All Social Commentary

My Cancer Journey: Choose a Partner for the Dance

T – 27 and counting. This past weekend, my daughter Kathryn along with my two granddaughters, Adela and Faye, spent the afternoon making calendars as their way of encouraging me forward on my countdown of the days remaining. That countdown will hit zero in the middle of January leaving me just a month to recover before my seventy fifth birthday. I hope they will always know how much that means to me.

When Deb and I met the doctor that first time, for a moment when the cancer word first entered the conversation, we felt terribly alone. Almost immediately the support started showing up. In fact, by the time we went home we had a radiologist team, oncology team, a nutritionist, a gastrologist, swallow therapy doctor, speech and language doctor, and a cancer guide nurse. Though overwhelming, Deb and I have come to realize how important they are if we are going to be successful.

I swear the radiologist team must have a hundred players. Every time I have a radiation treatment, there are three new faces in the room. To their credit, everyone of them know me and treat me like a guest at their inn, not just another patient for them to work through the system. When you can be made to feel comfortable while a machine zaps you for twenty minutes, well I am glad they are on the team. Meanwhile the oncology team makes me feel like I’m flying first class on United, except maybe for the IV tube and bag of chemo hanging over my head. Deb and I have our own little cubicle and even though busy with her schedule, the nurse attends to our snacks and beverage needs. Each team we meet with gives me more information and encouragement. They listen, and according to Deb, I don’t give them much of an option, but that chance to talk about it, to let my guard down, is my chance to find firm ground. No one ever had to ask me twice to let them know how I feel. I can bury that masculinity card pretty quick when there is someone who will listen, even if it is their job.

There was one strange piece today, or at least not as strange as this whole journey. The nutritionist mentioned that there are patients who forego these team services and just choose to meet with radiation and chemo alone. I say, if you’re offering I’m taking. I don’t know how you could give me too much support. For all of my working life, I made sure that I recognized the support people that surrounded me, that helped me meet the deadlines and accomplished all the details. I never thought that I could truly be successful without them. We were all part of a team in every sense of the word. Unfortunately, it is easy to take for granted that somehow the work could get done without them, that the patient would simple get better without them. Today I knew I needed to include the roles these nurses, doctors, practitioners, and therapists play in my cancer journey. I’m only six days in and I know I won’t be successful, or at least not as successful without them. They are all heroes and on this journey they are my heroes.

And There It Was

Posted on November 2 by kwundrow

Sometimes you can cruise through life. Some bumps here and there, but otherwise, smooth sailing. You begin to take things for granted. You go to bed each night knowing that tomorrow is another day. You go through your day, bumping into friends, talking to co-workers, doing what you do. And then it happens. You encounter a situation that you previously believed only affected others.

That something happened to me. It started innocently enough. It was a routine doctor’s appointment to have my hearing checked. Something was off. “Maybe it wasn’t my hearing” she said. She sends me to an ENT doctor. The ENT doctor finds something that worries her. Next stop, a CT scan and then the request to “come back in.”

My wife and I arrived at the appointed time that next day. Our anxiety was ramping up all the while I was busy thinking of other less worrisome possibilities. There is a knock on the office door. The doctor enters the room with her team of three other members. As the door closes behind the last doctor, we sit fearing what we are about to hear. “You have cancer.” And there it was. That diagnosis I had imagined other people hearing, wondering how that must have felt, are now mine to feel. I have cancer.

Most importantly, I have received a reprieve. My cancer is highly treatable with a ninety – ninety-five percent cure rate. If you are going to contract cancer, this is the one to choose. I will undergo the full series of radiation and chemo treatments. This will last 33 days. If and when all goes well, my cancer will be gone.

I am writing about this because putting it in the open is cathartic. It makes me accept it and it keeps me focused on what lies ahead. I am also hoping that by laying this out, those of you closest to me will worry less. There are three categories of cancer. There is cancer that offers no hope and requires incredible courage to deal with. There is a second category that I call “the hopeful” cancer. This category offers hope that if you can make it through treatment you have a better chance to beat it. And then there is my kind. I am describing it as “the common cold” cancer. Though it is not “nothing,” it is clearly less scary. There is more than hope, there is a high probability. I am thankful and humbled that my treatment journey will be far easier than so many others facing theirs.

