Think Pink

Audrey

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don't mind and those who mind don't matter". -Dr.Seuss

I remember Audrey. Lover of dogs and her children. Fiercely, brilliantly, vibrantly herself. You are missed.

Isn't She Lovely?

Aren't we all?

*larger pics can be found at Flickr*

More Than Just Ok

So..how does one start the day on your 10 year cancerversary? Well I leaped out of bed at 7:15 because I thought "oh there's the garbage truck.... OH CRAP MY CAN IS IN THE GARAGE!!!!!"  Leaping out of bed, I donned appropriate outdoor clothing and ran for the garage.  But when I got there, Craig had already taken care of it.  He's good that way--I plan to keep him. 

Funnily enough, that's probably almost the same way I started my day 10 years ago.  I got up.  I got dressed and went to work (lest you ask--PS teacher at the local high school).  No doubt while I was there some random hall monitor asked to see my hallpass, because yes, I looked just that young.  The day was filled with normal things that transpired the normal way because unlike the garbage truck, you don't usually know calamity is coming before it knocks you out of the water.  I find it amusing now that I don't remember one single thing about that day until *the* moment when things started to go very wrong.

The thing about cancer is for a long time people will ask you, "But you're ok now, right?"  Honestly, when you non-cancers aren't listening, we survivors vent about it to each other.  Because what people don't know is that having cancer does to your life what too much stretching does to a rubber band--it just never goes back to the way it was.  It's just...different.  Forever.  Irrevocably.  And it takes far longer than anyone would imagine to pull all the pieces into a semblance of order after a blow like that.  It takes even longer to really find yourself, long after "the crancer" dust has settled for everyone else.

So it's been 10 years and now I want to say: I'm more than ok.

Each day I wake up next to the most amazing person I know, and I spend my day with three other amazing people in the making.  I do ordinary things in ordinary ways and am touched my an amazing array of women daily, most of whom don't even realize how incredible they are. It's hard to be just "ok" when you are surrounded by the miraculous, the inspiring, the amazing.  Life rises to meet the level of what you put into it.  Choose the mediocre--and it will simply be ok. If you want more than ok, you have to take the time to separate the chaff from the grain, and don't be fooled, usually the chaff looks the prettiest, and is hollow.  Look for what is excellent.  Embrace it. LIVE IT. 

And to those of you who read this and think "oh she doesn't mean me.  I'm just me." I mean you.  YOU are part of the excellence in my life.  Thank you for inspiring me to be more than just ok.

(I got's a little present for you if you click to read more.)

Arrivals and Departures

It was a beautiful day.  It seemed that even nature joined in to take part in the memories, providing a day that is unforgettable.  Family and friends gathered.  Hugs, kisses, rememberances, photos and stories were shared.  Kids ran, cried, napped, played tag, and pondered on the significance of the situation which was just beyond their comprehension.  There were elegant flowers, laughter and even tears.  It was a beautiful day.

It's amazing to me that for different people reading this paragraph two completely juxtaposedevents will come to mind.  Saturday afternoon our good friend Jamie was married.  Friday afternoon my sistah Lisa was laid to rest.  Isn't it amazing that a few words can describe either situation?

My husband preached a series on arrivals and departures to the youth, and it seems to weave so well with the thoughts that are in my head and heart lately.  When I flew to Dallas a few weeks ago, I was so excited. I couldn't wait to get there and see my friends and hug them tight, but when it came time to drop me off at the airport my girls cried and hugged me tightly.  I was sad to leave them, but so very excited about what lay ahead of me, and I knew that in no time at all I would be returning to them.  We can't get to someplace new without leaving something or someone behind (thanks for that quote, honey).  Sometimes the departure is harder or longer than others.   Kissing my kids goodbye for a weekend was easy, hugging my friends goodbye was so much harder because I don't know when I will be granted the opportunity to see them again.  Arrivals and Departures.  Each ending brings a new beginning, and each beginning must bring something old to a close.

There are so many things I don't begin to understand.  I stopped having survivor guilt because in my mind it is a waste of precious time.  I know that there is design and purpose, but even if I were to be allowed a glimpse of the blueprints, I couldn't begin to comprehend them.  I am given to know all I need, and the rest is simply arrivals and departures to adventures in which I am not yet written.  Please don't think me callous in my statements, knowing these facts in my head isn't always, or even often, enough to stop the hurt cause by departures, but I can't waste time wondering why my departure was delayed for a time or I miss out on the chance to enjoy my "weekend away" on this earth. 

Weddings and Funerals

Arrivals and Departures

Beginnings and Endings

We don't always know what our itnerary will hold, so we need to pack in all the life, all the love, all the laughter we can into everyday.  Enjoy every moment of this leg of your journey, but don't be afraid of the departure, because the arrival, oh the glorious arrival, is beyond anything imaginable.  I love this life, my life.  It is wonderful, glorious, miraculous, but it is not permanent. It never was. There is a departure date.  While I'm not packed (why bother?), I am ready for that day too.  I pray the same for you.

Just Getting Started

  It seems that I am always telling stories.  Stories about me.  Stories about my family.  Stories about life in general.  I love telling them, and what I most enjoy is when I get to retell a story over and over again.  This week I had the distinct priviledge of telling some of my stories, and some of my more random thoughts, to an author who wanted to interview me.  In the midst of my story-telling, I remembered a moment which I rarely speak of, but which has always been quite precious to me.

Valentines Day, aside from being a good excuse for some extra vigorous bouts of kissing, has always been a special day for us.  It is the day of our first date.  A year later, it marks the day of our engagement.  Nine years ago it was the day I completed cancer treatment.  Add these to the fact that I am a spoiled rotten princess, and you know it's going to be a sappy, sentimental time of year.  That suits me just fine, because I am a sappy, sentimental type of girl. 

Hunky Hubby and I always like to look back on the days of our first dates and talk about who we were then verses who we are now.  We truly have come so far, and by routes that I never would have guessed.  I still find it hard sometimes to believe that we ARE these grown-up people, with children depending on us, and other adults depending on us, and bills to pay, and a mortgage to meet and all the hum-drum cares of everyday life trying to quash the romance out of our existence.  Sometimes it wins, but more often it stays kindled in my heart due to one very precious memory.

I have always been blessed with a very romantic husband.  From the beginning he swept me off my feet with italian poetry and candle light dinners, and he still manages to out-do himself on a regular basis.  That's nice, and I do love it.  But romance isn't what makes a marriage thrive. It's easy to buy flowers and jewelry.  It's not so easy to look fear in the face and stick around. It's not easy to put all your hopes and love and dreams in one basket only to realize how tenuous life really is.  I have many, many wonderful memories treasured up over the years, but one stands out above all the rest.

I remember a man, hardly more than a boy really, standing in the door of an apartment on what was quite possibly the worst day of our lives, certainly, the worst day of our young marriage.  I can see him, standing there with tears in his eyes, and I can hear him in a thick voice saying, "You can't go anywhere, yet.  We just got started."

And that moment, defined the rest of my marriage for me.  Because that is when I knew that no matter what life threw at us, my husband intended to live every moment of it with me.  He didn't intend to have anything happen ever that was not in some way inextricably twined with my life as well.  He could have chosen to walk away from what was to come, because back then, we didn't know that there were another ten years to be had by us, and with grace, another forty or fifty still to be lived together.  But he didn't do that.  Instead he laid bare everything he had ever hoped for and pleaded with me not to leave him standing there with a whole life of adventure unfulfilled.

You can't buy that kind of love in a store, not on Valentines day or anyday of the year.  There is no intrinsic value to be placed on that kind of love, it is invaluable and irreplacable.  I may receive a thousand more gifts in our life time together, but nothing could top the value of that moment. 

I'm not going anywhere.  And I can't wait to get started!

Vidi, Vini, Owie

we came:

we saw:

we got tattoos:

The Voice of Truth

This is a true story.

All the pictures you see here are of real women.  It's their story, and the pictures are real. They are the women I love.  The women who embody courage and beauty and grace and honor.  They are heroes, every one.

You can view them with the musical accompaniment by opening the album in a separate window.

See you Monday.

The Voice of Truth

Walking

On Saturday, June 18th I will be walking in the St. Louis Race for the Cure.

I would be Honored to walk in honor of, or in memory of you or a loved one.  If there is someone you know that has been touched by breast cancer, please let me know by e-mail or in the comments.  I will proudly wear their name and carry their memory or their story with me.

The Gift

For the rest of my life, I will walk half the length of a football field. There is a life time in those 50 yards. All my hopes, dreams, fears, with every step I take I trample them into the ground. I am at one end, and he, the man who promised for better and for worse, stands at the other. I know, and he does not. If I don’t go to him, do I get to keep my life? Do I get to pretend that 15 minutes ago everything I knew to be true didn’t change with 4 four short words?

Promise Fulfilled

Have you ever waited so long to hear something, but never really expected that it would happen?  And then, when it finally did happen it was so shocking and so unutterably wonderful that you didn't know what to do with it?

My oncologist released me yesterday.

His exact words were "I don't expect that I am ever going to have to be of service to you again."

GLORY!