Tuesday I was on the beach in Bermuda. I sucked in the sound of the ocean, I soaked in sun and warmth; which I desperately had been missing. I exhaled - a lot.
And my phone beeped at noon.
Like it does every day.
Reminding me to take my cancer pill - for the next 1610 days.
My pills weren’t in hands reach so I didn’t check my reminder to “complete”.
Cancer pill would wait til later.
I closed my eyes and went back to paradise.
And I thought that exactly 365 days ago I was sitting in the hospital reclining chair hooked up to, what was/is hopefully saving me. It was a Tuesday after all.
Chemo day.
I felt my scar where my port was.
No more port!
I pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes.
HAIR! I had hair!
I told DH what I had been thinking.
“It’s in the past”, he said. (Not dismissive -but words of encouragement. Words to remind me to look forward)
It’s kind of easy to look forward when the ocean is waving behind you and the ocean is the bluest blue you’ve ever seen and your toes are deep in the soft pink sand.
But you know, paradise is temporary and at some point you go home.
One of the best parts of vacation to me is how happy and friendly everyone is. People smile a lot. Small talk is made. Our walks are slower. We unplugged more. We bask in whatever it is people bask in. We meet nice couples over a glass of wine and exchanged stories about our dogs and where we should eat tomorrow night as we ooh and aah over the Oreo tempura dessert (please you think I WASN’T going to try that?!)
I VOW to exhale more in my upcoming new decade.
(And as a parent of teen boys you know this is an undertaking)
I realize, though, I can still look forward even without the really nice hotel shower and rum swizzler drinks.(The shower has those little stones on the floor to make your feet feel all spa like)(and rum swizzle drinks taste like- well- like you’re on vacation)
I can still touch my scar and be reminded where I’ve been but to close my eyes when I do that- to picture the paradise- and remember where I CAN go.
That. Is. Everything.
And my phone beeped at noon.
Like it does every day.
Reminding me to take my cancer pill - for the next 1610 days.
My pills weren’t in hands reach so I didn’t check my reminder to “complete”.
Cancer pill would wait til later.
I closed my eyes and went back to paradise.
And I thought that exactly 365 days ago I was sitting in the hospital reclining chair hooked up to, what was/is hopefully saving me. It was a Tuesday after all.
Chemo day.
I felt my scar where my port was.
No more port!
I pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes.
HAIR! I had hair!
I told DH what I had been thinking.
“It’s in the past”, he said. (Not dismissive -but words of encouragement. Words to remind me to look forward)
It’s kind of easy to look forward when the ocean is waving behind you and the ocean is the bluest blue you’ve ever seen and your toes are deep in the soft pink sand.
But you know, paradise is temporary and at some point you go home.
One of the best parts of vacation to me is how happy and friendly everyone is. People smile a lot. Small talk is made. Our walks are slower. We unplugged more. We bask in whatever it is people bask in. We meet nice couples over a glass of wine and exchanged stories about our dogs and where we should eat tomorrow night as we ooh and aah over the Oreo tempura dessert (please you think I WASN’T going to try that?!)
I VOW to exhale more in my upcoming new decade.
(And as a parent of teen boys you know this is an undertaking)
I realize, though, I can still look forward even without the really nice hotel shower and rum swizzler drinks.(The shower has those little stones on the floor to make your feet feel all spa like)(and rum swizzle drinks taste like- well- like you’re on vacation)
I can still touch my scar and be reminded where I’ve been but to close my eyes when I do that- to picture the paradise- and remember where I CAN go.
That. Is. Everything.
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