So, while I may regret (to some degree) not having written recently, I will not apologize for it. Knowing I wrote as recently as September, I know I have reflected recently enough. Still, I know also that as a year winds down, I tend to stop and reflect while also looking ahead.
So, I am unapologetic, but remain reflective and and looking ahead all the same. I work to invest my time in people and things that fill me. Sometimes I have time to sit down and write. Sometimes, I do not. I hope to make more time for writing, but cannot apologize for not having time before now to write.
2018 hurt.
My dear friend lost her battle with colon cancer at the same time another friend started her battle with colon cancer. And, that hurts. And so, I begin looking back, feeling overly reflective. It began not in 2018, but in 2017. It was my 40th birthday and we gathered to celebrate. Aunt Nini confided that she was in a lot of pain as I brought friends together to celebrate and take photos, and enjoy the time. "If you are in pain, why aren't you at the hospital?" I pleaded, I pondered, I wanted to know. "F**K you," she said as only she could. I knew. How dare I question why she was where she was. We didn't miss time together. I had missed a breakfast date almost ten years earlier because my water had broken. Still, I was apologetic and trying to figure out how to make breakfast happen while in the hospital welcoming my first child into the world three weeks early. That's what we did. That's who we were. How dare I question why she was at my 40th birthday party. We had beaten cancer. Right?!
And yet, here we were.
And, then, less that a year later, I was visiting her diligently in the hospital, at home, in the care center.
2018 hurt.
At the end of June, after a long and fierce battle, cancer won. Cancer won. I had spent Thanksgiving 2017 with her in Las Vegas . I had sat diligently by her bedside in Turlock and Modesto. But, cancer won. She fought long. She fought hard. F**K YOU CANCER! I held her hand and we walked proudly through Ceasar's. She was my friend. She was my sister. She was a huge part of why I am where I am today. She helped get me through my darkest times. She held my hand. She saw me through. She protected me. She guarded me. She was my light at the end of a very dark tunnel. She loved me. She supported me. I am who I am and I am where I am in large part because of her. She gave meme an oasis, safe place.
2018 hurt. A lot.
She never read my blog. This blog. She said she was waiting for the book. I wonder if she was really reading. Still, she said she was waiting for the book. I owe her that. It will come. In time.
2018 hurt.
A very dear college friend is battling the same cancer. One month before Aunt Nini died, my sweet Elizabeth shared her diagnosis. I knew immediately what I needed to do. I was headed for Atlanta.
2018 hurt. And it was full of adventure.
And so the hurt and adventure came together.
Aunt Nini died and Miss Hollywood and I attended her memorial. Then, we hopped a plane to Atlanta. We spent time and it was beautiful and I am thankful.
Adventures for 2018 included baseball games, faires, festivals, and family events. It included travel near and far. 2018 was amazing. CD went to camp with the Boy Scouts for the first time while Miss Hollywood traveled out of state for the first time. We took time to plan 2019 adventures. We enjoyed each others' company. We enjoyed the travel. We look ahead. Life is good.
In 2019, we will travel out of state, we will obtain our passports for international travel, and we will journey great places.
Life is good.
As I look back on 2018 and look ahead to 2019 I see one word very clearly: RIVER.
A favorite Garth Brooks song is "The River."
"A dream is like a river
ever-changing as it flows
And a dream is just a vessel
that must follow where it goes..."
And so...I will sail my vessel until the river runs dry....I will journey to greatness. I will take my children on this journey. We will travel upwind and downwind. We will visit new places. We will visit friends and family. We will learn new things and try new things.
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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