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Saturday, August 4, 2012

August 5 - In My Own Words

Let's get right to the point before I bore or offend you with some inappropriate banter that only I believe is hilarious just because I'm nervous about what I'm about to say.


I read this blog... Lil Blue Boo ... she's a DIY-er turned superstar because, well, she got (and is surviving) cancer- AGAIN- and she's like 30. So yea you can now witness my LACK of attention to certain specific details- but the ones that count...I get. Not only do I get, but I catch and they sting and they resonate, infect and overcome me.


So.. other than the connections I've made with other "Ashley (Lil Blue Boo) readers", such as my next door neighbor, some peeps from high school and other cancer survivor effect-ees who I had the "pleasure" of e-introducing her to, I have learned a thing or two from Ashley. She's nothing like me...NO-thing. I'm a pessimist by nature-  I'll be the first to admit that. If I got cancer- I would wither into a ball and rot. I'm also jealous and impatient, selfish and wicked moody (even my 3 year old daughter brings out the "Moody Cow" book when we've (I'VE) had a particularly rough day). So yea....she, Ashley, she got cancer, twice, and was seemingly so optimistic that she made me feel ashamed that I had to endure the horrific mundane task of loading my Keurig each morning. 


Yes I know I have it good- really good. I should have nothing to complain about.  


But I do. 






And everyone does.


And sometimes a group of people who are only connected by their one thread of sorrow, have something to complain about. Just let them. And support them.


So here I am- again. Feeling bad- feeling lonely- ALONE- left alone, and angry. And tonight I read Ashley's blog and I find two quotes that lead to this unusually personal and vulnerable blog post that make me feel differently than I ever had in the past.


The first is this:

"The truth is we all ache. We all have growing pains and wonder if we are okay and enough and loved."
-Sabrina Ward Harrison


My unsolicited interpretation: 
I'm not the only person with deep sorrow today- and neither are you. If you can make someone else feel better about your shared sorrow, well, you're doing two favors. 




And second:

"Write about your own experience. By that experience someone else may be a bit richer some day. Read widely of others experiences in thought and action–stretch to others even though it hurts and strains and would be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance! "
– Sylvia Plath



Yes- it would have been easier to read those words, allow myself to surrender to my memories, cry, and turn over to find sleep, but who is that going to ease? Certainly not me. Not the people around me wondering why I need to read Moody Cow again tonight. And not even the people who KNOW how I'm feeling today because they feel the same. 


So with that I decided to open up (to a certain extent) hoping to remind other people to be sensitive and kind. And remember that even after 14 years... or 5 1/2 years...or 26, this shit is hard. And our experiences as very young, impressionable people shape who we are today more than if we were mature adults.  Not only should we embrace that to make ourselves stronger, but we should understand that to support each other. 








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