Little steps

Yesterday, after I wrote that post, I tried to shovel through another day of errands, laundry, and never ending chores, and then I sat down on the floor and played trains with my kids.

It wasn’t much.

It sure wasn’t all they deserved.

But it was the first step toward being grateful again for what I have, not mourning the cancer-free life that I wish I had.

I’ve been angry this week, mourning the loss of so much over the past year, and I thank you (blogfriends and playgroup friends alike) for hanging in there with me as I deal with it.

As my doctor said today, “You were bound to crumble. Everybody crumbles. The difference is, they usually crumble at diagnosis. You didn’t. You were so determined, the day I met you. You dug your heels in and refused to lose this fight. It never had a chance against you. And you beat it. It’s gone. You have kids — let me tell it to you this way. This is just a phase.”

A phase.

Not a sentence.

A phase. I’m going to do my best to grow out of this.

15 Responses to Little steps

  1. hotfessional says:

    Oh honey. We all need to grow out of our phases. You have every right to mourn – and be sad – and be grateful.

    You’ve made the decision to focus on the latter. It can only make your life better, right?

    XXOO

  2. Kayris says:

    I think you have every right to be angry. Your cancer has taken every aspect of your life and turned it upside down. The difference is you got mad…and then you moved on. Like the doctor said, it’s a phase. And like every mom, you know that a phase is appropriate behavior that goes away on it’s own.

    I’ve been reading you for sometime now, and have always been impressed by your quiet strength. If you didn’t have mad or sad days in there somewhere, I’d start to wonder about you.

  3. Stimey says:

    Better to crumble now than then, right? As always, you are amazing.

  4. SuzyQatHome says:

    The kids get the “terrible twos,” I think moms who survive cancer and stay sane get a pass for the next decade. πŸ™‚

    I can’t say I’m surprised – you always stand strong and make it through – it’s only after that you let yourself crumble. (I can remember you being like this at 20ish – I can only imagine having kids makes this tendency even stronger).

    When they told me after the 3rd miscarriage not to get pregnant again I was ANGRY. And I hadn’t been through nearly what you have. Your poem yesterday made me cry (for a really long time:( Unfortunately, I hear from people all the time about how I need a little girl to round out my family of boys.

    Sending empathy and love your way!

  5. tracey says:

    You will, dear. Everyone has pits they sink into, even withOUT having just battled cancer. Give yourself the same break you would give your best friend, were she in the same situation you are.

  6. Your doctor is awesome. And totally right. This IS just a phase. And you will come out of it stronger and more determined than ever before. You are here to LIVE life and to enjoy it!

  7. Robbin says:

    Yes, it is. And remember the thing about statistics.

    We don’t live our life by focusing on how or when it may or may not end. We live it by focusing on each day, one at a time, as hard as we can.

  8. Amelie says:

    You are awsome. And your doc, too. Your poem was very touching, even more so after I seemed to remember that you once wrote you had to write in poems when you were sad.

  9. Susie says:

    I wish I had something brilliant to say – something thoughtful and comforting…
    But I don’t. So I will say this: I hear you. I am sorry.
    Grief is a process – a journey. You cope with it in little bites. One bite at a time.

  10. I haven’t been around for a while. Busy, wrapped in drama after drama (like you, I haven’t shared on my blog) tired, whatever.

    I have just read the last couple of weeks posts in my feed reader. Beautiful girl, you made me laugh and cry and marvel at how much the same we are. I too, clean when stressed and my house is looking pretty darn good. Just came in after tackling the weeds from hell and chopping down a couple of trees and thought, hmmm, might stop in with Susan.

    Love to you my sweetness. You are always in my heart.

    Will raise a glass to you tonight.

  11. liz says:

    i’m no expert, but you’re totally allowed to be angry. i’d be angry, too. you’ve been through too much this year. and your doctor is right: you’re bound to crumble.
    and i say, feel the anger and feel the sadness and feel it all. phase or no phase. i’ve spent a lot of money learning how to Feel It, and i’m here to tell you: it’s easier to feel it and move forward. but i know you know this, too.
    your strength and courage and honesty has really been incredible. i’m not sure i can find the right words to say how much i admire you.

  12. I don’t know about you, but having recently been through my own crisis, I realized I am very used to and thus very good at dealing with catastrophe. I know what to do, in a catastrophe. I know how to fight. I know how to deal. It is the getting back to normal that can be hard, because catastrophe can change how you see and react. So I fear next week LOL, when we go back, and everyone wants to be normal, but inside the landscape is as changed as the outside landscape.

  13. NYfriend says:

    I just wanted you to know that I’m always here to listen. πŸ™‚ Whether is via blog posts, email, phone, letters, whatever is best for you. πŸ™‚

    You’re a remarkably strong woman, you know this, and your strength will see you through this difficult time. And with such strength and determination, come other strong emotions. Intense people are intense in all aspects.

    Big hugs to you.

  14. Becki says:

    This too shall pass. You’ve been through so much, it seems like you deserve only smooth sailing from here on out. And even though you won’t get that (because nobody does), I’m still wishing for the best, most beautiful possible trip for you.

  15. sprucehillfarm says:

    It is ok to crumble! Crumble away! I crumbled last week! Back up for air.

    Hang in there!

%d bloggers like this: