May 5, 2025

Cinco de Mayo will be a different commemoration for me from now on. It will be the anniversary of the day I found out I have breast cancer. 

I took the news pretty well. The radiologist's reaction to my ultrasound was pretty confident in that result, so I had already had my breakdown after that appointment and assumed the worst. My friends, as usual, were rock stars. The high school girls came over and made tacos for dinner and consolation. And, thankfully, I didn't have to put on a brave face for my babies. After 4-1/2 months, the kids had finally gone back to stay at their dad's. 

Next step is an appointment with the surgeon next week. That will be a hard day, I'm sure. Luckily, another friend, T, who just went through this last year, is going with me. Blessings in the darkness for sure. 

Rolling Back Downhill

So the weekend before my last post, I stubbed my toe while I was cleaning the house. Then right after I wrote the post, I rolled my ankle on my ex's uneven kitchen floor - same foot. Turned out that toe was broken. So any chance of getting off my butt and moving went out the window, not to mention I'd thrown my back out for the first time in my life - thanks 50! - so had been even more of a slug. Finally started feeling better and then I cut my finger with the hedge trimmer on the first real spring-like day.  Off to urgent care for stitches, thankfully, and nothing worse. Well, except the tetanus shot to go with it. I mowed the lawn for the first time and got sick from breathing in all the pollen, so back to no working out. To sum up, when I went to my annual well woman exam this past Monday, I had gained the 10 lbs back plus 5 more. 

I've been really worried about the weight because I've been reading a book about how obesity is the underlying cause not only of diabetes, but also heart disease and cancer. Obviously with heart disease being a factor in my family history, I want to get on top of it. Then I went to my mammogram this morning. I felt uneasy as soon as I got there. They wanted to do an additional ultrasound after the mammo which has been standard for me for the last 7 years; I have an area of dense tissue on my left breast. Todays ultrasound was a little odd - the tech asked me to hum. That was new. And concerning. When she came back in after I got dressed, the radiologist was with her, and I knew. He said there's a spot next to that dense tissue that didn't look good and he's pretty sure it's cancerous. They'll do a biopsy, hopefully next week, and we'll get a plan on treatment once we know what we're dealing with. 

I'm all cried out tonight.  I was mad and sad and scared all morning. I texted my closest friends asking for prayers that 1) it turns out to be nothing, and 2) if it is something, I can continue to work full-time and take care of the kids. They have rallied around me. I'm so blessed to have them in my life. 

I'm going to wait to say anything to the kids until there's more information. If I can wait until school gets out, I will - it's S's freaking senior year. She doesn't need this extra stress going into finals, and I want her to enjoy celebrating graduation. And R is going to nationals for forensics. Want them to be able to get through this last normal month of school.

The Blues

 Winter was brutal this year. When prepping for my trip to France in the fall (a post I started but didn't finish - hopefully, I will eventually), I had been working on my posture and getting steps in so I'd be able to keep up on excursions. I was in a good rhythm. At my checkup in December, I'd lost 10 lbs. Then in the middle of the month, my ex's house flooded and the kids came to stay with me 100% of the time. Which, let's be honest, I love. But it's mid-March now, and they're still with me. January and February were cold and snowy, and I was living like Grandpa Joe, eating in my bed under the down comforter every night with V, binge-watching the entire series of The Flash. The kids have only had 1 or 2 weeks of school without a day off, and now it's spring break.

Spring is doing it's thing where we have 70-degree days followed by a blizzard. The weather is on a roller coaster that my emotions are strapped into as well. I stopped going to family events this fall because I knew my ex had been dating a few people, and I didn't want it to be a weird transition when he finally had a serious relationship. It really didn't bother me. He has a serious girlfriend now, not that he's told any of us, but it's so obvious. I wish he would just be honest with the kids. And it's not that I want to be with him, but our 5th non-anniversary is tomorrow, what would have been our 20th, and it's totally bumming me out. To top it off, his house is finally being repaired and I mentioned I was working from home this week with the kids being out of school, and he asked if I could stay at the house while it was being worked on today, and because I couldn't think of a decent excuse, I agreed. Why do I do this to myself? Now I feel worse and it's noisy and uncomfortable because I don't have a decent workspace, and signs of his girlfriend and her dog are everywhere. I wish I knew what I need to do to get over it, but I don't so defaulting to writing for the moment. That's all for now. 

Hodge Podge

I haven't been writing. I started this post in August:

This summer I found myself in an unpleasant state. I was back to feeling bitterness and jealousy and anger toward my ex. I had moved past all of that months ago. Why was it back? 

I don't even know why, honestly. And nothing I did could shake it. As I'm writing this, I realize I'm ok again, but I think that's the thing about grief. It's not linear. Stages aren't absolute. 

- - - - - - - - 

Last winter I decided I needed to take the kids to Manitoba to see where my mom grew up. It's my oldest's senior year of high school, so who knows if we'll get a chance to go after she graduates? At first I was super excited - yes, the 14-hour drive was long, but I loved the time I spent at my grandmother's house at the corner of 3rd and 3rd in their small town, and out at the family farm, and at our aunt and uncle's place in Winnipeg. 

