Happy Birthday, Daddy!!

I have had a very deep and restorative sleep, albeit short. I am up to wish my dad a HAPPY eighty-first birthday!!! I'm here to start the celebration early.

In a few short hours I will be sliding off under anesthesia to converse with angels and be kept company by the saints, while my medical team works it's wonders to rid my body of it's intruder, this cancer.

I anticipate that calling my dad and singing "Happy Birthday" to him, to be one of the sweetest presents he's ever recieved..... what with the calibar of my vocal prowess. Teeheee.

Cancer. Again. What's that all about? "CANCER, THE SEQUEL" the title I'm using for this chapter of my life. It makes me laugh. So there, take that cancer, I'm laughing at you!!

These past 10 days have been a whirlwind. A tilt-o-whirl of emotion, energy, enthusiasm and emptiness.... calvacading one right after the other. Cancer, a second time? What incorrect memo has my body received?? Again?? How are these rogue cells getting organized?? Again???

Last night right after Sarah and the grand-peeps left, I started sobbing over a commercial for a sleep magic mattress. The thought that it comes with a DVD for clarification had me weeping. Then my tears turned to that howling laughter of the institutionalized. All in a nano-second.

What I know. What I've learned. What I am realizing (in no order what-so-ever.)

1. When I have to tell people, my heart actually aches at their response & sorrow for me.
2. Yesterday, I got an invitation to present in Utah next summer: divine timing. I love having something to look forward to. Just got an invite to be involved in something thrilling in Texas next summer as well. (I think this infers I'll be 'wonderful' by summer.)
3. When people say "I'm sorry" I feel a wave of revulsion. It sounds like pity to me. My art friend offered his brother's line to say in response to the I'm sorry-ers: "That's ok, I don't hold you personally responsible." Just having that thought in my head adds some relief to the situation.
4. Family means everything as you sit awaiting the surgeon's arrival.
5. The community of Facebook and BCO friends have kept my tether to sanity, when I let it go periodically. Apparently, when you have given to others they are willing to give to you in return.
6. My friend showed me her surgical scar in the Sheraton elevator, because that's where we were when the conversation led us to that unveiling. We laughed about security cameras, but neither one of us batted an eye over her scar.
7. Laughter is absolutely the best medicine. I've received some pretty hilarious email and for that I am grateful. The best sort of laughter is that generated genuinely by a child. In the last 10 days I have studied the laughter of children and joined in with them, at every opportunity.
8. My two daughters and their husbands bring my life solidity. My two step-sons are like icing on the cake. My daughter-in-law is such a peach. She lets me cry & babble and knows that I am fine, the whole time. My sister, my neices & nephews, my brothers..... my cousins, well you get the idea. My parents. My husband is indeed the foundation. My rock. He keeps me safe -- even against rogue cells. He says amazing things like, "We're in this together." Which is one of my favorites. "I love you for what's inside, not for what's on the outside, silly." He sits next to me on the loveseat and doesn't say a thing, when I just need him to be near me.
9. I have all the faith in the world that the next chapter that unfolds will be the very best.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!! Be sure you hold up mommie today. She'll need to borrow some of your strength and courage. I'm so glad that you're both healthy and in sunny Florida. I'll call and sing later this morning. That's the plan!

Strength and courage.
Strength and courage.
Strength and courage.

Wait till you see the pictures from Louisiana!! You'll just have to be patient.