Tag Archives: gratitude

Thankful

I wanted to write something about how thankful I am for all of the loveliness in my life. I’m hesitating, though, because of the timing. I mean, on the one hand, it’s perfect timing, right? Thanksgiving weekend? And on the other hand, it feels sort of… unoriginal maybe? By this time in the season, we’ve all read what each other is grateful for on Facebook or other media, around the dinner table, etc. While I believe in the power of gratitude, and do believe that we could all stand to be a little more mindful of what is good in our lives, at some point one thing does start to bleed into another, and I fear it starts to lose its meaning, or something. I recognize gratitude fatigue shouldn’t be a thing. I’m just explaining my hesitancy, I guess.

However, regardless of my ambivalence, the fact remains that I have been enormously blessed this year, and feel the need to recognize it. Because whenever anyone says something about losing their faith in humanity, I wish they could see life from my viewpoint. And maybe I feel the need to balance what I see on the news. Because from where I stand, the humanity that surrounds me couldn’t be much better, and I am so thankful for that.

My mom had this experience as she was staying with me after surgery, in which she got into a conversation with a stranger (this part is by no means unusual for my very social mother). The man also had a daughter who had just had a mastectomy, but the similarities ended there. The woman had nobody to care for her except her father, who was stuck at work. She was waiting in the hospital for him to get off of work and take her to his apartment, which wasn’t big enough for the both of them. He was very nervous about how he would give her the post-surgical care that she needed. I’m not even sure if she had insurance.

Contrast that with my experience. I not only am fully covered by health insurance, but I was able to travel to a different state to have the exact surgeon I wanted. I am so incredibly thankful for that, and so acutely aware that I could have just as easily been in her position as I am in mine. During surgery, I had my parents, Brian, and Miko anxiously waiting for me in the hospital, and countless others in other places. After surgery, I was thoroughly spoiled and cared for by family. First, my mom came with us back to Missoula to do everything I needed and every chore I couldn’t attend to, making me feel as if there was nothing she would rather do than make my meals and drain my surgical drains. She made me delicious smoothies, took Miko to and from school, and washed and ironed everything she could find in our house, most of which I didn’t even know needed to be ironed.  The day after she left,  my sister took her place, and took care of my every need and want. Again, delicious meals were made and chores were done. She stayed a week, buying our groceries, running our errands, entertaining us, and making me feel like the most loved sister in the history of sisters. And what’s more, had my mother and sister not been able to come, I can count at least 10 people who might have helped had I called. While they were here, I actually had to turn away help. I was overwhelmed by the goodness of people.

During this whole process, people — and I’m not just talking my immediate circle here — really could not have been nicer or more generous. I’m consistenly reminded of the love around me. All of the cards and the gifts and the flowers and the meals and the messages of hope and love, they have helped me more than I think I am even aware. Because they let me know that while this may be happening to me, I am not alone. That is an incredibly powerful message, one for which I am so thankful (despite being painfully late on my thank you notes).

It’s not only the people in my life I’m thankful for. My sweet dog, Rufus, stayed by my side all summer, while I was at my sickest. When I got home from surgery, he didn’t let me out of his sight if he could help it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until a week and a half after surgery when his breathing became labored that we found out that he had been struggling with his own cancer. While we were putting him to sleep, I was overcome with gratitude that this loyal companion gave me constant comfort at a time when he just needed a little comfort himself. I am so thankful to have been the human to that loyal dog.

So when I am discouraged by the news, by accounts of people trampling others on Black Friday, gun violence, abuse and neglect, I remind myself that this isn’t what I see on a daily basis. And maybe it’s true that the people around me are just especially good (because I do have outstanding people in my life), I like to think what I see every day is a more accurate reflection of humanity. These well-wishes I receive, this need that others have to let me know that I am in their thoughts and prayers, these consistent offers of help and food and sweetness, they aren’t sensational or sexy enough to make the headlines that scare us. But they happen every single day, and serve as a reminder that people can be pretty wonderful. So I am so thankful for all of those reminders. And honestly, I wouldn’t be nearly as aware of this wonderful humanity were it not for my cancer. So, in a strange way, I’m thankful for my cancer as well. As long as I can beat it.

Gratitude

When I was little, I idolized my sister. What she said was law, and I followed it without question. She was self-assured, assertive, four years older than me, which gave her infinite authority, and had a unique way about her. As I grew older and able to question a little more, forging my own identity, she continued to be a strong influence on how that identity was shaped. It’s possible, though I’m not sure, that social justice would not be such a strong priority for me were I not influenced by her. This has led to a strong interest in politics, as well as a tendency to question the status quo.

Well lately, my status quo is anger and irritation, as I wrote about in my recent post about anger. It isn’t helped by the chemo making me so sun-sensitive, seriously limiting the hours I can be outdoors. Or the fact that I get these transient vision changes, making me dizzy or giving me a headache if I look at a screen or print for very long. All of this limits the activities available to me that might normally divert my attention from the normal state of affairs.

Once again, my sister to the rescue. She recently started 30 days of gratitude and exercise, in an effort to focus on the good in her life. So, I will follow her example, hopefully injecting some much needed positivity into mine. My exercise won’t look like hers, mind you. She says things like, “I ran nine miles today,” or “I took a bike ride around Vashon Island.” Mine will likely be my normal 30-minute walk, because that’s what I can do. But I’ll do it. And I’ll spend a part of each day identifying and concentrating on something for which I am grateful. Maybe I’ll post each thing on Facebook, to keep myself accountable. Maybe I won’t, because I don’t imagine it will be super interesting to others. We’ll see.

Today’s is easy. I am grateful that before entering into my fourth and reportedly most difficult round of chemotherapy yet, I got to spend a weekend with family, filling me with strength. I got to see my parents, who coddled me and had just taken Miko on a whirlwind tour of Seattle. I got to see my sister, who took time off of work to spend with me, made me laugh, and cooked me delicious treats (think profriterole stuffed with salted caramel ice cream, topped with caramel sauce and a pistachio dusting. All from scratch). And her sweet husband who might be the sweetest, most positive person I’ve ever known. I got to see my sweet nephew Scott (twice!) and his adorable boyfriend Keoni, reminding me how wonderful and interesting this next generation can be. I got to see Miko, who I’d been away from for a week, and take her to camp with her cousins. I got to see my cousins when I dropped Miko off at camp. They made me a delicious dinner and made me feel loved. I got to see a new family forming when I spent an evening with old friends, Jon and Dale, and their five-year-old son who they are currently fostering, with the plan to adopt.

All in all, it was a lovely weekend, and I came back to Missoula feeling more emotionally prepared and strengthened to enter this round. I am so grateful for that. To maintain that, I’ll follow in Chris’s footsteps once more. Thanks, Chris. I am grateful for you, too.