Fuck Cancer

2009 was a rough year for my family. And boy, do I mean ROUGH.

In January of 09 my uncle, my favorite uncle, the guy whom I called my 2nd dad was diagnosed with terminal stage 5 cancer. See, it started in '08 when he found out he had a tumor on his kidney. They removed the kidney and told him the cancer was gone. They never did a bone scan, and it turns out, they were wrong. By the time he found out the following January that the cancer wasn't gone, the tumors were in his bones and all over his body. They tried one round of an aggressive chemo/radiation cocktail. It caused his remaining kidney to fail. That landed him in the hospital for 3 months so that he could receive dialysis treatment twice a day, 5 days a week. He was finally able to go home, and that's where he passed away a month after. July 2, 2009 was the first time I was able to say 'fuck cancer'.

It wasn't the first time cancer had touched my life: my godfather's wife successfully beat breast cancer. However, it was the first time cancer had taken someone from me. Then in September of '09 my mother was diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer. In December, she had surgery and had the pea sized tumor removed. She was lucky, it was caught early in her annual mammogram, and it was small. She's in remission, but I will always worry. Thus ended 2009, it began and ended in cancer. Fuck that.

This August, my friend Dave's wife passed after a long painful bout with Stage 5 metastasized cancer. It began in her breasts nearly 6 years ago. She had a double mastectomy and beating the odds, won another 5 years with her family. But the cancer fought harder, and it won. My friend is a widower at 30. He was only married a year. Fuck that.

Last fall, my dear friend J's father was diagnosed with brain cancer. A tumor had decided to wrap itself around his brain stem, and was deemed inoperable. The past year has had the family taking him to and from chemo treatments, waiting, watching...but not hoping. Instead, they learned to grieve in advance. Pre-emptive grieving. Learning to put things in perspective for the inevitable. The inevitable should have been old age. But in this case, as it is with so many others, it was cancer.

J's dad passed away this morning. She and her family have been a part of my life since 1994. She was the first person I met in high school orientation. We used to joke that our fathers were personality twins. He leaves behind a wife, two daughters, 5 grandchildren and countless friends and relatives. Like my uncle, and Dave's wife, Mr. D touched many lives before his own was taken before those of us left were ready.

I don't believe in the 'cure' for cancer. But I do believe in research and better treatment. I walk for various charities that donate the proceeds to companies that are researching treatment. So that one day, the word 'cancer' won't sound like the gavel on a death sentence. I ask that anyone reading this do the same. Walk, get sponsors, make a donation. Because cancer touches everyone's life in one way or another. It's only a matter of time before you too can say FUCK CANCER.

Pretty Sexy Things

I can delete someone from my life, almost like they never existed. Especially if no tears were shed. One minute there, the next minute gone and the past year is now just a warm memory. If I chose to think about it, which I don't. But it's funny how even though someone is deleted from my present, there are clues to their existence in my life that are left behind. That empty bottle of wine that is tucked behind the trash can that I keep forgetting to throw away. The toothbrush on the top shelf of my medicine cabinet. And then, my personal favorite, the underwear that I bought in the early days of the relationship.

Yep. The Victoria's Secret timeline of relationships. Single women should buy stock in Victoria's Secret (LTD, NASDAQ) so that we can at least have some sort of fiscal return on the investment. The VS timeline is a lace bordered reminder of every guy who got lucky enough to see the goods. It's also a reminder of how it felt buying that little scrap of nothing to wear for someone special. There's adrenaline involved when buying pretty sexy things for someone new to see. Along with a tinge of guilt when new guy sees something I've worn for someone else. But a girl is not about to throw away perfectly good panties just because of a breakup. We have way too much common sense for that. Consider it recycling.

Sometimes, it's a little baffling opening up the lingerie drawer and seeing the ghosts of boyfriends past staring at me through lace eyelets. Granted, since I'm all single mom and stuff, I have very few exes staring at me. They're all colors, black, white, pink, mauve...But the blue ones, those ones are for me. Along with all my sturdy cotton numbers. (Sorry boys, you get no credit for those) The nice thing is being able to close the drawer, and send those ghosts packing. Back to the deleted file.

An Open Bleeding Letter

I wish I had waited to write, instead of doing it at 1am when I was still worked up. I wish I wasn't the type to say things that aren't necessarily true in order to safeguard my feelings. I wish I hadn't felt the need to safeguard my feelings. I wish I had the courage to trust in someone else, but truthfully, I'm the biggest coward. I wish I hadn't been right.

You never made me promises, and I never asked for anything that I knew you weren't capable of giving. I should have asked anyway. We might have left off the same way, but without this feeling of betrayal. Betrayal which I would have forgiven then, had there been no deception, and could even forgive now. If you asked me. You haven't. In fact, you haven't even said you're sorry. An admission of guilt is not the same thing as an apology. I forgive you anyway. This is the story of my nurturing mother heart.

You say it was self sabotage, which is something to which I can relate. I caught myself repeatedly, but the difference is, is that I already know I'm broken. I told myself that it could never last, to just enjoy the time I had. I was setting myself up for failure. In short, I wrote my destiny. I only let you see the surface of me, and in this, I'm slightly thankful. This ordeal would hurt so much more if you had a bigger piece of me. I never let you see my whole life, the one behind the curtain. Would it have made a difference?

I don't think you realized that the wake of destruction behind your actions was going to be this wide. Did you think I was never going to find out? You were quite nearly in the clear. I can only imagine the panic you must have felt when I told you where I was going and with whom. I can only imagine the relief you must have felt when I didn't call you crying. Do you know how foolish I feel now? I was self righteous in my naivety. I had no reason not to trust you. I must have looked like some poor pathetic naive little girl with her head in the sand.

I hate that I miss you. I would have missed you without this mess. I would have missed our hikes, our talks, our tearing apart of your car. I would have missed you in bed and out. I would have missed you. I didn't need to hate missing you. I don't need to bleed over you. Yet here I am. Still waiting for you to say you're sorry.