Visiting Hemingway's House in Key West

Hemingway drank and wrote about whales; Ginsberg tripped and wrote about God. Same thing.

Shore Musings

View from Our Shore House Deck

This past weekend, I took my 89 year-old grandmother to her beloved second home at the Jersey shore. Our shore house has served as a family gathering place for the past 23-years, and despite two decades of family changes (divorces and marriages, deaths and births, losses and hopes) our little house on the bay has remained a safe haven - a respite from our troubles.

Last summer was filled with hospitals and worry. My grandmother had major heart surgery, and there was a strong likelihood that she would not survive the operation. The fact that she and I were able to sit side-by-side at the Ocean together - finding joint solace in the rhythmic tide - was one of the greatest blessings in my life.

6/9/12: First Time My Grandmother Has Seen the Ocean in 5 years

Whenever I'm at the beach, I make it a point to go for a run with my soccer ball. Soccer was my way out as a kid; it kept me on a road toward college and away from a dark path filled with devastatingly bad choices. This past weekend I was able to push myself to complete a 3-mile sprint work out in the soft sand. It felt good - and then it hurt like crazy. 

"The ball is round. The game lasts 90 minutes. This is fact - everything else is pure theory." - Sepp Herberger 

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, Gary bought me new cleats and a soccer ball as motivation. Everything is different now.

This Thursday is another CT scan and Dr. Nash appointment, but for the first time Gary's not going to be there. I have a new life and new friends who are helping me pick up the pieces, but I'm tired of always being tattered. I just want to be that strong girl again, with a wicked left shot - full of fire and anger. I feel like I'm always chasing the ball, but just can't seem to get it under control.

I know these emotions are "normal" and probably even healthy to an extent. Thursday will come and go. It really doesn't matter what they find or don't find... there's always another underdog match around the corner.

Christopher Reeves said "either you decide to stay in the shallow end of the pool or you go out into the Ocean." I guess I'm trying to build up the courage to wade out into the terrifying awe of truly living again.

15 Things

Birthday Wish for Myself

I have been neglecting things.

My writing, my students, my friends, my family - they have all managed to slip just beyond my outstretched fingertips...

I wish I could  tell you why. But I can't.

Sometimes I feel like I hear a kitchen timer in my heart, ticking down the days - hours - seconds until my next surgery (which has been scheduled for July), or my next MRI or CT or TVU - or any other medical acronym that brings with it paper gowns and poisoned injections.

My baby sister is becoming a doctor. She has finished 2 years of medical school and is studying for the boards. Tomorrow, her big sister turns 38 and I'm still sick.

I wish I could be positive. But I can't.

Sometimes you grow tired of having to see "the bright side" of things all the time, and just want people to let you sit quietly alone in the rain. Teachers and cancer survivors don't really get to have bad days ...  people tend to look to them for reassurances that their own lives will turn out fine. It's a role I'm usually very proud of, and pretty good at... but not lately.

I know that it is important to actually go through things - not just around them. Guess I'm just trying to get through things the best I know how.

Joseph Campbell said "Life is without meaning. You bring meaning to it. The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be. Being alive is the meaning." The fact that I can take a breath on my 38th birthday is in some ways the biggest testament to my life and it's meaning. So my wish for myself is to breath a little more deeply and little more peacefully in the future.