Monday, November 30, 2015

Not Forgotten

I had a great holiday week, but I have to be honest and admit that I’m glad it’s over, only because I am exhausted from the going and doing that accompanies it. I got to see a few friends that I rarely get to spend time with, including my high school best friend that I haven’t seen in about seventeen years, and that was beyond wonderful. However, catching up with friends, spending time with family, and good times abounding can wear you out. To start the new week, I went to Florence, AL today and donated my time working at the Help Center. It’s part of my pay it forward mentality I’ve adopted these days. Plus, I feel like for every charitable deed I do, maybe I can atone for past sins.

Typically, after a bout of good-deed-doing, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling all over. Today, I did not. Maybe it was the cold, rainy weather, or perhaps fatigue from the recent week’s activities, but as I drove home after my volunteer shift, I couldn’t help but feel rather melancholy. Perhaps it was knowing that I really didn’t do anything special and that for most of the people that came in today, their problems are much larger than anything I can fix. They leave with groceries and possibly a couple bags of clothes, but not much else. There were stories of those who can’t find work, or a house that recently burnt, or bad health that leaves them unable to keep a steady job. A brown paper bag full of canned food isn’t going to fix that.

Or maybe my depressing mood was because today only served as a reminder that life isn’t easy, and the solutions to everyday problems are often more complicated than anything that can be fixed in one day. Or sometimes even, in one year. This past Thanksgiving, as I was be-bopping up my cousin’s walkway, arms full with a casserole, tea and a few bottles of wine, it occurred to me that the Thanksgiving prior to this one, was a much different story. I wasn’t carrying wine or a casserole. As a matter of fact, I had to have help just getting out of the car. I can remember pulling into the driveway, popping a pain pill, and waiting for the wave to pass before attempting to get of the passenger seat. And throughout dinner, I barely moved. At times it’s easy to forget that. It’s easy to forget how bad things were, during a period in life when things seem better. But I do not want to forget. Ever.

As I stood at the counter of a gas station this afternoon, waiting on my friend to finish pumping gas so we could pay for it, an older gentlemen turned to me and said (as I stood staring out the window) that I had a faraway look fitting for a rainy day. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then, as he was walking out the door, he turned around and smiled at me again. There was something about that smile. It was one of those knowing smiles. A smile that says, “I understand.” “I’ve been there before.” The truth is, we all have been there at one time or another. The trick is to not forget it. When we lose ourselves in the commonality of everyday living, it becomes easy to take these moments for granted. It’s only when we make a conscious effort to remember the pain from our past, that we can embrace our present and make purposeful our future.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Turkey Day Tribute

Okay, so I guess I should apologize for not posting anything in two weeks. In my defense, since the last we met, I’ve been to Colorado and back, had another spot on my liver burnt off, and walked up and down Beale Street listening to some blues. I mean, who has time for writing amongst all that?

Quick thing on Colorado: I freaking loved it!!!! And for one main reason, and that reason, is marijuana is completely legal there. Now, granted you have to be 21 to purchase it, and you can’t just light it up in the middle of a restaurant, but they do have smoke bars and pot friendly areas. And of course, in your own home, you can do whatever you want with it. The hotel we stayed in had a smoking area, which was awesome. I met two different couples there, a young couple from Florida and an older couple from Pennsylvania, who were there for the same reasons; to smoke weed without worrying about cops busting down your door. To be honest, I’ve never understood why it’s not legal everywhere.

But that’s another post for another day. Maybe next week. This week I want to focus on the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. It’s a day dedicated to giving thanks for our blessings. Granted, we should do this every single day, but most of us don’t. We forget. We wake up in a hurry to get dressed for work, spend hours responding to texts, calls and emails, get our jobs done, then rush back home for dinner, laundry, and late night television. Then we get up and do it all over again. Except Saturdays. And on Saturdays, in the fall, in the South, we drink beer and watch football. But at Thanksgiving, we gather around the table with our families, and take a minute to appreciate one another before digging into the turkey and dressing, and then promptly fall into a food coma. I have to be honest, one of my favorite things about Thanksgiving are the leftovers. Casseroles just seem to taste better the second time.

