Monday, June 14, 2010

Rain Rain Rain

The worst thing about fear is what it does to you when you try to hide it.  Nicholas Christopher

Hello and thank u who wrote a little poem that ended with rain, rain, rain.  I don't know how to display your comments better, some of them come in on old posts, so unless you go back in to those, you would not know about some of the amazing things coming back to me.

Graduated members of my new sorority are coming, thank u for the tips, and thank u for the hope.  Barbara, 6 year survivor of colon cancer, thank u. You made me cry tonight, joyful I resonated with u, hopeful to hear you made it out of this place.  Thank u so very much.

Rain rain rain.  It was raining in here today, even though the skies outside my bedroom were clear.  I was tired today, a lifeless tired, and sad.  very very sad.

I usually go to get my shot very early in the day to get it over with.  Today I didn't make it till late in the day.  When I arrived Lady Grace greeted me "Honey, they been looking for you and asking for you today. Go ahead back, they are waiting for you."

I walked back, Vonda was behind the counter.  She looked at me with relief.  "Where you been all day girl?"

We hugged.  She lead me into the exam room, and scampered off to find the smallest needle possible, cause that's how she rolls for me.

I sat down and started to cry.  I don't know why, I guess I do, it was a rough day, and I was tired, and I didn't feel good, and I was sad, and I need my Mommy, and Vonda is my girl.

I felt like a five year old waiting in the chair, I tried to wipe my eyes.  I didn't want her to see.  I am always funny when I come in.  I don't cry.  I put my shades back on.  It didn't work.

"Girl where you been all day, I've been looking for you..." and she saw my tears.

Here I am.  Here I am.  Feeling so small and sad today.  Here I am.

She does not know my mom died of cancer too.  My mom died of renal cell cancer at the age of 46.

I am motherless just like you Vonda.

Vonda shocked me today, she has only worked at the cancer center since March of this year, just a month before my diagnosis.  The way that girl walks around there, I thought she had been there for years.

She said "I will help you get through this, and you are helping me get through this.  I am new to this.  I am not good with change. We will help each other."

Yes girlfriend, yes, we are helping each other get through this.  Motherless.

Most nights when I write, Robin, the twelve year old, wanders in and plops down on my bed and hovers over me as I try to write.  He is almost pesty except for the fact that he is so cute.

"Honey, you know I can't write with you here..." I whine.

"What, am I invading your little bubble?" he says, pantomiming the dome over me, looking a little hurt.

This morning, as he ate his breakfast half asleep, sitting close to me, I started to talk and he says "You are invading my waffle bubble lady."


I am on a journey I did not plan and you can't look it up on Tripadvisor, or check out where to go and not go on Yelp.  I was drafted.  I was unwilling.  I am still surrendering to this plan for me.  Some days far more willing and noble.

Not so much today.

There is still a part of me waiting for someone to come get me.

Rescue me.

Take me from here.

No one is coming.

I know this but I don't have to like it.

May I honor my confusions as my path.

I pray that when I am most lost, a gift will be placed in your hand.

Love your life.


masonmft said...

We are coming. We just can't figure out how to take you away so we join you. Tonight with tears and other times with laughter. Love you!

Toni said...

Hi Deb! I am a friend of Kim C. and have been reading your blog for about a week now. She shared part of it at our Relay For Life meeting, and I was so touched. Now, even though we have never met, I feel like I know you. Thank you for sharing your journey. You have touched people that you will probably never meet. In my opinion that makes you very special!

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