Tag Archive | memories

Today is My 1st Birthday…My Blog’s 1st Birthday, That is!

The twins asked for matching Angry Bird birthday cakes, so I made 6 cakes in a matter of a week.  Two blue, three red, and one yellow Angry Bird.  This was my fave -- a lemon cake, even though I am a chocolate girl!

The twins asked for matching Angry Bird birthday cakes, so I made 6 cakes in a matter of a week. Two blue, three red, and one yellow Angry Bird. This was my fave — a lemon cake, even though I am a chocolate girl!

Yep, today is my first blogoversary!

It has been one year since I first entered the blogosphere.  One year since my very first post, Yep, I’m a Cancer Patient.  One year since I first sent my thoughts out into world for everyone to see.

The thing is, I never expected anyone to see them. I didn’t tell anyone about my blog or where to find it.  So I thought no one would.  I thought this blog would just be an online diary of sorts, a memoir for my kids.

And that’s it.

To this day there are only a handful of people in my offline life who know about it.  I almost said in my “real” life.  But that wouldn’t be fair to you or to my blog.  What you are seeing, what you are reading, is my “real life.” In fact, you, dear reader, have been privy to more of my experiences and thoughts than most people in my “life-life.”

With you I have shared my joys and my sadness. My valleys, my peaks.  The waiting.  The worrying.  The hope.  The FEAR.  The beautiful.  The ugly.  The pain.  The LOSS.

And so much more.

You’ve laughed with me and cried with me.

Your beautiful comments have helped me celebrate the good moments — and have lifted me up through the most difficult times.

Took this photo at the boys'  District Art Show.  The quote says:  "My life would not be complete without my friends and family. I don't know what I would do without them all."

Took this photo at the boys’ District Art Show. The quote says: “My life would not be complete without my friends and family. I don’t know what I would do without them all.”

So it is you who deserves a celebration on my blogoversary.  It is you who has spurred me along and encouraged me to write and to share, when I felt like it — and when I didn’t.

And it is you who deserves my gratitude.  Thank you for reading, liking (even when some of the content seemed unlikable!), commenting, following and sharing…

I feel like a VERY lucky girl!!  Well, aside from the cancer thing, of course!  😉

If this is your first visit, welcome — and click HERE for a good place to start.

First anniversary stats for those of you who like math:

-226 wonderful followers

-15,300 views

-1,100 (exactly!) comments

-95 posts

And cake, for those of you who prefer baked goods!

I asked the boys if I could share their cakes with you and they said, "Of course!"  They looked at me like I was nuts, but they were happy to give you all cake!

I asked the boys if I could share their cakes with you and they said, “Of course!” They looked at me like I was nuts, but they were happy to give you all cake!

THANK YOU!

The Dream

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I realize it has been over a week and a half since my last post.  Since I am too tired to muster the energy for a proper post, I thought I’d leave you with a short story — a dream, really.  

I promise to be back soon.  School ended for the boys on Thursday after 4 half-day sessions.  And the weekend was filled with their soccer games and errands in 90+ degree temperatures.  I thought being out in the heat  and hot sun all weekend would tire them out, but it’s actually me who seems to be having trouble!

Thanks for understanding.  I’ll “see” you soon…

——–

The Dream

Nina awoke in a panic.  She had been up well into the early morning hours again.  The last time she recalled looking at the clock, the bright blue numbers read 5:13 a.m.  She remembered getting up to go to the bathroom — again — and that was it.  She must have fallen asleep soon afterward.

More often than not, this was about the time when her eyes would finally close for the last time each night.  She was in pain all day, but the nights were in a class by themselves.  It was as if she kept herself so busy throughout the day that she managed to distract herself from what her body was feeling.  But at night there were no distractions.  It was just her body and her thoughts.

And she didn’t like either these days.

When sleep finally came, it was a deep sleep.  The kind that encourages dreaming.  She didn’t usually remember her dreams.  She was okay with this because there had been times in her life when her dreams had come true — and they were never the “good” dreams.

She thought of this as she remembered the dream she’d just had.  When she slept that morning, she found herself running from an assailant wearing a dark sweatshirt and black sneakers.  She was out of breath and panting as he came upon her.  He had the same shape as her husband and the same dark hair.  She couldn’t see his face.  But his scent was familiar.

