A Milestone if Not a True Anniversary

Easter weekend of last year was when I got my diagnosis. I spent that Saturday with my family in a state of total shock hearing about cancer, surgery, chemo, chances of survival. We all were waiting to wake up from the nightmare. I don't feel quite like that anymore. I'm not waiting to wake up anymore.

Last Easter was supposed to be the first family gathering at a holiday since we moved to CT. And it was, and the pictures show us holding it together and going through the holiday traditions. But I remember a devastating weekend and the new life I hadn't fantasized about when imagining my future. Moving closer and sharing holidays with my parents and my sister, Yes, dealing with a cancer diagnosis, not so much.

This Easter we went to Long Island for the family gathering. The Webbs went on Saturday and Cawleys joined us on Sunday for a big meal and an egg hunt. The kids had a blast. The contrast for me was pretty great. I have it in my head as a big deal to hit Easter. And although the regular calendar anniversary will be April 7, this weekend was a significant marker. Emotions are simmering just below a boil and the test last week… a lot of things are in the mix and I'm feeling vulnerable, sensitive.

While some may think that I have been through hell and back, I have been thinking on this. What really happened is that my old life went away and I'm not sure I am "back". It got pushed aside or overrun by this new way of being. The language of chemo and radiation and surgical procedures entered the picture. This "new" life was not in my play-book. Not by a long shot. So any of us who face a life altering event; a diagnosis, a death, whatever it is, one isn't harder than the other. The net result is that an evolution has to take place. Draw on the good things from the previous life and weave them into the best parts of today for the life ahead. Learn. Evolve. Continue even stronger. Even bolder. Even better.

And help me (and each other) stand up on the days when the evolution is a challenge. I can type a good game, but it doesn't always feel "bolder". Sometimes it feels like too much of a definition or label. This should not be my defining moment. Becoming a mom could be. Many things could be, but I'd like cancer to be as significant as a bout of the Flu. That's how much credit I want cancer to get in my definition.

When will it fade to the background and let the rest of me stand in front again? How do I let it? Is it even me that has to let it go? Can I let it go like a balloon - just float away to the sky? Or do I have to spend time on a therapists couch to release it? Read some spiritual books? Be on Oprah? or start a foundation… what exactly will it take to let it go?

Work on that and get back to me. The suggestion box is deep.