When I was a little girl riding my bike over the adobe hills on the outskirts of Montrose, Colorado, and throwing dry ice bombs into the canal behind the house across the street, and trespassing into various fields in the name of bedlam, my Uncle Chester was busy being a ROCKET SCIENTIST at NASA.  No matter what stupidity you read here, let it be known that there is actual intelligence in the Parsons genes.

We lived thousands of miles apart, and saw each other every couple of years before he died in 1991.  I only have a few memories of him from real life, from real interaction – but one thing is for sure: Uncle Chester wore The Glasses.

You know the ones.

The ones that the scientists wore in “Apollo 13.”

The ones that Squints wore in “The Sandlot.”

And… the ones that the cool kids are apparently wearing now?

Every time I see some hipster in The Glasses, I have to chuckle, and then kind of cringe.  Because if by being related to Uncle Chester I claim that I have a fighting chance at brilliance, then I have to admit that one day, I, too, might look like Buddy Holly.

Never rule anything out.

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Mom’s surgery went really well last night – thank you for all of your well wishes and prayers.

For the past several years, Thanksgiving has been the occasion of the Parsons’ Family Christmas Picture.  We usually get some great outtakes – but never so amazing as this.

Does anyone know what’s happening here?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Because I have no recollection of this moment.

But clearly, Swayze was wrong: SOMEBODY puts Baby in a corner – and that somebody is Mom.

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Mom’s cancer treatment starts today – major surgery in Denver at 4pm.  Thanks for keeping her in your prayers.

I struggle with the question, “What am I doing with my life?”  I always have.  And with each passing day, week, year, I am no closer to finding the answer – I am learning to just take one day at a time.

However, even though I might not know what I am doing with my LIFE, I think that I will always know when it’s time to do what’s NEXT.  And once again, I’ve reached that pivotal point.  The doors have flung wide open in an undeniable way, and I am choosing to walk through them.

I am Denver-bound.

It turns out that my mom’s cancer is more serious than originally thought – and I need and want to be there throughout her treatment (another surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation).  The worst feeling in the world was getting that dreaded phone call, and being 1200 miles away.  I cannot rest in that reality.  My mom is my “person,” and I need to be close.

I am in the incredibly fortunate position to work for a company that does not see their employees as a commodity, but as humans with real lives – leading the “powers that be” to be gracious and supportive in the midst of crises.  Emma has a small Colorado office, and is willing to let me work from Denver on an open-ended basis.  I am heading west around Christmastime.

I am not calling it “moving.”  I am leaving my stuff in storage here in Nashville, and “temporarily relocating for the indefinite future.”  I don’t know what will happen, or where this will lead – it’s impossible to know what the coming months will bring.  But I just know that it feels too early – too sudden – to close the door on my Nashlife.  That may or may not wind up being relevant.  But it’s how I feel right now.

I am hoping to rent a room in Denver, or house-hop for a bit – giving me a place to sleep during the week, and leaving me free to spend my weekends in Colorado Springs with my parents.  So if you happen to live in Denver and know of any options, please let me know – because I don’t want to live under a bridge.

Obviously, there are still details to work out.  But I do know that this is “what’s next.”  Until then, you will find me crying most days, snuggling with Julie and Mel most nights, praying for my mom, and hoping that God knows what he’s doing.

Last week, while the EP listening party was happening here on the blog, and I was steadily posting a new track each day, there was a lot happening in my life.  Like, A LOT a lot.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer – soft tissue sarcoma.  The doctors removed a mass from her hip socket; when they cut her open, it “bulged out like a zit”… or something.

I hope you’re enjoying your breakfast, by the way.

I don’t really know how to write about the phone call that I got on Tuesday night – my mom telling me that she had cancer.  I know that there were instant, uncontrollable tears on my part.  I know that I was suddenly confronted with the overwhelming fear of losing a parent – something that I have never really had to deal with before.  I know that after I hung up the phone with her, I told Greta the news, and then cried some more, because I was completely terrified and couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

But then, I stood up and blew my nose and made a grilled cheese for Julie who was coming home from work.  It was all very surreal.

On Wednesday afternoon, I found myself in a daze, throwing clothes in a bag, getting in my car and driving out of Nashville.  Have I mentioned that I do not do well with spontaneous decisions or chaotic situations?  About 30 miles out of town, I realized that I didn’t even pack a coat; my stress and anxiety levels were through the Honda roof.  But after driving 18 hours and 1200 miles, I was with my parents and all three of my siblings in Colorado Springs.

