CHRISTMAS

   I have definitely been feeling sorry for myself the last several days.  And I have definitely been allowed to by friends.  One of my old "teachers"used to say, "At the bottom of every emotion is joy."  I have to agree.  I cried bunches recently.  Every time someone would say, "Merry Christmas.", I would cry.  Someone said to me that they hope I get everything I wanted.  I started crying.  What I hope or want is to go back in time 35 years or so.  What I want is that the diagnosis is a mistake.  Who wants cancer for Christmas? 
   So, after I whined and moaned yesterday, mostly to myself... I took myself out to walk.  It was beautiful out...Then some folks called.  My nephew called to tell me about his birthday the day before.  He just turned 16.  He said his birthday was wonderful.  His friends came over and they did a roast.  I guess it was harmless.  Then pizza.  He loved it.  It was/is such a big celebration since a year ago, he had to have brain surgery and we didn't know what the outcome would be.  He told me that he felt everything would be fine with me and that it looked operable, and that I had so much support for it all. Then my friend Dale called from California.  He was so sincere in asking what he could do and said that he loved me so much and was almost crying.  He said he would come and visit in the spring.... Then my friend Barbara called.  She has a friend who's a doctor and they talked at length about me... (me)  Her friend had so much to say about how simple this is ... and I have some other health issues that she talked about.  The doctor had easy nutritional ideas and felt all would be well.  Then, my friend Jan called.  On my voice mail she did some Christmas carol on her kazoo.  Jan has perfect pitch.  When we talked, she asked about all my doctor appointments.  Jan has taken me to every one.  She even sat in the room for the needle biopsy.  She was very fun to talk to. 
  Then I took myself to a candlelight service.  I never went to church on Christmas Eve, but my friend Kathy was singing and directing her choir there, and suggested I come.  It was so sweet.  Nothing dramatic or big.. They kept the place dark and the Reverend spoke quietly.  Brought me to tears... which is redundant, but I got calm.  Kathy sat next to me when she could.  Put her arm around me and held my hand.   It felt like a blanket of love.  
  What has cancer taught me?  Well, so far, that it's ok for me to cry.  And it's ok to receive love.  And that I am blessed beyond anything I could imagine.  As Blanche said in A Streetcar Named Desire, "Sometimes - there's God - so quickly!"