Yesterday marked the beginning of my liberation. I’ve been planning this getaway for over a month. But it seems to have come at the perfect time. What began as a desire to slip away – to leave the place that I’ve been shackled to since this whole cancer thing started – has turned into a bit of an odyssey.
After saying a heartfelt goodbye to my dear dad who is staying in Seattle to care for sweet old Fargo, I departed my house in the wee hours of the morning – getting a luxurious ride to the airport from my trusty friend Sylvia. A half a day later I touched down in Boston where my high school friend Natasha waited in the family minivan. During the flight I momentarily wondered about my plans. I’ll be staying in a sleepy suburb outside of Boston with Natasha, her hunky husband and her three toe-headed kids. And the family dog. Then I’ll head over to Cape Cod to hang out with Christine and her fabulous husband and her gorgeous young girls. Then I’ll traipse up to Montreal to stay with Emma and her dreamy, French-speaking boyfriend. And her dog. And her cat.
In days past, the thought of spending my vacation amongst so much humanity would not have entered my mind. I was the girl who headed for solitude on a far-away island. Or a relaxing cabin in the woods with my dog. Just … away. But today, my inclinations have shifted. I no longer crave being apart. Rather, I want to be “a part.” A component of a whole. I want to belong.
So as I sit here typing as Natasha yells to her husband about getting the younger kids to soccer practice and talks with her older son about what he’s going to wear to his first dance – I am smiling from ear to ear. We spent the day driving around in the minivan – visiting a country vegetable stand. Meandering through quaint bookstores and eating a leisurely lunch in a bucolic New England town. Walking along a stunningly beautiful beach on Plum Island searching for shells. We just spent five minutes oohing and aahhing over Natasha’s little girl’s brand new cheerleading uniform. I could have watched her prance around forever. And then I showed the kids the miniature star fish I found on the beach. No bigger than a dime. And the look of pure delight on their faces … priceless. Inspiring, too.
And throughout my day today I have noticed that my spirits are slowly lifting. Whereas I left Seattle in a bit of a fog – still reeling from my fatigue and moods and none too happy about being chock full of new medications – now it feels like the wet blanket that has covered me for weeks is starting to fade away. Laughter has been constant. I feel like a part of this amazing family. I am looking forward to attending not one but three soccer games tomorrow.
This is new territory for me. I feel like I’ve been given a gift. A new interest in being amongst. With. And it’s only the first day of this adventure. I can’t wait for whatever’s next.
I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself! But 3 soccer games? Wow. Hats off.
xo, Annette
Truly lovely – enjoy like you’ve never enjoyed my friend xo