It's been three months since I said I'd be back writing and laughing. But sadly, I was unable to keep my word. As I grow older, I realize that the push and pull of everyday life takes it's toll and hinders. An excuse to some, but a disappointing realism.
A husband's work abroad; a daughter's awakening to marriage and motherhood; a son-in-law to fatherhood and duty station change, and sons--one still in school dreaming of finishing and the other daring to succeed with honors in a flagging economy. Add to the mix parents who drive me crazy and a mother-in-law who decides to move back --if you can believe it--to snow bunny hell Pennsylvania from warm, sunny North Carolina. Pulling up the rear is my own demon, the dreaded six month cancer reassessments.
Now in my third year since being diagnosed, treated, and told I'm cured, there is only but a shadow of peace. Anxiety rears it's ugly head like hurricane force winds threatening the Cape Hatteras coast. I don't think it's possible to ever be truly free. The urge to look over my shoulder is too great, and then there is that dreaded conversation ...
"Hey, that lymph node feels funny."
"No it doesn't. It's fine."
"But, I'm not sleeping well, and my energy level sucks."
"That's because you're lazy. Yoga's not enough. You got to get back on that bike dumb ass."
"Do you think the cancer's back?"
"No, you ninny. You're just paranoid."
But what is true even with the anxiety and the dreaded conversation playing over-and-over again in my head, is that I wouldn't change a thing, not even the cancer because it's what made me who I am today. Being told you might die gives you the opportunity to breath deep the life you have left. I find myself searching out people who make me laugh--my spouse, my children, my friends--the special ones near and far, and even strangers. Conversations and repartee; quirky smiles and silent signals; humor gives us the voice needed to fight what life throws at us and so, I will continue living, loving, and laughing while making the best damn lemonade from life's all to frequent lemons.