Getting cancer has made me feel mortal. but the healing will make me feel stronger, more determined. It seems clique to remind people that we need to be more conscious of every day we get. To find the positive in it. To be grateful for every opportunity to make another person’s day just a little brighter. For every chance we get to be better than we were. When you see me, and I hope we get the chance, a hug is all I need. Let me be a reminder for you to value your life as much as that hug will value mine.

Chain of Events

Posted on August 31 by kwundrow

We were on the veranda of our river boat, our sliding glass door closed and locked behind us. My now very unhappy wife emphatically declaring that this is my problem to fix. She is correct in her accusation. After all it was I who had insisted the door would not lock if I pushed it shut. And I had, pushed it shut.

I began looking for a way out. There was always jumping into the river. but besides being unappealing, we were on the third deck. I could try peering around the divider hoping to find someone else out on their deck. Tried it, both sides, no luck. My wife, now getting anxious, reminds me once again that we are locked out of our comfortable cabin! Still guilty!

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I began yelling, to anyone who would hear me, “Help, anyone, I need help.” And suddenly, a head pops out from two decks down. “What do you need?” I explained that we were locked out, coincidentally without reference to blame. I asked that he find a porter and send them to our room. “Can do” was the answer and the talking head disappeared. Then, as the porter unlocked the door, he pops back out and declares “Hi, I’m Chris.” I replied, “I’m stupid but you can call me Ken.” And that was it, we knew our names and nothing else.

Two days later, I climbed the stairs to the top deck. A gentleman called me by name and said hi. The look on my face must have signaled that I didn’t recognize him. “I’m Chris,” he declares and extends his hand. As I thank him again, he introduces me to the group he is traveling with. One woman, Jada, begins a conversation with me. In short order, we find a connection. Though now from San Diego, she had grown up in Wisconsin. Upon further digging, it turns out she lived next door to my wife’s brother! She had actually babysat our nephews. Once my wife caught up to us, I introduced her, and her surprise was a treat.

There is an important take away from this story. Besides the fact that I had been rescued from an embarrassing situation, we had made new friends. Even if it was just for our week down the river. Experts say that as a culture, we are losing the art of conversation. We don’t know how or don’t want to engage with each other, let alone strangers on a boat. If Chris hadn’t gone beyond the rescue. If he hadn’t made the effort to tell me his name. If he hadn’t taken the risk in stopping to say hello. I would have never, halfway around the world, met the women who babysat my nephews.

Chain of events are funny things. What starts as an introduction, can often result in an interesting connection. But only if we pursue the conversation. In my case, Chris might not have shared his name. I would have thanked the porter and that would have been the end of this story. I would simply remember it as a very uncomfortable situation. Instead, it became a great story with a happy ending.

If I have to be, I will be a soldier in the war to save the art of conversation. Next time you are in the waiting line we were assigned to, be prepared to converse with me. I am betting we can share a great story and even find our connection. But don’t wait for me. See that person ahead of you, try it out. A simple hello might just be the start of a beautiful relationship. My nod to Casablanca.

Are we the frog?

Posted on March 30 by kwundrow

A study suggests that if you place a frog in a pot of chilly water and gradually increase the heat, the frog will stay in the pot. As its conditions worsened, the frog would simply adjust until it was finally too late.

I did not vote for President Trump, and I certainly did not vote for Elon Musk. Yet I cannot help but feel like that frog. It is for that reason that I have chosen to speak out.

Our environment is something we should care about. The next generations deserve the right to breathe clean air and to enjoy healthy rivers, lakes, and oceans. I will not tolerate the current disregard. Executive orders are now reversing regulations meant to rescue them. What will my grandchildren and my children’s grandchildren inherit?

