Kicking cancer's ass - day 1980

 

Today is my 46th birthday.  At first I told Hubby that I wasn't going to have a birthday because I wanted to stay 45.  Going past that, in my mind, seems like the start of the downhill slope.  But then I realized....I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 40, so the farther I get away from that number the better!!!

Unlike last year, my day did not start out with my BFF singing to me, but it was still a pretty damn good day.  My mom called and sang Happy Birthday.  My dad called and sang Happy Birthday.  My brother texted a long Happy Birthday message.  My kids gave me cards and perfect gifts (Pure Water gift card and a gift certificate for a pedicure).  I've had dozens of birthday wishes on Facebook, through texts and phone calls.  And I spent the day with my most favorite person.

With the kids otherwise occupied, Hubby and I took a ride out of town to our friends' lake lot.  Lunch at DQ meant birthday ice cream. (only one of those was mine!!)

A cat nap on the ride home continued for two more hours once I got comfy on the couch.  

Dinner with my Hubby, my kids and our friends meant steak and a frozen peach bellini.  Yum.

We sent the kids home and the adults actually went out....to a bar....with drinks and live music and everything!  I saw some of my softball people there and got some more birthday hugs.

I didn't have a birthday cake (I would've been too full for it anyway!), but if I had, I'd want it to look like this one:

Celebrating another birthday is another big eff you to cancer.  I'm still here.  I'm still healthy.  I'm happy and content and my life is full of blessings.  Happy 6th bonus birthday to me!

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1979

One year ago, I sat in a pretty room in a pretty hospice house in a pretty Virginia town...it was a quiet, peaceful winter's night.  But all of that pretty can't hide the reality of what that house is:  a place where people go to die.

The girl who had been my best friend since I was eleven years old was lying in the bed in that room, ready and waiting for God to call her home.

I was leaving the next morning, heading back to Texas...back to my family, back to a job and kids and school and all of the things that fulfill my life as a busy mom.  But my heart just wanted to stay right where I was at that moment.

I think I sat by her bedside most of the night, unwilling to give up any of our last precious hours together, not even to sleep.  I held her hand, I fed her ice chips, I played music for us on my phone.  All the while I was trying to figure out how the hell I was going to say goodbye the next day.

Goodbye is one thing.  But this was GOODBYE.

I know she was ready.  She was tired, and her soul was at peace.

I'm still not ready.

It's been almost one year since I last saw Trudy's smiling face.  One year since she sang Happy Birthday to me for the last time.  One year since I heard "I love you Bah".

Time moves on.  Life goes on.  Grief lives on.

In ten minutes it will be my sixth "bonus birthday" since my very own d-day, which is amazing and fills me with gratitude.

It will also be my first birthday without my Trude, and that is amazingly sad.