She saw something shiny in his hand.  It caught the light from the streetlamp just right.  She recognized the object now.  It was a long kitchen knife.

Panic set in as she tried to run faster.  But it was too late.  He grabbed her from behind.  She tried to scream.  Tried and tried.  But no sound emerged.

She was still straining to scream when she woke suddenly.  Her heart was racing.  She was dripping with sweat and shivering because she was so wet that she was cold.  It had seemed so real.  And even in her groggy state she realized that she’d had this “dream” many times before.

She rolled onto her back and saw her husband’s dark eyes staring at her with a look of disdain.

“You woke me up,” he said, angrily.

She apologized and started to tell him that she was having a nightmare.  He cut her off and said he knew this because she was whimpering and saying “No” in her sleep.

She said “Sorry” again, but he didn’t care.  He never cared.

When Maroon 5’s “Love Somebody” interrupted her pathetic apology, she was glad.  It was 7:30.  Time to get the kids ready for school.  Time to put her game face on.

Her husband rolled over, positioning his back to her.  She caught a whiff of his musky odor.  And it was then that she recognized the scent from her dream…

Weekly Photo Challenge: Escape = The Sea

boat cancer cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast mastectomy ocean water puerto rico 30s 30's thirties

It is safe to say that the Weekly Photo Challenge topic for this week called my name.

ESCAPE means different things for different people.  But if you know me — either through this blog or in “real life” — you know that my favorite escape is almost always water-related.

Here are my photos for this week (all taken during a holiday in Puerto Rico):

puerto rico 30s thirties 30's breast cancer young

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cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30's 30s young

As always, thank you for visiting.  And if you’d like to participate in the challenge, just click here:

The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenges

And Tonight We Danced…

***

breast cancer thirties 30s 30's cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com dancing kids twins

Tonight we danced…
You and you and I…
***
We danced in the living room, between chairs
and beneath shiny blue paper stars and an off-white sky
***
Some days I wonder when it will all end
Some nights I lie awake knowing it can’t last
And fearing the day when you will no longer have a Mom
***
But for now, for tonight,
You are mine
And I am yours
***
For tonight your giggles will echo as you step on my toes
And we will dance and twirl ’til our heart’s content
You and you and I…

The Night I Lied to You

farm barn sepia breast cancer thirties 30s memories

 

Alright, technically I didn’t lie.  But I may as well have.

Do you remember that night?  It had been a muggy summer day.  But when you pulled up in your car at dusk, it was as if the humidity was sucked from the air, leaving a perfect July night in its wake.

I met you downstairs and we got in your car and drove.  And drove.  For hours with no destination in mind. I don’t think the destination was as important as the distance we put between your little car and our ‘real’ lives.

Into the city, out to the outlying rural towns.  On highways and country roads.  As the mixed tapes we made for each hummed in the background, we talked and talked.  We always talked like this, soaking up each and every drop of our time together.  It was as if we had never spoken before and had to learn everything about each other in one night.  And it was like this every time.

We drove into the starry night.  The music played on with professions of love and stories about loss and visions of star-crossed lovers escaping into the night together.

That is what we were.  Star-crossed lovers, you and I.

We drove through so many little towns that night, asking so many questions of one another.  We were playful and serious, thoughtful and direct.

A casual observer would think we held nothing back when we talked.  But we held the most important thing back.  You knew it.  I knew it.  We both knew that we both knew it.

But tonight was different.  I knew it would be different when we drove through that farm town.  We had already made our way through a handful that looked just the same.  But this place was different. As we drove down that dark road, your headlights piercing the darkness, raindrops began to fall.  We had just been talking about what you would do if you found out I was getting married.  Would you show up and tell me not to go through with it and ask me to run away with you?  Or would you watch me give my life to another?  Or would you stay away?

Though thoughts of marriage were far from my mind, of course I knew the wedding you were talking about was to your former best friend.  A guy who didn’t treat me very well.  A guy who you no longer seemed to care for.  Yet, he was the guy I was seeing.  He was away now.  Gone for a month on vacation with his parents.

