today i got my first issue of mamalode - i know that i am going to love it.
here is how i know.
as i was looking through it briefly tonight, i saw the word cancer on one page and stopped flipping pages.
it was an article by libby ryder and i immediately read ever word. some words i could totally relate to.
"it wasn't about a grandmother or a friend's cousin. it was me. my body. my chest. my neck. i was the one with cancer. i had been walking around. living my life. nursing my baby. being a mom and a wife and a friend - and cancer was inside me. rapidly growing without my knowledge or permission. it was surreal. numbing, but not dramatic. not for us. there were tears, but just the slow kind that trickled down my face, not the wet streaming king. simple, genuine shock with a million questions and thoughts, but nothing was said. all i knew was someone just told me i had cancer and i had no idea what that meant."
"but i was justin's wife. ava's mom. what did this mean for him? her? our future? i didn't know where to begin."
"would someone else raise her? would she ever know me? that was not something i could say out loud. not yet. it was too shocking. too real. too scary. too many unknowns."
"the instant i was told i had cancer everything changed. the love i thought i had was no more. instead, it became deeper and richer than i ever knew it could."
"i was scared. but mostly i was in "go mode". i did what i had to do and i suprised myself."
"who would raise her like me? instead of being her mom, i could be part of a story someone told her. pictures she looked at. not even a memory, just a story. people would tell her things like, "you have your mommy's lips or her laugh." the mere thought of it broke me."
it is so good to read words you can identify with. helps with healing.
"every one of us is called upon, probably many times, to start a new life. a frightening diagnosis, a marriage, a move, loss of a job...and onwward full tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore. to be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another - that is surely the basic instinct...crying out: high tide! time to move out into the glorious debris. time to take this life for what it is."
(barbara kingsolver, from "high tide in tucson"
+++ gloria - i got the update from mom today about no radiation/chemo - that is awesome news. we are so, so happy. give larry a big hug for us. also, i am making your chex mix on thursday, will eat a couple of big handfuls for you. xo.