I try to remember these days to include a moment of thanks in my daily routine. Not that I have a daily routine anymore. I just commented to a friend today that every day is Saturday for me, but without the beer and football. That’s what happens when you haven’t had a real job in over a year. But I do try to stop and say a prayer at the end of each day thanking God for the blessings in my life, even though I too, sometimes forget. But I have so much to be thankful for. Being alive is quite obviously at the top of that list. My parents being a close second. And my girlfriends, well, I can’t imagine my life without them. But I’m honestly thankful for all the wonderful people in my life. I’m thankful for you all, who are reading this post right now, for supporting me on this journey. I am thankful for every single person who has helped me in any way throughout the last year and a half. Sometimes I catch myself feeling a bit guilty at all of the kindness that has been bestowed upon me. Who am I to deserve it? I have tried in earnest to pay it forward as much as I can by doing things for others in need. And I have no doubt if I lived 100 more years, I would never be able to repay that debt of gratitude. But I can always try. And I will.

And I am thankful for every trial I have gone through and every lesson learned along the way. I am thankful for a second chance at life, God willing. Let’s all try a little harder to acknowledge life’s blessings each and every day, and not just on holidays or Sunday mornings. Tell the people you love, today, that you love them. And thank God for every day you wake up, because one day, you won’t.

So happy Thanksgiving to each and every one of you. May your holidays be filled with love, laughter and leftovers.

Monday, November 2, 2015

For Better or Worse

This time two years ago I was pretty sure life couldn’t get much better. This time one year ago, I was pretty sure it couldn’t get much worse. Nowadays, I hope for better and pray for no worse. The last year and a half has shown me that life can very suddenly take a turn in any direction, and that things can get a helluva lot worse than you ever imagined. And if given the chance, I would not hesitate to change my present circumstance. And if it were in my power, the word cancer would not exist. But it does. And I can’t change that. But not everything in the past year has been without merit.

I can very clearly recall a time period this past fall, when I was so sick I was certain I was knocking on death’s door. And it retrospect, I may have been knocking louder than I thought. It was during this particular time frame, that on one day my ex-husband came to pay me a visit and check on me. I was going through radiation at the time, and battling c-diff. I was completely dehydrated and in utter agony. No, I’m not being dramatic. It literally took all my strength and energy just to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. In fact, I was in bed the day he came to visit. I could barely move. He walks into my bedroom and immediately his face took on the look of someone who has just seen a ghost. He quickly tried to compose himself and recover, but in that one instant, his expression betrayed him. I lived with the man for 12 years. I can read him like a book. In that moment I knew just how terribly close to death I looked. He told me much later that he went home and cried that day. He was certain I was dying.

But I didn’t die. In some of those darkest moments, when every piece of me hurt, and I was so sick that some days it felt easy to just give up, I would pray. I would lay in bed and cry, not just for myself, but for those around me who were affected by my condition, like my parents. Their love for me was one of the things that got me through. I would ask God to spare me for their sake. I knew that if I died, my friends and family would be upset, and certainly mourn my death. But I also knew that they would manage without me. Eventually the pain would ease, and while they might miss me on occasion for the rest of their lives; their lives would continue on. But not my parents. My parents would be devastated. I am their only child. If I died, it would absolutely break their hearts. And I just couldn’t do that to them. So I prayed. I begged and pleaded with God to not take me just yet, for them, if for no other reason at all. And for now, I am still here.

So what good has come from this journey? Well, I have tried in earnest to remove the phrase “I’m too busy” from my vocabulary, because I understand that 99.9% of the time, it’s only a lie we tell ourselves and others. You will always find time in life for what or who is important and meaningful to you. So, instead I prioritize what is important to me, and at the end of the day, I feel as though I have made the most of it. I try to to be more patient and forgiving of others, even though there are times when I still fail. I have come to value my relationships more so than ever before. Our connection with others is perhaps what matters most in our lives. This will be your legacy. The people in your life will be the ones who recall you in death. And my relationship with my parents is one that has indeed become stronger, among a few others. I have challenged myself in new ways since my diagnosis. I was forced to take an introspective look at my life, and decide what changes needed to be made and where I want to go from this point forward. Because of this, I am now looking into an entirely new career path, which is both scary and exciting. I have a new peace with life and death that I didn’t have before, and a newfound confidence and deeper sense of self.

I still pray for healing, not just for my body, but for my mind, heart and soul. There are still hard days. Today is one of them. Last week was pretty tough too. I underwent ablation on my liver to remove one of two lesions. Next week doesn’t look much better, as they will be doing the same thing on the second spot. But I know I can get through it. And I know that with all of the bad days, there will still be good days too.