We arrived to the amazing news that her scans were clear, that the cancer had not spread.  There are no words to describe the relief – that even though the situation is serious, and cancer is evil embodied, the news was good.  I saw Mom’s 8-inch incision, and her Buzz Lightyear contraption around her hip.  We spent the weekend together as a family, stepping over the 4 dogs and eating a ton of food and talking about everything from life to death to the latest episode of “The Office.”

It was so good to be there.

Today, I point the wheel back toward Tennessee, and after an eternity of driving, will be in my own bed tonight.  I don’t really know what happens next – my parents will meet with the orthopedic oncologist this week to figure out the next steps.  There is still so much that is unknown.

But I know that I love my mom more than I could ever say.  And I know that this changes things.

Jeremy: “I have some great ideas for pictures on the cruise.”

Me: “Awesome!”

Jeremy: “I know.  There’s one shot that I’m positive I’ll have to get.”

Me: “Cool – what is it?”

Jeremy: “Well, it will be you, in some sort of dress.  And we’ll go to the very front of the boat.  And you’ll climb up on the railing, and spread out your arms.  And we’ll find a deckhand to come up behind you and whisper into your ear…”

Trust me: if we make this happen, you will be seeing it.

One month from yesterday, I will be leaving here…

… and flying here.

One month from today, I will be on my way here…

… onboard this.

One month from tomorrow, I will be watching these…

… with wonderful family members, including them.

We will welcome her back from Haiti.

I will buy her one of these.

And upon re-porting in Seattle, I’ll be a bridesmaid for them.

Who might as well be them.

All of these things make me feel like this.

I am so lucky.  Here are some reasons why:

1)    I work for a company that values good coffee, and shuns the typical bitter office grounds.  I’ve completely stopped making coffee at home, because there is an endless supply of the good stuff here at work.
2)    Greta left the world’s best video message on my Facebook wall last night.  If you’re my Facebook friend, you should go watch it right this second.  If you’re not my Facebook friend – uh, what are you waiting for?
3)    I spent 4 ½ hours recording vocals last night with Josh and Meg.  Piece by piece, little by little, I am putting together songs.  How many people get to do that?  Okay fine, BESIDES in Nashville?
4)    Tonight, I am seeing my entire family in Kansas City – everyone but littlest sister Sarah.  Because you want to know where Sarah is?  Read this.  And now tell me: don’t YOU feel lucky, too?  I am so proud of her.
5)    After this weekend, I will have earned a FREE FLIGHT on Southwest.  And you know what that means: 4 free drink coupons.

Peace out.

And… peace in.

As I mentioned yesterday, I am house-sitting / dog-sitting this weekend.  Sleeping in a king size bed is weird.  I like my little double mattress.  The king bed just feels so… huge, and excessive, and unnecessary, and lonely.

Oh!  But it’s not lonely when you have two gigantic Labradors to share the space!

Gah.  I will never understand people who let their dogs sleep on the bed (sorry, Becca, and all you other crazy dog people).

Don’t get me wrong – I love dogs.  I LOVE them.  But there is a reason that L.L. Bean is still in business, and I’m pretty sure that it has nothing to do with their multi-colored fleeces.  Although the Christmas 2006 Parsons family might beg to differ:

I come from a family of nomads, with someone always moving and roaming and starting over. For the past 5 ½ years, my parents have been planted in Kansas City, and eventually, all of my siblings followed. My older brother and his family are there. My two younger sisters are there. I’ve been the one rogue for quite some time, living on my own in Seattle, and now, in Nashville.

But my parents are shifting again – this time, to Colorado Springs in May. Sister Becca is moving to Ft. Collins in a few weeks. And once again, the Parsons will be scattered across the country like a constellation.

I’m back in Kansas City this week to help my family sift through the junk items in their house, thin out their possessions, rip off wallpaper, and throw away anything ugly or useless. All I will say about this process is that I’m glad that it’s happening now – because if we waited another 30 years until my parents are gone, I’m pretty sure that the pile of detritus would be so large, the only solution would be to strike a match and burn it down.

I am also here to become the sole bearer of my possessions, and take them back to Nashville with me. Ever since early childhood, I’ve put any important mementos in the sacred “Blue Bin” – basically the Ark of the Covenant, in Rubbermaid form. Last night, I opened up the bursting box to see what was inside… and this is what I found.

What I Found in the Blue Bin from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

I kept the good things – and there were definitely treasures – but needless to say, MUCH was trashed. I have no need for old high school band programs, or ticket stubs from Colorado Rockies games, or sketches of CareBears, or pink “participant” ribbons from art fairs, or homemade ceramic pots with dolphins painted on the side.

Or my old teeth or hair, as it were.

Carol of the Belles from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.