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Winning the Cancer Race

23 Jan

Anna, Eden, and Elisabeth, after the Run Hit Wonder in Portland, circa 2005-6.

Friendship isn’t about whom you have known the longest.

It’s about who came and never left your side.

 – author unknown.  

(Heck no, I didn’t run.  Come on… someone had to hold the purses and take the pictures.  And if it gave me time for a latte and beignet, well, Win Win.)

These girls are my tribe.  Anna, pictured on left here and on the right in my banner photo (Italy 2003), is now battling brain cancer.  In an effort to raise funds for her treatment, I began a new blog for her called MY CANCER HAT.  It will be a group effort of friends and family to post regularly and keep you updated as to her progress.  

If you think you can’t help, please consider donating something small, even just the cost of the aforementioned latte, as it all adds up.  We are very grateful…

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On Attitude and Abba, Part 2

19 Nov

Tools, hard work, and thoughts of spring.

Or…

Here I go again, on my own.  (Sing it White Snake!)

Since last we chatted, a Storm O Change hit our wee household.

1.  I lost my job.  Back in January, I cut my schedule back so I could spend a bit more time writing.  And, from the comfortable chair of the fully employed, I wished aloud that I didn’t work at all.  I even queued up a little ABBA as a rally cry.  

In September, I got my wish.  At first, I was jubilant and spun in my chair a few times after my supervisor explained they didn’t have enough work to keep me on.  The doctor’s office bought into voice recognition and I was sent to the unemployment line (sounds more dramatic than the unemployment website).  I called JP, super excited that I was FREE.  It was a Friday.  By Saturday, I was a sobbing heap.  On Sunday, I was stoic.  Monday and Tuesday repeated Saturday, Wednesday was Sunday.  Repeat.  You get the idea.  Oh, and now I have an opportunity to really write.  Hello, new novel idea.  Also, hello, put my money where my mouth is…

2.  What started with an unexpected and scary seizure in my dear friend, A, turned out to be brain cancer.  A is pictured above in the banner on the right, brown hair piled up.  In that photo, you see my last perm, E in her adorable braids, and A telling us something terribly serious… probably where next we’d buy a gelato cone.  It was Manarola, Italy, and we were mid Big Girls Trip to Europe, circa 2003.  A and E have been friends since birth, literally, and I joined the gang in high school.  A is currently under radiation treatment, to be followed by chemo.  She’s fighting.  She’s lost her hair.  And she’s exhausted. But I repeat, she’s fighting.  I’d do just about anything if we could do some of the fighting for her… 

3.  My nephew, age 22, moved in with JP and I.  We are now two hungry dudes, one cooking gal, and two hungry kitties.  Shweew.  He needs a new start in life, having spent 1.5 years in jail.  It’s us or the streets, and that simply isn’t happening on my watch.

SO, what’s the photo got to do with anything?  When digging out a patch of weeds recently, I unearthed not one tulip bulb, but about 100.  I’m not sure what they all are exactly, but I’ve cleaned out the rose bush patch of weeds and dead roses, and I’m planting bulbs for the first time.

It’s hard work, hope, and looking forward.  Or, time to pull up my big girl pants.  That about sums it up.

Many thanks to those who have wondered where I’ve been.  I hope to be checking in much more often…

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Dedicated to All the Working Moms

17 May

“It was a dark and stormy night.”  

It really was!  I was in second grade.   My little sister and I bundled up in blankets together on the couch, too afraid to go to our shared bedroom.  Gale winds of about 60 mph roared outside.  From the toy corner, our Lite Brite flashed my house and tree design anytime the electricity flickered.  I freaked me out and I ran into the kitchen to find my mom.  She was leaning against the counter, studying a thick book by the flickering light of our gas burning stove.  She poured me a glass of milk and unplugged the sinister toy.

The next day, we learned that a neighbor in our trailer park lost the roof to her home.  We found the door to our hot water heater in our side yard.  Mom, studier by flame and braver of other-worldly Lite Brites, got out her toolbox and screwed it back into place.  

A year later, she landed a teaching job in Oregon and us three girls moved.

Today, Donna Summer died.  And I’m so sad.  ”She Works Hard for the Money” always reminds me of that night and I always sing it at the top of my lungs.  

This one goes out, not just to my mom, but to all the working moms out there.  

  • To my mother-in-law, Karen, who works as a surgical nurse.  When JP was in grade school, she had to move away from her husband and two sons to find work.  She called home every other night to talk to her boys.  Six months later they were all reunited.  When I asked how she did it, she said she refused to cry on the phone, but after she hung up, that was another story.
  • To my friend, Ali, who put herself through technical school right after having her son.  Her husband’s construction company suffered from the economy and she worked during naps and at night to make ends meet, even when they had to rent out their house and move in with her mother. They are now back in their own home.
  • To my friend, Amy, whose husband lost his job.  He’s now working again, but at a severely reduced wage.  They downsized to an apartment and she went from part-time work to learning a new human resources job and putting in overtime, with three teenagers at home.  Her oldest son just won a full scholarship to ASU.
  • And to my friend, Amber, whose husband also lost his job.  She lost hers just a few months later, right after having her baby.  He’s now back to work, as well, but also at reduced wages.  And while she looks for work, she’s nearly finished her first novel and is building a photography business.

Ladies, this one is for you!  (Check out the dancing conductor.)

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