And I had time to think about where my life was headed.  I was only 21.  I was independent and strong.  Bright and educated.  I was moving up the ranks at work, making a name for myself.  I had just gotten another raise.  I could have had a bright future ahead of me, but I was considering a move from the apartment I shared with a roommate to a place with the guy who didn’t treat me so well (we’ll use an acronym for him going forward — GWDTMSW).

And you and I were here, in your car, feeling as though we couldn’t get our timing right.  You were seeing someone or I was seeing someone.  Or both.  But we loved each other and had no trouble expressing our feelings in lengthy letters over the years.

But out of respect for GWDTMSW, we danced around the giant pink elephant in the car.  In fact, out of the corner of my eye I could see that pink elephant waving at me from the backseat.  But I ignored him.

And we drove.  Into a little micro-climate in this small town.  A fleeting rainstorm.  Heavy drops of fresh rain pelted the car as you told me it would be too much for you to bear.  You could never sit back and watch me marry another.  You would let me make my decision, but if it wasn’t you standing up there taking my hand, you would not be there.  I gulped as I considered the prospect.

The heavy rain gave way to a sprinkle.  And just then, this desolate country road was filled with frogs.  Little bits of green hopped in front of the car.  There were hundreds of them.  They extended as far as the reach of your headlights.

I made you stop the car immediately, lest we not squash a single one. It was an incredible sight.  Magical, really.

I jumped out of the car to scoop one up, just as I would have when I was 8 years old.  I was filled with glee as I held that slimy little friend in my hand.  And you were grinning, too.   Happy that I was happy.

I forget how long we waited for the frogs to clear.  Shooing them to the edge of the road was slow but rewarding work.  You inched your way through the thinning crowd and I walked ahead and kept clearing.  We lost some of Kermit’s brethren along the way, but the losses were unavoidable.

Afterward, we reluctantly decided to drive back to my apartment in the city.  We both knew the night would end when we reached my driveway.

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30's 30s memories

It still took time.  These were the days before GPS and we only vaguely knew where we were.  And we traveled roads neither of us had traveled before.

But I felt more found than lost.

We found our way together.  As we pulled up to that disheveled former mansion turned apartment building, you asked if I wanted to take a walk.   The area was divided into two parts.  Bad and good.  My apartment was a few hundred feet from the invisible divider.  On the bad side.  So we abandoned the car and made our way to the ‘good’ side.

We walked on the tree-lined streets, each dotted with lovely cottage-likes homes and large historic mansions made of stone or plaster.   We walked close enough for our arms to brush against each other occasionally.  You made a comment about how the people in their cars were probably wondering why you weren’t holding my hand.  And you said that you would if I would let you.  But I didn’t.  I wanted to, but I couldn’t.  Because I was loyal to GWDTMSW.

As we came up on East Avenue again, you stopped and turned to me.  And this was where you asked me to marry you.  You knew I was the one.  You had been in love with me for years.  And I loved you, too.  I knew you were the love of my life.

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30s 30's memories

I remember my response as though it were yesterday.  “Yes, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

What kind of response is that to a marriage proposal?  It is the kind of response you give when you know that something or someone will get in the way.  It is the kind of response you give when you don’t want to lie, despite how much you’d like to simply say, “Yes.” It is the kind of response you give when the bad things you have experienced in your life have so warped you that you are afraid to just choose happiness.

We continued on our stroll.  Dawn would be breaking soon.

——–

Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited — Dirty Memories

Written in response to The Daily Post Challenge

Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30s 30's sexual abuse childhood

Photo Credit: creepypasta.wikia.com

Dirty Memories

Chubby little fingers grip a wooden banister

He leads her toward a strange basement

She is scared

And for good reason

They reach the bottom and he takes her aside

This is where it happens

Again

Her young mind can’t wrap itself around this

And for good reason

No three-year-old should understand this

But she will one day

He finishes

And leads her back upstairs

She does what she is told

She follows

He is her dad, after all

He takes her to the pony rides on the way home

This will wash the dirty memories away

That’s what he thinks, at least

But he is wrong

I will always have the dirty memories

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