I just returned from a great vacation with my sister and her family in Florida, that's the good news. I ate seafood for the first time in 7 months, saw my pelican friends, played in the ocean like a little kid, rode on the motorcycle, and drank a little too much. Basically I enjoyed life the way we all are supposed to be doing. My young nephew even put a smile on my face before we left for Florida by making this for me:
He knows me well! It was a great trip!
I'm glad I took a break from most all social medias while I was gone because today when getting back and checking on my friends at various boards it came to my attention that one of the very first ladies that reached out to me, who was diagnosed the same as me, passed away.
We only knew each other by nicknames, like most on the boards do. She was an inspiration to me because she was always quick to respond and almost always with enthusiasm and support. When I left I knew she wasn't feeling well, but fully expected to see her back on the board chatting away with us all. What I also didn't realize was the outpouring and sadness on one Facebook group for the real named woman, was the same nicknamed woman who reached out to me. It wasn't until the two were connected today that it hit me. I am heartbroken, and realize how many lives she touched now that the connection has been made. Her name was Julie, but to me she was PurpleMinion. She wanted so desperately to see her daughter graduate from high school. She didn't make it, and that also breaks my heart. Her daughter is 16. She was a mom, a vet, a soul mate, a friend.
Her passing makes things real. Even though things have been very, very positive for me, it lets some of reality and worry seep in. It reminds me that I'm having major surgery next week that has me scared shitless. It reminds me that this disease is ferocious. It reminds me that I am in a fight for my life, and it's not over.
Which leads me back to my vacation. Julie's last communication to a woman in my group was to enjoy life, all of it, and to the fullest. We never know when our time will come, any of us. That's what I did this past week, and what I try to do every day. Some days living life to the fullest is The Price is Right in my PJs and not worrying about the laundry, sometimes it's riding on the motorcycle around town with my husband, vacationing with family or friends, or talking (or texting) to my daughters. Sometimes it's sitting alone on my deck watching the birds and listening to the kids play in their yards.
Since my diagnosis my mantra is "What are you waiting for?" I believe this fits in my life very well now, and I say it to friends as often as necessary. My husband has wanted a big, used truck for as long as I can remember. We always look at them, test drive them, talk to our salesman, study them, then walk away. I finally said to my husband exactly that, "What are you waiting for?" We bought the last one, and it's worth every penny to see the look on his face when he drives it.
I once remember reading somewhere.......Use the good China. Agreed. If you don't it will sit in the dark, collect dust, and never be appreciated. And that thought leads me to something written many years ago by one of my favorite smartasses:
“If I had my life to live over...
Someone asked me the other day if I had my life to live over would I change anything.
My answer was no, but then I thought about it and changed my mind.
If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy and complaining about the shadow over my feet, I'd have cherished every minute of it and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was to be my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried less about the dirt when you lit the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have burnt the pink candle that was sculptured like a rose before it melted while being stored.
I would have sat cross-legged on the lawn with my children and never worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television ... and more while watching real life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband which I took for granted.
I would have eaten less cottage cheese and more ice cream.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick, instead of pretending the Earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day.
I would never have bought ANYTHING just because it was practical/wouldn't show soil/ guaranteed to last a lifetime.
When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now, go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more I love yous ... more I'm sorrys ... more I'm listenings ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it ... look at it and really see it ... try it on ... live it ... exhaust it ... and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.”
― Erma Bombeck, Eat Less Cottage Cheese and More Ice Cream: Thoughts on Life from Erma Bombeck
I started this post very, very sad. I feel a little better now. Thanks for listening.
Now off to Germanfest, where I will visit with friends, revisit memories from high school in Kaiserslautern and raise a mug to my friend Julie.
Prost! 🍻
Ruhe in Frieden, mein freund. 🙏👼
