Hello, Universe.
My head is buzzing with so many thoughts right now.
It all started with Greek food. I was in the mood for greek food, so I stopped on my way home for an eggplant pizza for me, and a gyro for Tom. Tom is actually not home tonight, but I figured I would get him a gyro(that is what he loves), just in case they don't feed him at band rehearsal.
Now, I guess some women would be like, ahhh. House to myself. Take out and pj's. Yeah!!
But, I'm not like most women.
You see, Tom is always home for dinner. Always. And dinner is the highlight of my day. Always has been. As a child, we rarely ate dinner as a family. And I always thought that when I grew up, I would have that. And for a while I didn't.
So, when Tom and I decided to "shack up", I was so impressed by the fact that he came home the same time every night, and he looked forward to eating with me. It was like magic or something. I would call my mom and say, mom, he did it again. Can you believe it? A whole week and we ate together every night.
He didn't even think about it. He just did it. For him, this was going to be our normal. I never had to ask.
And Tom comes home, the same time, every night for dinner....still.
If you ask me today, what's the best gift Tom has ever given me, I would say dinner. It's the one thing I look forward to each day, and count on each night.
Why am I talking about all this mushy, gushy stuff?
Well, because tonight, It was weird eating alone. I didn't know what to do. I could hear every noise in this old house. The food didn't taste as good. And, I missed the sound of his truck.
So I started going through the mail, while I was eating. Beads, oh more beads, oh, car payment...oh, Coping Magazine...yeah!!!
An article I wrote for Coping Magazine has been published in the next issue. So, I tore open the envelope and there I was. With my little elf face on. A picture from my 35th birthday. Talking about Cancer.
And that's when it hit me.
Dying would be different now, then it would have been 11 years ago.
NO, I'm not sick.
I'm fine. It's not like that.
It's just that at 24, I had a life to look forward to.
At 35, I have a life to leave behind.
At 24, I didn't think I was dying. I was going to get a teaching job. I was getting married. I was going to have children. I was going to have a Lexus SUV. Cancer was interrupting my life.
I wasn't scared of dying, I was scared of living through the tests.
When your 24, you don't think about dying because you've just started living.
At 35, if I was told I was sick, I would be petrified of dying. I wouldn't care about those days ahead of me that I would miss. I would be more scared of leaving the life I have now behind.
What would Tom do? Sure he'd cope. But, he couldn't live here. Not in this house. It would be depressing. But, he wouldn't sell the place, because that would be depressing. He loves this silly house. What would he eat? He is so bad at remembering to eat. He won't eat if I'm not here. Who will remind him to take lunch? Who will fart and make him laugh? I can't leave him. I'm comic relief! I'm part of his life, damn it!
We eat dinner together every night, ya know.
And what about my Mom? When I was 24, she was still married. She had a house. She had two incomes. She had a husband. My brother lived at home. She had her mother. Now, all of that has changed. What if she needs me? What if she doesn't feel well? What if her rent gets too high? What if someone is mean to her? Who will look after her? I couldn't leave my mom. I'm part of her life, damn it again!
At 24, a 13 pd tumor, was about me.
At 35, a 13 pd tumor, would be about the ones I love.
Note to self.
Well, then missy. You better get your ass to the doctor.
Your really late on your yearly appointment. Yes, you do this every year. But it makes you a dumb ass, not a wise ass. And your mother won't come over until you make the appointment. And she is just as stubborn as you, so you know she won't budge. And eventually your mother will get Tom to join her club and he won't eat dinner with you until you make an appointment.
Wow, we are back to dinner, my favorite part of the day. I knew this blog would eventually mesh together.
All right Mom, you win. I'll make the appointment.
Check out the article on page 46. www.copingmag.com. I guess you could say, it's my strategy for coping.
Or surviving....because I have too much to leave behind.
Now, I must go eat all the icing off of the carrot cake that's in the fridge before he gets home.
;)
