1. To improve my marriage
2. To improve our family's financial situation
My marriage wasn't horrible; it just wasn't what I knew it could be - what I felt it should be after twenty years married and twenty-two years as a couple. We were in the sterotypical marital situation known in longhand as "we-need-to-reconnect-renew-respect-get-on-the-same-page-before-we-really-lose-each-other" syndrome.
We'd each been growing, but not in the same direction. And we had been under the duress of having less than enough money (and ever increasing debt) due to hit after hit that I took in my freelance writing/editing career, beginning in the aftermath of 9/11 and gaining momentum as the economy fell apart.
My husband was on board to collaborate with me on preventing our financial situation from bleeding out. It was his idea to refinance our home, and without any other real options we embarked on an arduous regimen of exhaustingly intrusive, extensive paperwork that culminated in a decent outcome. The insane credit card debt (you know, for luxuries like groceries, clothes for our growing children and such) was gone. We had a doable mortgage payment. At last, at last, by the end of May we were breathing with some measure of ease.
And then came June.
My husband and I were seated across from each other at our dining room table. I was either working on a crossword puzzle, making a list or reading because my head was down when I heard him ask in a wobbly, garbled voice:
"Uh, honey? Um, what's this lump on my neck?"
"What-what lump?" I wanted to see it from where I was, assess that it was a pimple and discount the fear he was unsuccessfully restraining.
"Here, right here. You have to feel it."
His left hand was working over a spot on his right collar bone, and I got up to investigate. I felt it before I saw it, and an immediate flash of light-headed dread shot through me. It just...wasn't...right. It was hard. Immobile. When he turned his head to the left I could see it jutting out where it didn't belong.
I didn't make a big deal of it; told him that since we couldn't figure out what it was, he should definitely have it checked. Soon.
Our moment of shared intuition - something is definitely wrong - unfolded week after week as we spiraled our way down a medical rabbit hole. Chest x-ray..."spots" detected. Scans...more of the same. Biopsy... "Don't keep your vacation plans" (our first family vacation in five years thanks to the refi) "until we're satisfied that enough tests are in the hopper." More tests. Four days before our scheduled flight we're given the green light to go to Disney.
The day after we return, the news that "a spoonful of sugar" can't help us to digest despite Mary Poppins' promise: It's cancer.
The rabbit hole deepened with one complex surgery to remove the lump (like an iceberg, it was much larger in the unseen interior of my husband's neck than the bit that was visible from the skin's surface) and a seven-hour surgery to remove his thyroid, all the lymph nodes on one side of his neck and any other cancer that was present. We learn that it was "the good thyroid cancer," albeit unusually aggressive. A few weeks later an iodine-free diet goes into effect for a month, then radioactive iodine therapy, then...
Thanksgiving. And thankful we were, and we continue to be. Parts of this year felt like a pop-exam for which no study sheet or notes were provided. There was a sliver of fear: Can we do this from the shaky ground we've been living on? But with the courage to dig deep, we found our commitment to ourselves and we fortified it exponentially. Plus (yes, I must knock on wood), my husband has emerged very well from his physical trials.
Given what I resolved last year and how seriously the universe seemed to take me, I've been ultra careful when it comes to making resolutions for 2011. I've been thinking that maybe, just maybe, the resolutions we make with the most feeling behind them are the ones the gods actually set into motion.
With less than 24 hours to go before that New York City glitter-ball drops, I am finally getting some clarity on the matter. Earlier this evening I happened upon the website http://indestructiblefilm.com created by a young man named Ben. The website is named for his film, "Indestructible," about his journey with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). Tragically, Ben died from this catastrophic illness, but his legacy lives on in his film and other aspects of his website including his blog, in which his brother has made a few entries. One of his brother's posts really got to me:
"The most important thing I learned from my brother Ben, and the crappy disease he died from is this -
Life is short. Make it count.
That message permeates almost everything I do and believe. And when it doesn't, I can generally kick myself in the ass and get it going again.
For me, life is about laughter, being creative and endlessly exploring the world around me. Everyone has different details in the script, but the basic premise is the same. We all want to have an impact on something, and die proud of who we were.
Success can be measured by many things. Luckily, it is not always about money, but also by what kind of influence you have. 'Indestructible' has been, and will continue to be, a wonderful and important tool to educate people about a worldwide killer, about a man who faced his fears head on, and most importantly - appreciating life to its fullest."
So inspiring! With that I'm going to go create the feeling-fueled wording of what I set out to accomplish this year. If the results are story-worthy, I'll be writing here the same time next year.
Happy New Year!
~t~
P.S. Gratitude continues to flow from our hearts to every human and spiritual guide who helped us through this difficult year. Thank you, Beloved souls. Thank you. xoxo
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