What? It’s January?

The holidays must be officially over.  The Christmas things are packed away.  The camels have come and gone.  Even the nativity set is on its way back into the box for another year.  (Although I did leave out a giant silver-tone sign urging PEACE.  Because we could all use a little of that these days.)  The clutter is cleaned up and we’re back to our regular schedule.

I’ve even finished the thank-you notes (yours is in the mail).  But I have a few special thank-yous that I’d like to highlight here on the site, just because they meant to much to me.  Here are some wonderful things that I’ve been sent recently, despite my urging that folks not send things to me, as there are so very many cancer patients and others needing pick-me-ups out there.  But these come from my friends.  My family’s friends.  My tribe.  And it seems wrong not to thank them here as well.

From F.J., a family friend from long ago and far away, a box full of caps from the Mississippi institutions of higher learning that I grew up with and think back on fondly — Ole Miss AND Mississippi State.  JSU AND Alcorn.  USM.  And of course, UMC, the University of Mississippi Medical Center, where I very nearly grew up, spending afternoons in my dad’s office, the library adjacient, and my first job in the biophysics labs upstairs.  I have many, many fond memories of these places and friends who went to those schools.  When the box came, it was like a magician’s top hat in that the caps just kept coming out.  At the bottom was a CD of beautiful music for dancing together in the rain, and a note that made me cry.  In a good way.

From Circle V, my mom’s prayer group at the church I grew up in, three amazing boxes full of love and gifties for me and my family.  A beautiful hand-knit scarf.  An angel ornament for the tree.  Pretty soaps and gentle shampoo and a box that makes me cry (It says “Who else would think of sending a message and wrapping it in swaddling clothes?” — but the best part is the note inside, from my seventh grade sunday school teachers, “God is using your strength to light the path for the rest of us.”  I don’t know how much of that is true, but it comforts me and helps me be strong on days when I am not.  Like today.).

From my church here in D.C., two hand-knit hats from a lovely member of the congregation.

From Robin Elise, a chemo turban from Hats with Heart.  Also a bead on a ribbon from months ago that I keep here by my computer, to remind myself that my “friends inside the computer” are real friends, real people, and that’s wonderful.

From Parent Bloggers, a cool pendant that makes me smile.

From SuzyQathome, my college roommate (well, practically, anyway), an amazing quilt with everything from my college logo to sorority letters to kindergarten happiness on it.  It was made by a cancer survivor and close friend of hers, and it’s an amazing gift that I will cherish always.

From Becky, one of my good friends from graduate school, the book Last Chance To See, which is the only Douglas Adams book I haven’t read (how did she know I’ve always wanted to read it?).

From NYfriend, another good friend from graduate school, a big box of fun and crafts, snacks and games, and much, much love. 

From my neighbor, a music box that Widget and I are endlessly fascinated with.  And from her daughter, much earlier, a pink crystal that I hung in the window by my bed as she suggested, to bring smiles and light in during the days I’m sick in bed.

From Pat, a family friend from the South, the happy hat and beads that I wrote about several weeks ago, the ones that came in the Mississippi State Cheese Box.  Yes, this thank-you note in particular was long overdue.  Too long.  I am embarassed.  And now, thanks to the internet, I am publicly embarassed.

From my friends, the chemo bags that arrived every morning I had chemo without fail during the 6 months of my treatment.

And all my family members who sent yummy things for the boys and for me and WhyDaddy for Christmas and Little Bear’s birthday.  I am constantly amazed by your graciousness and giving, of your time, your energy, your care, and your concern. 

And that of course goes for you guys here on the blog (and now twitter) too.  I am overwhelmed by your company, and I want to thank you for it.  That is my reason for looking forward to surgery today.

– Because I have so much left to do in this world, to begin to try to pay all your love back – or forward.

Tee hee.  Thanks to the comments in the last post, I’m now going to always post the double buttons.  You girls!

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