All humans have rights. These rights are equal for everyone, regardless of race, gender, religion, or sexual orientation. Those rights include the right to have unrestricted access to health care. That as citizens, they have the right to vote without fear or impediment.

I believe in a global economy based on free trade. As the strongest economy and the greatest nation in the world, we need to be initiative-taking members of it. Nationalism does not serve that belief.

I DO NOT believe that every immigrant is a terrorist, rapist, or violent individual. To honestly believe that, is to be a racist. We need to offer realistic paths to citizenship for those who would enter our borders peacefully.

I believe in the right to own a gun, but I refuse to accept the right to own an assault rifle. As a society, we have the right to feel safe in our schools, churches, and other public buildings. Our children should not spend more time learning lockdown procedures than they do learning to read.

I believe in fiscal responsibility, but I do not believe in raising revenue through tariffs that hurt our own economy and the consumers who support that economy. I believe in fair taxation, but I do not believe in a war on taxes waged by those who could afford to pay them.

I believe in our judicial system and abhor those who would seek to ignore it while all the while using it for revenge on their advisories.

I ache for a return to election campaigns based on honesty and integrity. I prefer to cast my vote through an understanding of my candidate’s positions and beliefs rather than manipulation by fear.

I believe the current administration does not serve our best interests. I also fear that as a society, we will not react until it is too late. I urge you to attend a rally, write letters, and support each other by not being afraid to speak out.

I have made my decision. I am getting out of the pot before it gets too hot.

So I ask you, Is there a Santa?

Posted on December 25, 2024 by kwundrow

Please understand, I am a grown man who has been around the block a few times, many times in fact. So when I am asked, “Opa is there really a Santa?” How am I, a man of logic and reasoning, supposed to answer that?

I believe the evasive answer is that children certainly believe there is. Marketers for the likes of Coca Cola, Macy’s, and every department store out there, certainly seem to believe there is. There ads certainly imply that they do. There are a dozen or more Hallmark movies. These movies feature the jolly old soul as real. He can often be found lounging about in one of those Hallmark Christmas towns. Who am I to question it?

I think that Santa is a belief, no a necessity that lives inside the heart of each of us. When we feed the imagination of a young child, Santa lives. Santa is here when we reach out to someone in need. Santa lives when we give to a charity or give our change to the person on the street corner. Santa is there when we buy the anonymous gift for a coworker or neighbor. In that act, Santa lives. We become Santa.

Children need no proof that there is a Santa. They don’t need an explanation as to how he can visit every child in the world in one single night. They need no evidence that reindeer can fly. They just know it. I know it every time I see an act of random kindness. I see it whenever someone opens their heart and their wallet. Santa lives in everyone of us. When we get old enough to question reality, we need to step into the myth.

Well its almost midnight and my grandson is fast asleep. Guess I better get those Santa gifts under the tree. So when did I stop believing in Santa? Simple answer……I didn’t.

We Can Heal

Posted on November 15, 2024 by kwundrow

The election is behind us, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I was disappointed in the outcome. For those who know me, that won’t be much of a surprise. I just returned from interviewing a volunteer. We talked about the importance of making connections and building relationships. I couldn’t help but think about the irony of elections. Both parties stress how important is to get rid of the divisiveness that divides us as a nation. They each tell us how they will be the one to heal the nation and bridge that divide. To me, the idea of party politics is just the opposite. In elections we are asked to pick between two candidates. Whether you choose A or B, you have chosen a side and that generally deepens the divide. Our elections seem to come out near 50:50. This speaks volumes to the fact that as a populace, we are more undecided than we admit. If we really want to heal our divide, it won’t come from our elected officials. After all, they are bound to their party affiliate, and that is what divides us.

My wife and I recently attended an impromptu block party in a neighbor’s driveway. This neighbor had wanted the two newest homeowners on our block to have a chance to meet their neighbors. She had gone door to door and invited everyone on our block to come to her party. I expected a handful of them to seize the opportunity, but to our amazement, everyone showed up. The term neighbor implies someone in proximity and undoubtedly someone you know, maybe even friends with. Even though we had lived on this block for thirty plus years, we met people we had never known. That night we shared stories, the stories, of how we had come to live in this neighborhood; our neighborhood. We shared our phone numbers and our emails. We became neighbors who knew each other.

