Life Events

This email was entitled “I am Alive”.

The rumors of my disappearance are not true. I am still alive. The vessel is up and running and everyone loves her. I am finally resuming a normal life once again but not quite there yet. In the past few weeks in addition to the whole new boat thing, my youngest daughter turned 16, my third daughter graduated from high school, my in-laws celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary and more! Most of the travel is behind me for a little while anyway.

I was viewing your text yesterday but was unable to reply as my phone finally broke beyond repair. I now have a new phone replacing my 5 year old model. That's pretty old in cell phone years. I hope all is well with you. Are you still employed? I have attached a grainy photo of the two vessels together. I will send lakefront shots once we have the opportunity. She's only been in operation for two weeks so we are still learning systems and continue to outfit her. Have a happy 4th!

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What did we do with ourselves before text messaging and email and blogging and Facebook and, for crying out loud, Twitter? Is every second so fucking important that we have to "post" about it? snicker, giggle...as I "blog" this I cannot help to think how ironic that whole line of thinking is.

Are we so fearful of our mortality that we simply MUST put everything down...right this very minute...in a virtual world that has taken control of not just our waking moments, but our sleep time too? Yes, I've gone to bed thinking, "wow, did I put enough food on those cooktops in Cafe World to actually open it up tomorrow morning at 5am?" The fact that I have a telecommuting friend who "checks in" on both my virtual cafe AND fishtank is, well, embarrassing!

I don't even have a dog walker for my REAL DOG who waits patiently at home, day after day, so excited and happy to see me and then loyal parks herself beneath my chair as I type this blog! She does give the lifted eyebrow look every so often to remind me there are other, more importants task to tend to -- but for now -- she's just happy I'm in the same room with her, a socked foot lightly brushing her back as she slowly falls back asleep...

A STARTING POINT

An epiphany in the bathtub led me to begin a collection of anecdotal tales that have been living comfortably on "a stick" -- you know that hard drive you carry around with a bunch of shit on it that maybe you must might need. Yeah, right.

Anyway, a longtime friend and former co-worker used to say to me “how is it that you can just talk to anyone – even when we’re riding in an elevator?”

And Shay, you had no clue did you? It seems that the shy little girl who could barely stand up in front of class and give a presentation morphed into the loquacious, energetic and somewhat bipolar creative writer who amidst a tub of bubbles thought she should “get it in writing” – so there you have it!

Of course this meant that I needed to “put it” into a digestible sequence. I had a boss once who wanted everything in bullet points – no long dissertation on a crisis – and that was a huge challenge. My creative writing instructors had always encouraged the use of language to be demonstrative and descriptive. To reduce the story of, for example, the drunk off duty bartender who fell over the rail into “bullet points” was akin to summarizing the Iraq war into a brief 5 page powerpoint presentation.

And then there is my knight in shining armor -- who loved to torture me in front of strangers by fielding a question from me and then sweetly saying, "is there a question coming, soon, anytime would be good."

yeah...there is...well...eventually...ah crap, what was I saying?

A Raison d’etre…

I was asked recently why now – this book thing – you’ve talked about for years. So what pushed you over the edge to actually sit down, give yourself a deadline and then carry on like a crazed babushka on a spring cleaning mission? Instead of my usually smart assed response, I really did stop to think about it. No, really – and quit snickering because I do often have reflective – or rather contemplative moments. Admittedly, that IS hard to believe but…oh bugger…where was I?

March 20, 1998. There, I’ve said it, put it to paper, taken it to task…think of any other cliché phrases that might be appropriate for facing your demons. And no, ma’am, this is NOT a book that will end up in the “Self Help” section – though I can certainly understand if it did. (And secretly I hope that it will create some sort of underground buzz amongst us “survivor” types!)

And now then, where were we? Ah yes…Friday, March 20, 1998. It has little significance for anyone outside of my immediate circle. And, actually, if pressed to name it, I seriously doubt that all these years later anyone can remember why that day started the clock for how my life was about to change

When I think about today, in this moment, looking back, yes I do still get a little miffed. Okay, angry. Maybe more than angry…I’m thinking serious expletives here but curbing my instinct to utilize them in printed form.

is your EDIT button activated? …roger that

I mean I had MY life all figured out then, didn’t I? The last thing I needed was an illness that could end my life. Oh you’ve heard it all before, haven’t you then? The “C” word…

The week or so leading up to March 20th was a Three Stooges funfest of doctor visits including an attempt to aspirate the tumor, a mammogram that couldn’t see squat followed by an ultrasound that had an image as ‘frozen’ by the technician to print out and give to my physician. When he walked into the room with “that look” – I just knew that the funny half-dollar sized blurp in my left breast wasn’t just going to go away!

The karmic joke definitely turned on the fact that I was trying to add to our family at the time. Pregnant, last I checked does not equal cancer.

So, following a thwarted attempt to see and be seen by a local surgeon, a frantic call to my then brother-in-law brought us to Friday, March 20th and a field trip to Stanford Medical Center – oh won’t this be fun? Are there surprises in my brown bag lunch?

and so...the journey began