Tag Archives: life

a very important day

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I missed it. 3 January was my 5 years. I am officially 5 years cancer free. I was officially cancer free for 5 years, 2 days ago. The day I have held as my goal without really meaning to, yet yes counting and being subtly aware of. And I missed it. It was a damn important day for me, a day I wanted to mark and rejoice and give thanks and smile and be still and light a lantern and gently weep, looking up into B’s eyes with wonder and love at all we have achieved. Ohmigod, I think I’m going to vomit. And am seriously considering romance novels as my next outlet. But, how simply fabulous that I missed it. I love that. Even though I made B squirm cos he missed it too. I haven’t told him I had too. Well, I have now. Seriously though. Life is great, life is every day, every little thing every day is as important as everything else, nothing is more important, it’s just the importance we attach to things that makes them so.  I am here, I am loved and I love. With all my heart and I am thankful and grateful for every day. And not especially for 3 January. I have grown, I am brave and I look forward to every day with courage and excitement and gratitude. As must we all.

three hundred and fifty two

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1 January. I am grateful for a new year. Not because 2012 was not a year to celebrate, it was, for all the lessons learnt, challenges faced, decisions made, love shared and life lived. I am grateful for every moment. But I am looking forward to moving forward. To being less in limbo, to truly living what is, to making a real home for the girls and to even more love and laughter. Life is good.

three hundred and fifty

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30 December. I am grateful for a trip down memory lane and for worlds colliding, a Melissa’s in Parkhurst. Perfection. I loved living in Parkhurst. But I still don’t get why they painted our crisp white wall dog poo brown. Not that I care. But seriously, what were they thinking. I guess there is no going back.

three hundred and forty six

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26 December. I unwittingly tried to minimise change in my children’s worlds. Tried to protect them from the one thing they actually needed to learn to deal with. The one constant in the world we know. Change. I blame my control freak tendencies and forgive myself because my intentions were good, my motive was love. So I am grateful, so very grateful that I have learnt that whilst change can be painful, it can also be beautiful. If you embrace it. It is liberating, you grow from it, you learn a lot, not only about yourself but about others. And I most especially learnt what I was capable of. And not to be fearful. I know my girls have grown immeasurably too. I knew it for a fact today when I stumbled across this passage Kate had found meaningful enough in her book to capture. Things do change. And life doesn’t stop for anybody. I am grateful my girls know this.  Really know it. And more importantly embrace it. Embrace the adventure of life, the ups and downs.  And are learning not to take what they have right now for granted. And I’m grateful I no longer feel guilty they had to face fears I would rather they hadn’t, I now see it as a gift. To us all.

three hundred and forty four

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24 December. I’m very grateful the hippos decided to visit the same sundowners spot as the girls. En masse. What a wonderful show they put on for them. A perfect welcome home to Africa.

 

three hundred and thirty eight

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18 December. I am grateful for the mundane, the chores of life. Just getting on with things like please mommy you promised I could get a haircut, has kept me focussed, strong and able. You know, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

three hundred and thirty

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10 December. We have a lot of shit. A lot. I am so very grateful the apartment is finally empty. And that the cleaners were late because I had a quiet contemplative moment remembering and being thankful for a perfect three years.  Although I simply cannot grasp it’s been three years. How did that happen?

fraud

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I just realised I’m a bit of a fraud. I just had surgery. And it was cosmetic. Well, not really. Actually not at all, but it was a lift. Of sorts. An internal one. To my bowel. Shudder. I’m a fraud because as you all know I am a tad anti cosmetic surgery, because of how weird women ultimately end up looking. And I think women are beautiful, all women, old or young, just as they are. So now I’m wondering. It’s all just the same really. To stop the sag of life. In my case caused by childbirth, a lifetime on my feet and hastened by chemotherapy. You’ve just got to love how cancer is a gift that just keeps giving. I do try to embrace the passing of time and relish every little moment, punctuated by gratitude, but the last couple of days have been delightfully challenging. Those who know me well, know that I have privacy issues when it comes to that area of my anatomy. We all do, but it seems me more than most. Well, clearly no longer. And to be honest, do with me what you will, the knowledge that nothing sinister was lurking, made it all worthwhile. So, to anyone contemplating any form of surgery to rectify the sag, I say, go for it.

warrior woman

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I met a wonderful friend of a friend of mine yesterday. I can’t stop thinking about her. You see she is a warrior woman. A gentle tenacious bright funny warrior woman, who has a brain tumour and was given 14 months to live. She was told the doctors could do no more for her. So she pursued her own path. She is currently on 27 months and counting. She has been dealt many blows by life yet is positive, witty and real.  She is self effacing and humble. She is an inspiration and she is my fear. Was my fear. You see she also had breast cancer and a mastectomy and chemo and all the stuff they scare you into having to make sure you are here five years later.  She made her five years and had just decided against a big celebration of life party when they discovered her brain tumour, a secondary from her breast cancer. I have no doubt the irony did not escape her. That meaningless silly bloody goal of 5 years that we hold like a beacon of hope, living in limbo, counting the years, months, weeks and days, definitely even if not obviously, believing that on the stroke of midnight of our last day of being 5 years cancer free, we will finally be set free. Free from cancer. Free from fear. And whilst I booted fear a while back, meeting her made me face it for real. She gave me goosebumps and her matter of fact retelling of her tale reduced me to tears. But not for me, but for the wonderful inspiring human being I was graced to be in the company of. I would be proud to be her. I am honoured to have a daughter named Kate just like her. May she grow to be just like the warrior woman I met yesterday. Strong and present and true.