A Post a Day in May 2019 #25: Grateful, with eyes wide open

-
I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May. 

Life is good. I enjoy the sunrise every morning. My little family wakes up, we make our individual ways through the day, then gather together to share a meal, do a few chores and enjoy each other’s loving companionship. 

Good and easy
Life is good, but it’s not the life I had pictured. It’s quieter. The horizon is a bit closer than I had thought it might be as I head towards 60. And the potential for adventure is smaller than it was 25 years ago. 

Life is good, and I am grateful for the love and security I have. But it is a different life than I had envisioned it being at this stage. 

My partner’s original breast cancer diagnosis more than 20 years ago put us on the road to ‘different’, but it was the recurrence in 2013 that moved us into the fast lane. We are, without question, grateful that surgery, chemo, radiation and follow-up drugs treated the cancer. Being alive is good. But we are alive with our eyes wide open, and we see — every day — the impact that the treatment has had on Val’s body.
Good and different

Without a body, we are nothing. When the body we have simply cannot do the bidding we want, then life is, by its very definition, different than expected, than planned. Speaking only for myself, understanding of this comes slowly and acceptance of this comes even more slowly. But come it does. Sometimes wholly, sometimes only in fragments hard to keep hold of. But it comes. 

Today, I mark another day of my good life. Different than it might have been, and good, very good, nonetheless. I’m holding onto that thought and I’m getting on with my day. 

Thanks for reading. 



- - - - 

Writers want to be read; at least, this writer wants to be read, so comments, rebuttals and feedback are all welcome. Subscribe to the blog to receive the posts direct into your email inbox. 

Comments

  1. FintaMay 25, 2019 at 5:45 AM

    Some days I wonder when I got old, why my infrastructure betrayed me. I dream I can walk without a cane or walker, can dig in the dirt all day and plant seeds, pick up a baby and carry him on my hip. Different is right. It's a "welcome to Holland" moment.
    "

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated. Please be respectful.

Popular posts from this blog

Life story: I am from...where? who? what?

-
Image
The Le Rougetel family circa 1965: Anne, Charles, Amanda, Katy, Colin I recently attended the celebration of life for a friend’s father who had died at 95. The service was bright with song and lively with memories, and it got me thinking about how we wrap up a life with stories. Stories of fun and adventure, success and achievement, of impact and wisdom. Or maybe stories of hardship and pain, of loss and lack, of hard luck and sorrow. Or, likely, a mix of all that. Regardless, at the end, we celebrate a life in story. It got me thinking about how my story might be told when my end comes. That’s a long way off, I hope, but in the meantime, I pulled out an activity that Deborah and I have used in one of our writing workshops . It’s a variation on the “I am from…” prompt developed by George Ella Lyon , and it’s surprisingly thought provoking. It asks you to dig ever deeper about where you are from — while the cheap answer is Toronto (city where I was born), the richer, more valuable answe
Read more

Looking elsewhere for success: It’s not always found in first place

-
Image
I do not own a magazine. I am not an editor to whom writers submit their work, hoping I will publish it. I am the writer who submits her work hoping it will make the cut with the editor to whom I have submitted it; recently, I have done this without success. But, hang on, what is success for a writer? What is success for any of us? Last week, my writer friend Finnian Burnett made it onto the long list for the 2023 CBC Nonfiction prize . A friend’s success is happily celebrated, so a big HOORAY for Finn ! Reflecting on the meaning of this accomplishment, Finn spoke of feeling proud for having written a piece and thinking it was good enough to submit and then actually submitting it. That is an achievement of which to be justifiably proud, said Finn, because so many writers don’t ever make it to the end of the finish + polish + submit stage. They give up somewhere along the line or disappear down a tangent or never even get started. Finn’s perspective gave me pause and has me reconsideri
Read more

Anne Le Rougetel: my splendid mother

-
Image
April 2024: Anne and Amanda -- mother & daughter with but one nose between us (as it were) Formal notice Anne Le Rougetel died peacefully at home on Friday, April 26, 2024, with her daughters at her side. Born in 1928, Anne was a remarkable woman; a talented writer; an eclectic reader; well versed in world affairs; loving beyond measure to her children; kind and generous to friends; compassionate to those in need. She enjoyed reading a good book and engaging in interesting conversation. Due to failed vision and failing hearing, both these pursuits disappeared from her life in the final year or so. Please remember Anne by taking a friend to coffee and enjoying a delicious pastry. Anne was predeceased by her husband Colin. She is survived by her three children and their families: Katy (Guy). Amanda (Val). Charles (Lisa, Max and Sam). Special mention must be made of Barbara Chan, who was a generous friend and caring companion to Anne, and of Edna Abel, who was a loving friend and inte
Read more