Skip to main content

Kiss Today Goodbye . . .

Not sure what musical those lyrics are from or even if I got them right - 'kiss today goodbye. the sweetness and the sorrow . . ." But that is the song I cannot get out of my head. Despite the fact that it's Christmas and there is a barrage of Christmas songs on the radio and stereo and everywhere. No Jingle Bells for me. Silent Night is mute. Oh Come All Ye Faithful has left my head. Instead the tune and words that keep playing are "kiss today . . ." or is it "THE day."

Whatever the correct words - the sentiment is one I am feeling deeply. It's not this day in particular that I wish to kiss adieu - but this year. 2010 cannot end soon enough for me. While there have been a few highlights - most of which I've blogged about - the low lights are what comes to mind when this Pollyanna thinks back on the year that was 2010.

Not only John's cancer - which colored nearly everything since he was diagnosed in February, but my sister Kelli's breast cancer as well. She was diagnosed just before Thanksgiving of 2009. We went into John's diagnosis and treatment with Kelli much on our hearts and minds. Thankfully, both John and Kelli are doing well and the overall outlook is good. Matthew's good friend, Kyle spent last Christmas and several weeks in the hospital recovering from open heart surgery.

With the success of the Saugatuck football team, I thought that at least we could go out of 2010 on a high note. But 2010 had other ideas . . .

Now, my dear friend Aimee is battling health demons. Just one week ago, struggling with the pain of what she thought was a severe migraine she went to the ER and within hours her world was turned upside down with the diagnosis of Chiari Malformation - while present since birth she only learned of it last week. She wanted to delay surgery - there were other options - but that was not to be. Tonight, she sleeps not-so-soundly at Holland Hospital awaiting surgery in the morning. She will spend Christmas in the hospital - I know it was something she wanted desperately to avoid. The overall prognosis is good - but why the hell does the road to a happy ending have to be so hazardous?

I am ready, oh so ready - to kiss this year goodbye. I know it's just a number and on January 1, 2011 that all the troubles, concerns and worries of 2010 won't go away - but in my mind it's really a new year. A new beginning.

So pucker up - and kiss it goodbye with me!

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Lefties and Other Exceptional People

I have had the opportunity to do a lot of driving lately - back-and-forth to Wabash College and to-and-from Holland, Grand Rapids and East Lansing. It's given me lots of time to think and ponder the greater mysteries of the world; like the purpose of life, why my thumbnails always break first, the speed at which a state police officer will actually pull you over for and the theory of relativity. Oh, not THE theory of Relativity - with a capital 'R", created by Mr. Genius Einstein. No, my own theory of relativity - with a lower case 'r'. Created by this less-than-genius mother of three and wife of one! My theory is that the absolute worst drivers are those that drive exclusively in the left lane (I call them lefties) and the ones that believe the rules of the road apply to everyone except them (I call them exceptional people). I call it my own theory of relativity because these drivers are relatively unaware of how to drive. You know the ones that are going the spe...

Poster Child for chemo and freak of nature

I made the comment to my oncologist last week, during my chemo infusion, that I could be a poster child for chemo.  "You pretty much are," she said. I have thus far been sailing through chemo, albeit like a sailboat stuck out in the middle of Lake Michigan when the winds die and it's not moving for three to four days. Because my primary side effect has been extreme fatigue for 3-4 days post chemo. Last Saturday, 2 days post chemo, I took my shower and got dressed and announced to John that I now needed a nap - that kind of fatigue.  And being a woman who has dealt with the fatigue of MS, I thought this chemo kind would be familiar and similar to the exhaustion I feel on a hot summer day where retrieving the mail (our mailbox is at the end of our driveway) while riding my scooter to get it  feels like I've run a 5K. That kind of fatigue. This is the kind that makes it difficult to even get up, needing a nap after getting out of bed. Well that might be a little ...

The meaning of success and how

I sat down to write today about being cast/boot free. It is a joy to be back to my 'normal' state of mobility - which is to say that I stumble and totter like a drunken sailor but at least now I'm not wearing a big black boot. Ahoy matey! But instead, I came across the above quote and being easily distracted, I began to think about it instead. (Heck, I'm tired of the damn cast and don't want to waste anymore time thinking or writing about it anyway.) It's a quote my Aunt Bonnie first introduced me too when I graduated from high school and it's come on my radar many times since then, but today for some reason it has given me pause. I laugh often, to be sure. I'm like the uncle in Mary Poppins - I love to laugh. I surround myself with people that make me smile and laugh and am grateful for a husband that still knows how to make me laugh. I'm not to sure about winning the respect of intelligent people, though. I tend to think out of the box and...