Saturday, December 27, 2008

Dance Like You Mean It


I’ve always thought age is just a number, insignificant but for it’s measure of another leg of life’s journey. I am amazed that people worry constantly about getting older and can't imagine a time when physical reality will catch me. I still dream of the future and dance my way through life. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a ballerina, a veterinarian and for a brief time, even an astronaut. I'm not any of those things yet I never could have imagined a life as rich as mine. I still enjoy spontaneous dancing to the latest pop music, I like to watch Disney movies, I laugh out loud without abandon when something tickles my funny bone. Even as my body ages, I still feel like the same young woman who met prince Charming, got married and lived happily ever after. I admit I am startled when the young bag boy at the grocery store calls me ma’am or I catch a glimpse of my face in an unflattering light that shows my wrinkles. I have many responsibilities to remind me daily that I’m an adult, but inside I’m still young and free. Perhaps eventually I’ll feel my age, but for now I’m content dancing.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Her Brave Fight



Over the course of the last two years, I have watched my dear friend, Leslie, fight a very aggressive form of breast cancer. It’s ironic because, prior to her diagnosis, I didn’t have any idea of her true inner strength. If I thought she would be a bit wimpy when dealing with pain, I couldn’t have been more wrong!

In a world turned upside down and inside out, she has somehow managed to find the beauty in everyday life, to truly live in the moment and encourage those around her to stop and smell the roses. She lives her life full of grace making all of us around her feel important and loved.

I don’t really know how I feel about all of this, the emotions range from anger to deep sorrow. If she succumbs to this awful disease, the world will somehow seem less bright. There’s a helplessness that comes with watching her struggle through extreme fatigue and sickness. I sometimes feel guilty that I am relatively healthy even though I abuse my body daily. I have come to realize that life is really precious and much too short sometimes.

What can I say about a girl who has it all and gives of herself so freely? Looking back, I now realize that from the first time I met her, she impacted my life in many ways. She was “the social neighbor” who easily threw together lunches that rivaled Martha Stewart. We also shared the bond of being reproductively challenged. When I was blessed to give birth to a little girl, she was the first visitor at the hospital and often rushed home from work to have some baby time at my house. When, a little over a year later, she had a baby girl, we felt so lucky to have our girls and knew they’d be the best of friends. (They are!) Over the years, our friendship bloomed and we helped each other through life’s struggles, often sharing parts of our dinners, carpooling, and talking into the wee hours of the night. As she continued her education, eventually earning her PhD, I couldn’t have been more proud. I marveled at her ability to effortlessly juggle her many roles and still make time to be a great friend. Shortly after the birth of her second child, I noticed a slight shift. She seemed to be a bit overwhelmed, I thought I understood. It wasn’t until that spring that she first mentioned the lump. I knew she was scared, I was too.

Initially, it seemed that she would undergo some harsh chemo, have a mastectomy and a little radiation, then life would return to normal. I’ve since learned not to trust the best laid plans. She has been on a non-stop roller coaster ride. The latest hill may very well be her last as the disease has now invaded her beautiful brain. Even as she faces the truth of her situation bravely, I don’t see sadness in her eyes. She just wants a little more time on this earth, she still has much to do.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Not Yet a Man


As is always part of my bedtime routine, I let the dog out, got a glass of water, headed upstairs pausing briefly at the door of my sleeping princess. Her beauty never fails to stop my breath for just a minute. I often think I don’t deserve this kind of happiness, then realize life will never be sweeter than it is right now. I also checked in on my sweet son. For some strange reason, I found myself frozen at the side of his bed gazing down on his peaceful sleeping face.

He was in the really deep part of his nightly doze and made some sweet snurggling noises, rubbed his nose and said something I couldn’t understand. I stood there for at least 5 minutes watching him sleep and wondering what he was dreaming of, possibly the awesome 3 point basket he made in the game that afternoon or was it a girl? As often happens lately, I was struck by the realization that he is no longer a little boy, but not yet a man. It’s a somewhat bittersweet emotion that fills me with both wonder and dread. I wonder at the fact that out of all the millions of little boys in the world, I somehow lucked out and got him and dread the day when he will move out of my house and start his own life. I wish I could somehow freeze time, if only for a little while and stay right where we are in our happy cocoon.

At least for the moment, he still likes to hang out with me, unless one of his buddies calls and a better offer comes along. I savor our time together, grasping to hang on and get inside his head. We’ve enjoyed some conversations lately that give me glimpses of the world through his eyes. When he was little, he thought I was pretty smart, funny and the most beautiful girl he knew. I am fortunate to still hold at least mild intelligence, I can be humorous and he doesn’t rate me as gross, however, I am realistic enough to know that time is fleeting and I’m slowly being replaced. I have so much work left to do! I am still shaping him into the man he’ll someday be.

He’s very thoughtful, polite, compassionate towards his peers and trying to find his niche in the world. I have a pretty good idea of what he likes and dislikes, I also know that he dreams of playing for the Cubs someday. I want him to find true happiness. I want him to be honest. I want him to face challenges head on. Mostly, I want him to like himself.

He is quickly growing into a fine young man with a heart as tender and pure as anyone I’ve ever known. I fight the urge to hold him close and shut out the rest of the world, knowing that it’s my job to give him wings and love him unconditionally as he maneuvers his way through the world. With a gentle kiss on the cheek and a re-tuck I head to bed knowing that for now, all is well.