A.C- June falling

“I have to love these days in the same way I love any other. There might not be a ‘normal’ from here on out,” she responds. “These days are days. We choose how we hold them.” ~ Nina Riggs

As June falls away and summer lumbers on into the heat of long July days, popsicles and sundresses and fireflies at night, and my children have long tanned arms and legs and they jump headlong into the pool at any hour, I am considering this book, written by a woman dying of breast cancer. She is a poet and her words both mesmerize and haunt me. I am obsessed with reading her thoughts and I am amazed at the beauty of her struggle. Her thoughts make my head swim and yet, I FEEL her jumping and breathing and struggling and heaving through the slog of cancer - but still embracing and grabbing LIFE... and living LIFE... and it inspires me even more to write it all down. WRITE and BE and THINK and LIVE... "I have to love these days", because these are the days that just ARE. I can choose how to hold them.

I love that so much.

The other day, my Facebook group of cancer-fighting mommy-docs did a tribute to baldness, in honor of one of our matriarchal members fighting her Stage IV. I was amazed... simply startled by the beauty of all these women, bald and fighting their cancers in their own individual ways... each just lovely and radiating LIFE. So many with new babies.. all of them smiling and looking fierce and vulnerable at the same time. I was so moved. And I wondered why I wanted to hide.... and ever so slightly regretful I couldn't embrace it... but also so grateful to be past that stage right now. But I see now, too, how these women were just doing their best, living the days they had, finding joy around them, despite the pain, despite fear and the chemo and their shaven-heads. I must, I swear, I MUST learn to live this way all the time.

It's Friday night. I am finishing at the hospital. I just met a 96 year old man and he reminded me that he just really doesn't think he needs surgery on his hip, you know, "... because of my age". I smiled at him and I agreed.

I am going to go pick up my kids. We will laugh and talk and play and maybe swim... and I will rock in the chair in their room tonight and I will listen to them breathe and watch them grow before my very eyes and I will find gratitude filling my breath and my soul... and I will be still and know that these days are perfect, no matter if I have an overgrown garden and can't clean my closet and my hair is short and curly.

I will practice being still... and I will let grace quiet me.

These are my days.