There is a point here. For those of you who have been readers of my blog, you know that there is always a point. Throughout that evening, we never talked about our politics. That would have divided us. We talked about our families, our kids, and our grandkids. We shared pictures and stories. We talked about life. If we are to heal the divide in this nation, it will start at gatherings like this. We heal through our interactions with each other. We heal as a nation when we rely more on each other and less on our politicians. They have the power to legislate, it’s what we gave them when we elected them. We have the power to set policy, we do it through public opinion. If we are going to close this divide. If we are to heal, it starts by first putting aside our differences and instead, accentuating our commonalities. Let’s realize that we are all neighbors who need to get to know each other. Let’s throw a block party for the nation, no judgments, no choosing sides, just conversations. I’ll invite you; you invite your neighbor. Welcome to the party, let me introduce you to the neighbors!

Lessons from the Trees: Part Two

Posted on August 28, 2024 by kwundrow

Last week as I was hiking with my grandkids on our favorite trail, I couldn’t help but make several observations. The first of these observations was that at my age I should know better than to think I can match the energy of a seven-year-old and a ten year old. To my surprise though, I came in a close second. As they explored and climbed and ran; I watched, and admired, and jogged. And except for their sprint to the finish line as they neared the end of the trail, I was there with them.

My second observation involved the trees. As I followed the trail through dense groves of cedars, maples, and oak trees stretching up from the forest floor, reaching to find the sun, it became clear that some of those trees had failed in their effort to survive. Some had succumbed to age while others had been pushed down by the fierce winds of a storm. While destined to crash to the ground, there were those whose fall had been arrested by a neighboring tree. Those trees hung suspended midway between their captor and the forest floor below. It was as if those trees refused to let one of their own give in to its fate.

As I walked, I thought about how people can be like those trees. We too can be knocked down. We too can fall. Sometimes it is life itself that knocks us down, but other times we might be pushed down by the very society that should be lifting us up. It might be another person who pushes us down, or maybe it’s an entire group of people that chose to push us down or hold us back. What can we as a society do to stop their fall? How do we catch them, or do we simply let them fall? It is said that until we fall, we cannot learn to rise, but is it their destiny that we let them fall, or our responsibility to be there when they cannot rise on their own?

We are in a very divisive political time. As we face this election, we have a choice, the choice to vote from our pocketbook or from our heart; to vote to protect our wealth or vote to protect our society. We get to make the choice. Will we offer a branch to catch the falling tree, or will we let it fall? We are that grove of trees, a society that whether we like it or not, depends on each one of its members to keep that society strong. The issues our society faces are numerous; our culture, our rights, our climate, our security, and our livelihoods. As you go to the polls, and I hope you do, consider the importance of these issues and then cast your vote to protect them. Let’s not be the one to just let the tree fall.

Lessons from the Trees

Posted on July 16, 2024 by kwundrow

It’s been a while since I sat down and wrote in my blog. It’s not because I was lazy or distracted, although that might have been part of the reason, it is just hard sometimes for me to find a topic that feels right. I have started multiple pieces only to have them end mid-sentence with no place to go. For me, if the topic is right, the piece finds its own ending.

I just returned from a hike with my grandchildren, Jackson and Adela. We had chosen one of our favorite trails, whose location we keep secret. If we didn’t, the solitude it offers would be diminished by the hordes of people it might attract, the crunch of pine needles beneath our feet would be replaced with the sound of a hundred other feet. For us the two-mile loop trail offers majestic lake views on our left and beautiful stands of hardwoods, evergreens and cypress groves on our right, and all along the trail, the solitude that comes with the deep green forest. As we follow the trail, it meanders past several rock and forest formations which my grandchildren have taken the effort to name. Queens Chair and King’s chair, one formed from a long ago fallen tree stump and the other from a perfectly formed boulder, Hotel Rock, a boulder big enough to scale as they always do, the Black Lagoon and Spit Bridge, don’t even ask but the sign says slippery when wet, are just a few of the names they have chosen. But of the many interesting formations are two trees, The Knotted Tree and the Resilient Tree.

