Cancer

I've been thinking about cancer a lot over the last couple of years. I remember the good old days when I thought that cancer was curable, especially if you caught it early. Now I know better and I try not to be terrified about what the future holds. In the next 5 years, I will have a mammogram and colonoscopy. In the next 6 months I will see a dermatologist about some suspicious moles. I live in a cancer cluster. Somedays it seems that cancer surrounds me, and I feel one day it will get me.



It's been just over a year since Karen was diagnosed with cancer, and just over four months since she's been gone. I still don't understand. I have my moments when I can't believe she's really gone. Then some days I forget and remembering is just like getting that phone call early Sunday morning. Lately I have been remembering more than forgetting. This Sunday I am walking, with the kids, in a Race for the Cure Mother's Day walk. Karen's family will be there with me. Somehow my hubby got out of attending - striper fishing seems to have more of an allure than walking 5K with thousands of other people, tripping over themselves in the streets of Philadelphia. I'll deck the kids out in pink and bring the wagon and walk my 5K in hopes we raise enough money to cure breast cancer this year. I'll walk as long as I am able because cancer is not fair to those of us left behind.



I guess the trick to survive all these cancer threats is the overused phrase - each day is a gift. If today is my last day on earth, what would I like to be doing? I hope I can do something meaningful (not major) each day. I look forwar to simple pleasures - planting seedlings with a 6 year old, getting kissed the "English way" (both cheeks) by a 3 year old, relaxing with the hubby and enjoying the silence that follows bedtime. It's not earth shattering, but appreciating the small things is definitely a good start.