Wow…another year has come and gone. Already. They sure do seem to fly by these days – and faster, yet, it appears – as you age.
Nevertheless, twelve months have passed, so it’s time to change the calendar, bid adieu to 2019 and all of its highs and lows, and celebrate the beginning of another trip – and another roller-coaster ride of a year – as we, yet again, set about another orbit of the Sun.
And opting for real-life over hollow resolution, part of the preparation for the New Year should involve three simple matters: reflection on the past; an introspective look at who we really are – and an appreciation for every blessing you and yours were granted over the last 365 days.
My 2019, for example brought Himalayan highs and Marianas Trench lows. But, thankfully, there’s always something good to focus on; I had a little good fortune in writing, met some folks who have become dear friends, and, generally speaking, had a fairly good year.
Except for the cancer stuff anyway.
The Big C.
Let me tell you, once you sit before a doctor and hear the word ”cancer” – and are then told its incurable (but only so far!), your life changes. Immediately and dramatically. I now have two lives: one BC (Before Cancer) and one AC (After Cancer). Between three bone biopsies, monthly trips to Duke for MRIs and PET scans, or testing, and, finally, spending three weeks in Durham getting a stem cell transplant, and the weekly rides to Laurinburg for chemotherapy, I’ve been poked, prodded, sucker-punched, and/or pushed into some bumpy situations.
But it did me good; there’s always good — if you look deep enough.
You see, I’ve found it’s only when the dark clouds approach that you learn the importance of some very other even more important “C” words….terms such as “Compassion,” and Concern” and “Consideration” – in their truest forms. And what COMMUNITY really is. The outpouring of concern via cards, calls, messages, Facebook posts, visits, delivery of home-made treats, financial considerations made to accommodate the expense of my travels and treatments, and such has been amazing. And actually far beyond humbling.
So, THANK YOU, my dear friends – far too many to list by name or contact directly – one and all for your role in helping me rebuild this imperfect beast. YOU made our year tolerable. Thanks to each of you, our Good Lord, my family, my dearest and greatest blessing, Judy, and the kind and knowledgeable folks over at the Scotland Cancer Treatment Center and up at the Duke Medical University Adult Bone Marrow Transplant Clinic, I’m hoping our 2020 will be a bit brighter.
And lastly, may the Gracious Lord Bless You and Yours this upcoming year with good health, safe and happy days and peaceful nights, the greatest gifts of all.