Sunday, November 28, 2010

I don't know what cancer feels like

I'm writing, coming from a very long drive back to Dallas from home. A friend that also lives in Dallas, commented to me, "be careful driving back, I won't call it home per se". She is from Missouri too, and I understood what she meant. Missouri is where most of my family is, save a few that are scattered on the west and east coasts. But when I walked through the front door, and turned my Christmas wreath lights on, and the tree(s), and smelled the smells of where I live, I thought, but......this is my home. I fought that idea for the first two years after I moved to Dallas.
I don't think I'm doing that anymore.
My home is where I am. Where I live, work, play. I miss my family, especially around the holidays. But I'm lucky. I get to go home often, and they get to visit me here too. There are men and women serving in the armed forces that won't get to be with their families for the 2010 Holiday Season. That is just one example of why I feel lucky. I've never really been one to do the "woe is me" thing. Things may not be going exactly how I want them to be, at times. But, I constantly do the small reminder check list. I'm healthy, my job is decent, I like where I live, I have a multitude of friends, etc. The list can go on forever, I just check it every once in a while, adding things to it. I think that's why I usually cringe inwardly when I overhear someone complaining about something small, that in the big picture, really isn't the tragedy they make it out to be.

My cousin Serenity has cancer. Again. I haven't heard her complain one time since she found out this terrible news. If anyone has the right to scream, complain, throw themselves to the's her.
But she wrote a lovely blog post instead. Telling us, her avid readers, "How It Feels"

I loved it. After spending Thanksgiving Day with her, on the drive from one small town to another (the "other" being my early childhood hometown) I was looking at the gorgeous sunset, listening to music, and thinking, Seren wrote what she felt about how "it feels". Then I thought, but it's also not how "it looks" either.  I don't know what cancer feels like. I hope I never have to know. I hate that she does. But I think cancer is ugly. It should dwell in ugly, because I don't like it, not in the slightest. It should be drab with no personality. It should have no talent, no voice, no artistic advantage over the rest of us.

So what is it doing in her?

It's trespassing on her property. Where she lives, works, and plays. Her home. Cancer has NO place in the beautiful face you see above.

I want it to be evicted immediately. Served papers, and then shown off the property.

That is my Christmas wish for 2010, in case you're taking notes Santa.

Would you please keep Serenity in your thoughts tomorrow, and the next day, and all week? (Surgery, immediately followed with intense Chemotherapy) This is one solicitation that I don't mind doing. I'm sure you understand.
Thank you friend,

PS We have to meet somewhere for breakfast tomorrow, this house has not one morsel of food in it. Oh.... except coffee. And tea. These are food groups, yes?


WHITNEY said...

Beautiful post. I'll keep her in my thoughts. I always catch myself complaining about things like long-distance relationships or finances, but stories like your cousin's remind me to step back and be grateful for everything and everyone I have. Thanks for reminding me :) -Whitney

Tiffany said...

Hi Whitney! Thanks so much for commenting, and...thanks for keeping Seren in your thoughts. =)

Elizabeth said...
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