Two days ago was my dear friend Dee’s birthday – a woman who lives thousands of miles away, yet somehow still finds a way to be here for me at those moments when it’s most important.
Yesterday was Candice‘s birthday, the first birthday she didn’t live to see, and I’m still angry that she’s gone.
In twelve days my little girl turns five.
On April Fools Day, it will be the first anniversary of Michele‘s death; that still feels like the cruelest of cosmic jokes.
In two months, if I manage to get my act together and pass these classes, I will finally graduate with my bachelor’s degree. It took 25 years from the start of the degree, and I stuck with it through several levels of hell, and no small measure of high water. But I’m right here at the end of that road, dammit, and I’m going to finish it.
And today?
Today is my fourth cancerversary. It is the fourth anniversary of the day my world was turned upside-down. It is the anniversary of the first time I really had to grapple with my mortality, with the knowledge that I can’t control how much time I have left. I had to accept the fact that despite my infinite love for my daughter, I could not promise her that I would always be here for her. I had to imagine the possibility of her growing up without a mother.
It took a while for me to let go of the idea of getting back to normal – that doesn’t happen after cancer. Instead, I’m learning to dream new dreams, and take what happened to me and try to make the best of it. I could sit here and mope through the day, feeling sorry for myself, but I haven’t spent any of my cancerversaries that way yet. In fact, last year something magical happened.
Tonight, I will be meeting with other leaders of the local Young Survival Coalition to plan out ways we can help other young women with breast cancer through the year ahead.
Life keeps coming at me from a thousand different directions. It’s a maelstrom of joy and fear, comfort and pain, fun and hard work. It’s exhausting and overwhelming, and often moves me to tears. Maybe that’s how I know I’m really living.
battered bruised scarred tenacious beautiful Inspired by a butterfly.
February was a difficult month. We moved, which is always stressful, and then there was all the homework for school, and all that was compounded by my illness and two hospitalizations during the month. My mom ended up coming out for a couple weeks, and that was a big help. Now, we are completely out of the old place now, and I just have to unpack at the new place. I’ll be tackling that chore at a much slower pace.
In the meantime, I’m feeling much better now, and we love love love our new Seattle neighborhood. We’ve had a blast spending the last few days exploring. Now that we survived the move, I can see that this new place will be a good change for us. We’ve already made a few new friends 🙂
We are moving. We found a place we love in a neighborhood we love and two blocks from a school that seems like it will be perfect for Gem. We signed the lease a few days ago, and we move in a few weeks.
Now comes the hard part.
The new home we have chosen is small. Tiny. Less than 3/4 the size of our already small apartment. That means that rather than just packing up, every single item we own will have to be considered, judged, and a large portion of them will not be accompanying us in this move. Will the Christmas tree travel with us to our new home? If so, where will it live the other 11 months of the year? We have a total of 2.5 small closets with which to work.
This will be a learning curve.
I’ve been enjoying a number of posts on the tiny house movement; perhaps we could talk the landlord into allowing us to make some modifications to make better use of the space.
In the meantime, Gem is getting excited about the move.
Her jaguar is all packed up and ready to go.
She’s been helping with our packing, as well. If something is missing, there’s a good chance she already packed it for us.
We were weary as we pulled into the parking lot of our building after a long day of apartment hunting. It’s tiring work, and a bit nerve-wracking, looking for a new place to call home, one that meets our needs, is close to a good school, and most importantly, one that we can afford. We sat there in the car, waiting for this song to finish, and we knew… We knew that wherever we end up, we’ll be okay as long as we’re together.
We didn’t realize it till later, but that night was the 10th anniversary of the day Aaron proposed. He proposed on Alki Beach on a very chilly night, and later we had to hunt down a pay phone (remember those?) so I could call my parents.
It’s a decade later, and some major twists and turns along the way, but we’re happier than ever. So much love.
It’s not that she wont sleep, she just wont sleep in a bed. She’s not a fan of bed time.
This isn’t a new thing, it started as soon as she graduated from crib to toddler bed. I went to get her up one morning and she wasn’t in her bed. I scrambled around everywhere, and then found her snuggled up under her bed.
My heart still races when I check on her and she’s not in bed, but I know to look for her before I get too worried.
I’ve learned to look for little feet sticking out from under things
Lately, she’s taken to sleeping in her toy box. The first time, it took me a while to find her, I had to listen for the sound of her breathing.
A couple nights later, I found her in her toy box again. This time curled up with a kid’s cook book.
Yes, she drags that moose around with her a lot – maybe I should look for the moose first when I’m looking for her.
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.