I have the long awaited follow up post about my journey with Dad nearly ready to go. Though not quite finished. It lives in a spiral notebook, sloppy script, words crossed out, waiting for its ending.
Despite having experienced the journey and enjoying the wedding, writing the ending is not something easily accomplished right now.
That post seems flippant, too quick to take lightly the unbelievable luck I had in being able to make that trip, travel with my dad, see my family, watch my cousin get married. I can’t post that right now because in this moment, I don’t feel that way.
In the past week, I’ve read the words of two bloggers documenting their last days, one from Inflammatory Breast Cancer, the other from Ovarian Cancer. Both ladies were diagnosed in the spring of 2009…like me.
I can’t begin to know what is, or was, going through their minds. I don’t know how they managed to leave their doctors’ offices after being dealt their new, shortened reality. I guess it’s like anything else…get out of the chair, move your feet, open the door, drive home…
I’m so sorry for these ladies, these young mothers having their lives cut short. These women who sat in an office in 2009, as I did, but heard a very different prognosis.
I am not writing now out of survivor’s guilt. It’s sadness. It’s anger. It’s a little push back into advocacy and a renewed desire to make sure people everywhere know what a crock pink fundraising is.
I’m writing with a mission to get everyone to sign up with Love/Avon Army of Women so researchers can learn the causes of Breast Cancer in order to understand how to prevent it.
I’m writing to say Ovarian Cancer is real and deadly, though it does leave some signs if we only know to look.
And finally, I’m writing to remind myself to appreciate the good stuff, even the not so good stuff, because it can all go away in an instant, blown by the winds leaving nothing, but words hanging in the air.
My thoughts and prayers go to Ashley’s family. I did not know her as she wrote her final words on Ashley: Warrior Mom. My thoughts and prayers go to Tina whom I followed at Tina’s Journey, almost since I started blogging. I didn’t see it ending this way.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I rarely write directly, as I am now, on my blog. I almost always write in a notebook and then revise, revise, revise in search of the perfect sentence, tone, whatever, but today, at this moment I needed to share the emotion I sense building up. The whole reason I write to begin with. I may regret it tomorrow, but for now I feel better for sharing.
I love our blogging community. I hate cancer.