I’ve spent the past month helping Mom move out of her apartment. Through that process I’ve been taking a moment to scan photographs before packing the pictures to ship. OK, I’ve been taking a little more than a moment to preserve the photos, but it’s well worth the time investment. I love having these photos digitized, and accessible to the family on Flickr.
I made a point of setting aside these photos of my dad from his tour of duty in Vietnam in 1968-69, so I could put them up for today’s Memorial Day post.
Michael H. Schwartz
Bronze Star, Vietnam War
Thank you Dad, and Grandad, Aaron, Alex, David, and everyone else that served.
Shortly after we were engaged, Aaron and I went to dinner with some friends. We got to talking about my family, so I pulled this picture of my dad and brothers from my wallet. Lars looked at the picture a moment, then set it down on the table while backing away a bit.
He turned to my husband and said, “Dude, whatever you do, don’t piss her off.”
I guess it’s time for another update on the whole kicking-cancer’s-ass and getting-on-with-my-life situation.
Let me e’splain.
No, there’s too much. Let me sum up.
The Ugly
I finished up the radiation treatments and my skin is feeling much better, although it still looks dirty and scaly in a big square-shaped patch across my chest and collarbone. It’s not too much of a problem, although I look like I missed a spot while bathing if I wear a v-neck, or anything with a lower than crew-neck collar. That’s all fine though, and it will fade with time.
I just have a handful of Herceptin treatments left, and I’m done with scheduled treatment altogether! And my hair has grown back enough for me to have bad hair days frequently! Anna, I’ll be giving you a call soon so you can whip my poor confused locks into shape.
My lymphedema is not really under control, so I’m going to have to get (even more) serious about dealing with that, and find some time (and $) for more physical therapy treatments. The swelling isn’t too bad at the moment, but the pain is getting worse, and it makes my right arm essentially useless, even for little things like writing more than a couple sentences by hand. One of the best things I can do for my arm is not lift heavy things, but more on that later. I’ll also need more lymphedema sleeves and gloves (very pricey) as mine are getting stretched out and not snapping back into shape anymore.
The Bad
The side effect that is having the biggest impact on my life right now is fatigue. It just seems like it should have lifted a bit by now, but it keeps getting worse. Part of the problem: I went back to school full time in January, and that may have been a bit too soon. I was determined, and I decided that cancer had sidelined my life long enough. So back I went. Full time. Why? Because I hadn’t been challenged enough lately? That semester kicked my ass, and by the time it was over, I felt like I just wanted to sleep for a month. (I did manage to pass all my classes, but I have never in my life been so happy to get a C.)
But no rest for me.
Aaron graduates with his Master’s Degree at the end of this quarter (that part isn’t bad, in fact it’s awesome!!), which means we need to be out of the school provided apartment, and get one of our own. So house hunting commences. And packing. And job hunting. And how do you get an apartment when you don’t have a job yet?
Also.
Mom is moving back to Alaska to live with my brother, and somebody has to pack up her apartment (hi). She wants to be completely out of her apartment by next week, then she will live with us a couple weeks until we hit the road to drive to Alaska.
The Good
Did you catch that “WE hit the road” part? Yeah, Gem and I are driving up to Alaska with mom! So Aaron can finish classes (teaching AND as a student), hunt for an apartment if we haven’t found one yet, hunt for a job, and finish packing up the house while the baby and I are on vacation. Then we’ll move into the new place as soon as we get back, just a few days before our vacate deadline for this apartment.
I’m really excited about this trip, and I have so many old friends in Alaska that I dearly miss and can’t wait to see again. Most of them haven’t even met my daughter yet. Brace yourself for this blog becoming a bit of a travelogue in the near future. I’ve been known to take a few pictures while on vacation.
The first rule of getting along with other people after you become a parent is don’t brag about your child all the time. Or ever, actually. I break that rule every day. I’m one of those annoying moms – always trotting out the latest cute or amazing thing that my gorgeous little girl did. If I wasn’t your mom, I’d nauseate you. Actually, I’m sure your tweener, teen, and early adult years will be consumed by me nauseating you. It’s in the job description. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.
So here I am, a mommy blogger, discussing rules about how parents shouldn’t brag about their kids all the time. But, again, it’s in the job description. I mean, really, if your mom isn’t utterly amazed by you, over the moon about you, if your mom doesn’t brag about you… who will? I don’t want to follow this train of thought too far, because the sad truth is that some kids don’t, for whatever reason, have someone who really goes to bat for them. Part of me wonders if this is the reason for the previously mentioned rule, but I know better. This rule rests on a much more shallow foundation.
The truth is, bragging moms are annoying.
On the other hand, if there is one place on earth I should be allowed to brag about my darling daughter, it should be on my own blog, in a letter directly to her. Prepare to be annoyed.
To lighten things up a bit, I’m going to limit this letter to bragging about about the adorable things you do imperfectly.
There is nothing that makes my heart smile quite like watching you put your green Hello Kitty rain boots on the wrong feet and dancing around the living room.
You pronounce applesauce and princess exactly the same way (“sausaus”).
I didn’t think you knew any numbers above ten, but last night we were looking at a book, and when we got to page 25, you said “five-twent.” I was sure I heard that wrong, but you turned the page and then said “six-twent.”
At the store the other day we were looking at stuffed animals, and you picked up the rhinoceros and called it a triceratops. How does a 2 year old store a four syllable word about a dinosaur with horn on it’s nose, and retrieve it at the appropriate time? I don’t care if you were wrong about the rhinoceros, I’m just blown away that you were wrong in such a cool way. I could never tell the dinosaurs apart (in fact, I had to go online and look it up), but from now on, I will always remember that the triceratops has a horn like a rhinoceros. See, parents learn things from their kids all the time.
I hope this doesn’t make you feel like you’ve been made fun of. Perfect is boring. It’s also an illusion. You can spend your life chasing perfection, but when it comes down to it, when you take stock of what you really love about someone, what makes your heart swell, generally the imperfections weigh in pretty heavily. That’s not to say you shouldn’t try your best, or try to improve. It means don’t be afraid to fail; don’t be afraid to try something because you won’t be perfect the first time. It means don’t let your stumbles paralyze you. Pick yourself up, and keep dancing, even if your boots are on the wrong feet.
Imperfections make us unique, approachable, and lovable. And you, my darling daughter, are infinitely lovable.
I love you so much,
Mommy
CoffeeJitters is an affiliate to a number of sites and services. I do not endorse products I don't love. I may receive compensation if you purchase items from links on this website.
