It's going to be another hot day... We are in the midst of the dog days of summer here in Parkville. I keep thinking that I mourned all I could during the four months I've been swimming in cancer.
I continue to change physically my lashes are almost gone and my eyebrows are faint but still there. I am expecting them to make their final exit in the next couple weeks.
There are tough days when the sorrow for my old self overcomes me, it's only normal to spend a lifetime with one person staring back at you in the mirror and suddenly that face and body is so altered it could be someone else. I was having a bit of a crying jag yesterday when I got into some old folders on the computer and saw me as a strong vibrant mother of three kids carrying jack in a kelty backpack and flanked by Joe and Soph we never missed a beat. I took them on many business trips we had some spectacular times.
... Now, I haven't been able to lift jack onto his bed to give him a hug before bed since March.
So I was having this pity party and resting my arm on Teddy which Jack so graciously loaned me until the cancer is gone. Teddy is jacks bear that he has had as his constant companion since he was four. Joe had Bruno the dog, Sophie had Tiny the bear, my brother had Moopie the rabbit and I had Neepee the kitty.
All loved and all retired now living in a leather suitcase in my closet. They all had their transformations during their lifetimes. By the time they retired the were no longer fluffy and cute but like the velveteen rabbit they where real because they were loved.
I remember the night sophies Tiny which I always thought of as British became a tad tex-mex. Tiny was sophies bear, she had grabbed him out of a stack of good will junk to be picked up from a house we were looking at to buy, she was two at the time - her little hand went right around his belly, she never put him down.
After a couple of years his arms developed a small leak. He appeared to be stuffed with little white beads like potpourri balls. I promised her that I would repair him and he would feel better by morning.
I had no idea where to get these white balls, I wanted to make sure that he was the same for her. Then I realized he just needed to be soft.
Beans! I refilled him with beans and stitched him up.. With yellow thread.
Tiny had foreign filling and scars but there was never more love then Sophie when she saw him in the morning. She didn't care about the changes to his thread or his filling. Yes he was a little different and now had some scars but to my daughter his life had been saved.
I am having one of those years, although I hope they arent stuffing me with beans. I am morphing daily as I go through this journey. I lose some they reattach some.
In the end- It will be me just with reinforced seams. My family will be able to love on me for a long time before I lovingly go into some big leather suitcase.
