air on its first flight. But then it landed in the nearby creek, flapping its baby wings frantically to escape. Duane hustled down to the water’s edge and reached in to rescue it, but the fast-moving current swept it downstream.
     Gone.
     Drowned.
     And I sobbed. Such a waste of a beautiful life that had only begun to fly. But it landed in a place it should never have gone and was swept into a current it could never handle.
     As can happen with us. Sometimes we’re fledglings in relationships. Or careers. Sometimes we fly into places we should never go or aren’t ready for. Then the current sweeps us away.
     Downstream, Duane and I searched the creek bank, but didn’t find the little bird. Then I remembered Jesus’ words that God knows even when a sparrow falls to the ground, and that I’m worth more than a flock of sparrows. So when I make disastrous landings, I can reach up toward heaven, and God will pluck me out of the current.
  I’ll still be soaked with the consequences of my choices, but I’ll be back on safe ground.

Sanding Out Gouges in My Life

6/18/2021

When I was refinishing an old oak table recently I ran across a gouge left decades ago when one of our little girls was exploring that forks could be weapons. Could I sand it out? No, that would leave an ugly divot. Besides, the pockmark is part of the table’s history.
     I carry gouges in the tabletop of my life, too. I became aware of a particular one when Duane and I bought that table unfinished and I spent hours sanding it. The process of smoothing it raised some grain in my emotions - a scar from a job where my boss wielded authority in such a way I was left emotionally abused. As I sanded, anger and grief rose in me, and my tears spattered across the unfinished wood. Was reconciliation possible? I didn’t think so, but I asked God for compassion and forgiveness for her. Years later with trepidation I hosted her for a meal at that table. The conversation was cordial - but not honest. Unsatisfying.
     More years passed. The woman died. Here I was sanding the table again, and the old pain surfaced. My former boss still wields power over me from the grave. How much better it would have been if we had come clean with each other.
  A gouge remains in me. But the hurt is less. The scar is smaller. And in the unfathomable way that God turns the tables on our troubles, it reminds me of how important it is to forgive because I have been forgiven much.

What Do Bono, Beyoncé, and I Have in Common?

5/24/2021

What do Bono, Beyoncé, and I have in common?
     We are all one-name wonders. My moniker is “Grams,” which I’m especially proud of since my granddaughter Magdalene asked me to join her in a recital after I began teaching her autoharp. I gotta tell you, we rocked.
     In the recital’s printed program, I’m listed simply as “Grams.” This pleases me because grandparenting is a great calling, whether children are biological or informally “adopted” through friends or neighborhood. But our role can be tricky. We don’t want to mess with established family culture. We can’t depend on affirmation. And while being on standby for parents, we must still maintain our own lives.
     So we take opportunities as we spot them. We give what we can, and sometimes more than we can. Our contributions may fit our personality. Duane does metal and woodworking projects with kids. I play silly word games with them. Sometimes what we give is as simple as a wink, a smile, and a ride to an activity. Whatever we do, we affirm these kids’ God-given value, calling them forth to find their place in the world.
     So let’s rise up for this great calling. We grandparents are archers fitting arrows into bows, aiming precious souls into a century we will never see and places we will never go.
  We really are one-name wonders.

Welcoming Fred Home

5/11/2021

Duane and I just returned from the South helping our daughter Ashley, her husband Steve, and their children move. Pictured with me are Oak, Eve Juniper, and Ashley, along with a lamp named Fred that we delivered from our Colorado home.
Why Fred? When Ashley was ten, she was heartsick after Duane felled a conifer in our yard that was being crowded out by other trees. So she and Duane created Fred from a branch of the tree, and the lamp illuminated her bedroom for years. Ashley has transplanted herself many times since growing up, bringing light as she visited or lived in fifteen countries on five continents.
Now that she's more settled, we’re glad we could bring the funky Fred back to provide light for her kids. Perhaps he’s an example of the children’s song that even when we’re cut down in life, we can sing, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.”