One Do A Day

…

I promised myself that day, I would write her daughter those very words.

But I didn’t.

Life got busy.

Her passing, I suppose, passed.

For me.

But not for Rubie. Not for her husband. Not for her Goddaughter or her best friends. It’s likely just as hard today as it was a year ago. It was so sudden. No one got to hear her laugh one more time. No one got to see her freshly redded nails and lips. No one got to see her chomp her gum and hear her talk about her love for her sisters. Her husband. Her daughter.

…

And then life. Well. It happened to me. It happens to the best of us. And the worst. Hard happpppens. And people upon people took time and wrote me words. To do me good. To tell me that I am an inspiration. To tell me I’ve got this. To tell me I was up for the fight.

And I kept telling about the goodness. And how I couldn’t believe it. And everyone kept telling me that you get back what you give.

And I thought about Rubie.

I wasn’t reaping what I’d sown.

I hadn’t taken the time to write one simple card. To tell that little girl that her mom made a difference to me. And that she has the genes to take on the world when she’s ready. I got busy.

But you. You didn’t.

You. You have made all the difference.

…

I’ve been feeling scared lately. Which is completely odd, right? I am cancer-free! Why should I be scared? For the last 7 months, I’ve known I had cancer and now, the treatment I’m having is to help me live without a recurrence. Because, as we cancer folk know, breast cancer coming back … well… it’s not really what you want. And, the reality is that even though I am, for all intents and purposes, without cancer in my body, I am still healing. And still have more treatment ahead including radiation, fills, another surgery. And of course, I have my eyes on the prize — the 5 year mark. The mark at which I will officially be known as “in remission”.

And so I live in fear.

For what?

For what.

She didn’t even get to say goodbye. But I am blessed to have the chance to say hello again, every morning. To kiss my husband. To hug my kids. To call my mom. And to pray for other people’s pain.

I’m worn right now. There’s no hiding that. Chemo. Surgery. It’s taken it’s toll on this mama. But my heart is still the same. My spirit is still the same. And my love of life, is still the same.

I’m still alive. And mostly, vibrant. Mostly, happy. Mostly, a version of myself.

…

 

 

Some are funny. Some are inspirational. Some are probs inappropriate. But frankly, my dear, I don’t really give a damn. Because it’s a good reminder to me allllll day long.

And yesterday, I wore a new one I picked up… This is my journey. That’s right. THIS is my journey. Or perhaps: This IS my journey. But most certainly: This is MY journey. And I get to choose one thing.

So for April, I am recalibrating a bit. I am going love the crap out of April. Not in a fake way… in a finding a new normal way. In a stop-feeling-sorry-for-my-self-getting-cancer-at-33 way. Because ain’t nobody got time for that. I will process all of this for a very long time. But that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to be joyful throughout. And I said from the beginning, I would be abnormal about this. I am still laughing. Dancing. Loving. Living. But I get down when the weather’s down. I get down when I hear a story of recurrence of mets. I get down when I’m rocking my baby because I know. I know this is all so short.

But screw that. I will have my down moments. We all do. But they will not control me. Not in April.

I am going to embrace the rain clouds. And let them wash me clean. I am going to celebrate alllllll that I get to be. Even when I’m tired. Because I will be. Even when I’m worn. Because I am. And even when I feel like I still have cancer. I am going to focus on everything turning anew. Focus on goodness. On saying hello again {because really, Shelly Long isn’t the only one to get a second chance}. On laughing and living for each day. And about knowing that even when fear is present, it does not get to rule my present.

For me. For my boys. For my husband. For Rubie. Because you can bet your bottom dollar that if T had another day here, that’s what she would do. That’s what she would want.

So tomorrow begins another month. But because it’s April Fools Day, I didn’t want to roll this out then.

Because I want to know if you’ll come with me…

Is there someone that has inspired you to be better? To live fuller? To realize the brevity and sweetness of living? Or, have you been in a slump? Down in the dumps? Trudging through hard? And wondering how to take that down funk and turn it uptown?

…

One thought a day. One little difference. One card in the mail. One call to a friend. One gift for no reason. One surprise session under the covers with your lover. One apology. One thank you. One sentence. One praise to your kid before you spout out a criticism. One book read that feeds your soul. One lunch or coffee or playdate with people who fill you up. And one big thank you to those who do.

All of these things can make such an impact. All of these things and more.

So.


One Do a Day.

That’s what I’m calling it. One Do a Day. All month long. For your Rubie. In honor of your T. In light of a new season. In hope of a new attitude.
Spread the GOODNESS.
Spread your goodness.
It’s in you. I know it is. Because you’ve given it to me.

Each day in April, I will be posting here and on Facebook and Instagram… my One Do. Not to brag. To hold myself accountable. To follow through. Because let me tell you, I am great at ideas. I might even say, I think if the thought is really what counted, I might win. But it’s the follow-through that counts. And so, I’m going to show you my follow-through. Perhaps to inspire myself. And maybe, perhaps, in an attempt to inspire or remind you to do so to.

Are you in?