The Knotted Tree is a cypress that at some time in its growth cycle, through an act of nature, found itself forced to grow around itself with the result being this tree that appears tied in a knot. The Resilient Tree faced a similar problem. At some point it had been blown down, likely by a heavy storm. Lying on the ground, stretched across the trail, with its roots turned up to the sky, it decided to survive. The tree began to grow upward from its roots at one end and the end of the trunk from the other. At one point, though recently trimmed to clear the trail, it had actually shot out a new limb that crossed the trail above its fallen trunk. It was upon passing these two examples of survival and adaptation, that the inspiration for this piece sprung forth.

We are currently in an unprecedented period of history. There is enough divisiveness and political rhetoric to grind even the most optimistic of us to despair. We are facing factions on both sides that see our way of life at peril if the other side wins. In this setting, it is too easy to just give up or at the very least give in. When I looked at those two trees today, I saw a metaphor for life. We can be knocked down. We can even choose to give up, but that is not what it means to live. We as humans have an incredible ability to adapt to new situations, to rebound from failure, to pick our way through the maze of issues, to continue to find a way forward. It is clique to say that every cloud has a silver lining, because sometimes they just don’t, but to give up is to choose not to live. Just like both of those trees, we can find a way to survive and even to thrive no matter what the storm that might try to shake us to our core.

Come this November we will be asked to voice our opinion as a nation, and we will do that with our vote. If we are to give into our fears, it we find ourselves pushed to the brink of cynicism, to a point where we decide to give up our right to vote, then we will be forced to live with the outcome regardless of our beliefs. If we choose instead to vote our conscience, then no matter the outcome, our voice will at least have been heard. Then like those two trees that, by persistence and resilience, found a way to survive, we too may find a way to adapt and even to thrive.

Are You Planting Trees?

Posted on February 11, 2024 by kwundrow

I was recently at a celebration of life when a friend of the person we were celebrating stepped to the mic to share his thoughts. In the midst of his remarks, he made a reference to old men planting trees. It was a a way of implying that she had left her mark in life at that her memory would live on even now that she was gone.

This remark struck a chord with me and inspired me to look up the background of that partial quote. The full quote I first found was “A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they shall never sit” and was credited to an ancient Greek proverb, but the authenticity was questioned, especially the “ancient” part. After a little more research with the help of Google, the oldest recorded rendition was cited in the 1951 book, The Life We Prize, by Elton Trueblood. He wrote “A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he can never sit.” Regardless of the exact wording or the cited source, I intend to use the Greek version for its simplicity and its relevance to my interpretation of the term legacy.

A legacy by its definition, is a gift of money and is associated with the passing of wealth from one generation to the next. In the more colloquial use of the term, it is often used to define the impact one’s life leaves on the generations that follow. We make a great deal about the legacy a famous person might leave for the world, but the truth is, we all leave our mark on the world, our legacy. Some legacies are great and deserve the reverence they garner. Abraham Lincoln left his legacy, elegantly defined, in the Emancipation Proclamation. Benedict Arnold also left his legacy, but it is not one we revere. Hopefully, the mark, or legacy we leave, will be of the revered type, regardless of whether it is monumental or not. The question is, do we shape our legacy or does fate? And, if we shape it, how and when do we begin?

Let’s go back to that celebration of life I spoke of. The attendees who were courageous enough to step to the mic, and there were many, spoke of their recollections and memories of Kathy. They spoke of her as a hard worker who motivated and had fun with co-workers. She was ethical and respected the rules. They spoke of what a good friend she was to those who came into her life. She was generous with her time for friends and family. She was kind and loving and fun. She was remembered. In short, she had left a legacy for her children, family, and friends. Even if the world may never experience it, her family and friends certainly will, and who are we to say that those same family and friends won’t go on to impact others, others who might in fact, impact the world? And, all thanks to the person Kathy was.