When I started really thinking about planning it in the spring though, I realized it wouldn't be the same for my kids.

I had book club tonight, and we were lucky to get to have a Zoom call with the author, Julia Alvarez. We read her book The Cemetary of Untold Stories. I can totally relate - none of my stories have survived. Anyway, it was a great discussion - she was lovely. One thing she said, which I've heard before, is that writing is a habit, a practice, a discipline. Going to try to be better about it. Again, ha.   

First, by finishing the post above.

When I started really thinking about planning it in the spring, though, I realized it wouldn't be the same for my kids. For me, going to Manitoba meant hugging my grandmother, staying in her home, eating her delicious food - homemade buns, cookies, and nanaimo bars, along with fudgcicles and mini sugary cereal assortment packs. Playing Ante-Ante-Aye-Over, Werewolf, dark tag, croquet golf, freeze tag, hide-and-seek with my cousins. Meals with all our aunts and uncles and cousins crowded around tables that had been set up next to each other to fit everyone. Seeing wash hanging on the clothesline in the sunshine, digging in the soft, rich dirt in the garden in summer. Playing in 2 feet of snow, dragging sleds to the toboggan run at the park in winter. 

My kids were going to a place they'd never been before. They were excited to go to a different country and eat "foreign" food, but meeting a bunch of people they didn't know and not really having much to do was not enticing. So I cut the trip down to three days - one in Winnipeg with a trip to a few Folklorama pavilions, one in Carman to see where my mom grew up and hang out at my cousin's house, and one at the lake to go fishing. That was the only thing V wanted to do - go fishing. Unfortunately, my cousin who was going to take us, got sick, so we didn't get to do any fishing. 

I don't think they loved it. It's a long drive with little payoff. But now they've been. They know a bit more about their heritage. Maybe someday we'll get to go to Scotland where my mom's grandparents emigrated from. 

Milestone

Photo by vuk burgic on Unsplash

I finished going through the last box of my parents' belongings today. It was mostly bills and paperwork so not overly emotional. Though my dad's "Story of a Lifetime" book was in there - a book we bought him with prompts so he could fill in stories about his life. He didn't get as far as he or we hoped, but it's still nice to have what we do. I flipped through it for a second and had to laugh. For the prompt "What were you like as a child?" He wrote: (perfect) 

I miss him.

And mom. I found a devotion I started but hadn't finished that was about the fruits of the spirit and under Love, I was supposed to put a person who exemplified that, and of course I listed her. 

I also wrapped up things with Mom's account in Canada which is a huge relief. Trying to get my affairs in order for my kids. So grateful to my parents for doing what they did, but there were still some tough loose ends. Hoping to avoid that for the next generation.  

Only Big Kids Now

My ex got laid off last August. He finally got a new job in February, but it's overseeing a plant on the other side of town, and one in Ohio. So he has to travel fairly often - hopefully only for the first 6 months or so. So the dog has been having to stay with me 4-5 days every couple of weeks. It's a struggle that I'll get into later. 

I preface the story with this detail because he had to go out of town the week he was supposed to have the kids, so I had them for two weeks in a row, so then he had them for two weeks in a row, which I did not like. I missed them too much. But they came back Saturday and got settled in. That night, V said he didn't need me to put him to bed; he'd been doing it himself the last few days. I knew it would probably happen within the next year, but I really wasn't ready. Between that and having taken S on a college visit early that week, my mama heart was proud, but sad, too. 

Tired of Being STRONG

In November, a boy from our church was riding in the car with his dad when they were hit by a drunk driver. Nolan was in critical condition. Blue signs and bracelets were made – #NOLANSTRONG. We prayed; we held a walk; we rallied. In the end, his little body was too traumatized, and he passed away. 

It was particularly hard on V. They weren't close, V was a year older, but ran in the same group. They had gone with a couple of other boys to a KU football game a few weeks before the accident. For a 10 YO to process this, on top of having broken his wrist over the summer, his ankle during the fall, and just see the frailty of life in general was a lot. I started taking him to the counselor I saw last year, and that has helped. 

Then this past Sunday, the Chiefs beat the 49ers in Super Bowl LVIII in Vegas in OT. With the weather being unseasonably warm in the 60s and all the new football fans (thanks to the Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce romance), S and I decided not to go to the parade. V was disappointed, but we went last year, so once I set him up with an opportunity to hang out at a friend's house, he was ok. 

I'm so grateful we didn't go. 

It was a beautiful day, Kansas City at its finest. Probably around the same number of fans attended as in 2023. The rally wrapped up outside of Union Station, and as people started to head out, gunshots erupted. 22 people were shot: 1 was killed. 

Half were kids. 

And then the posts and images of Kansas City Strong started showing up. 

I know people mean well. I know they want to support our community. We will heal. But we shouldn't have to. I'm so tired of being STRONG. On a walk yesterday, I told God I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm ready for him to come back. This world is not my home, and I'm done here. 

But it's not my time, it's His. 

So for now, I'll keep praying and trusting in Him and letting Him be strong for me.