When I think of those words, “Old men plant trees…” I think of my children, grandchildren, and my grandchildren’s children. What world are we leaving them? Are we proud of our legacy or do we need to be planting more trees? I want my family to say that I left a legacy that they are proud of, that I was kind, a little funny, a little wise, and that I tried to do those things that would make life better, not just for them, but for society. I want them to understand that I voted intentionally for people who truly represented the people who elected them, who protected our society, our environment, and our democracy. I want them to know I cared about the environment that they would grow old in, and that in my small way, fought to improve it. I want them to be able to sit in the shade of the trees that I planted. That’s the legacy I want to leave.

None of us get to attend our own funerals. We can plan the event, but we won’t be giving the speeches. We can, however, shape the memories and stories they will tell and the legacy they will remember long after we are gone. It’s never too late to change as long as we start planting the trees.

On Purpose

Posted on November 19, 2023 by kwundrow

I had just arrived at my Saturday morning men’s group. In that group, we talk about issues facing men in general and specifically those that confront us. I had dragged my sleepy butt out from under my very warm covers and oh so soft pillow and was still questioning my reasoning as I grabbed a seat in the circle. Not knowing the topic for this day, I could only hope it would be something that would resonate with my needs. As I sat there pondering just that, the topic of the day was announced. We would be talking about purpose.

Purpose has always been an issue with me. Beside the fact that I preached it to my clients as what they needed to find in their life and for certain, in retirement, there are multiple dimensions to the idea of purpose. Many will state that purpose is what we do, while others will say it is how we conduct our life. I believe, and my fellow men affirmed me, it is the why we do what we do. Imbedded in the notion of purpose is the passion we feel for what we do. It is not enough that we are busy or even that we can tally up all the things we have accomplished, but rather that we are exercising our passion in the purpose we are serving. It is the exercise of those things that we are most passionate about that gives us the sense of purpose. To paraphrase my pastor, who might have paraphrased someone else, it is the difference between a human-being and a human being.

My epiphany about purpose is that it isn’t what I do to solve my need but rather what I do to help others. A life of purpose gives me a sense of accomplishment, even joy, when I can see what it does for others. So back to retirement. The most difficult issue that holds a person back from retiring, isn’t truly the financial or even the insurance, it’s what will they do when they no longer work for that company or run their business. How will they fulfill that need to be useful? I am not discounting the fact that finances and insurance play a big part, I am just saying that it is the fear of no longer having a purpose that causes them to hesitate, in some cases, to even throw down other roadblocks to retirement even when they don’t exist or at least are not that critical. The mistake is believing that doing our job was our purpose. It seems appropriate to quote Marley (A Christmas Carol), “Mankind was my business.”

I was a tax and investment planner by trade and worked with hundreds of clients as they tried to make sense of their finances. It is what I did, and when I wasn’t taking time to put it in perspective, I would often believe that solving those problems was my purpose when in reality it was something much different. When it finally came time for me to practice what I preached and face retirement, I realized how if I wasn’t deliberate, I was about to fail miserably. I needed to come to grips with just exactly what was my purpose. After some introspective and a lot of listening to others as they tried to define me, I came to the realization that it wasn’t what I was doing, but why I did it. Throughout my career as a teacher and then a planner, it was the opportunity to help others solve their problems. Not the solving of the problem, but being able to help them solve their problem. That is what I was passionate about and has proven to be the why of my purpose.

I am seven years into retirement and still learning the power of purpose and understanding what it is that will let me find my sense of that every day of my life. I still listen to every discussion shared about the topic. That’s what I was doing in my men’s group that morning. Some of what I heard was affirmation of my belief. Other parts of the conversation deepened my understanding of purpose offered through the perspective of the other men in the group. Some were even epiphanies, reminders that learning never stops until we do.

I will continue to seek my purpose in the things I do and the people I meet. I will try to be a better person every day, but not for me. I will do it for you.

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