my blog is not a goldfish. i didn’t forget you were here, waiting for the little flakes to fall like tears from a star.
i’ve spent the better part of today looking for myself, wondering what happened to me, if i might remember, and so that i don’t forget again. there have just been so many days in such a very long row that i’ve been lost, lost to myself, to my family, my friends, my neighbors, to you.
this afternoon i put in a few more hours working on my office. i found some of my tools in the garage. i’d missed calling them mine. i found spools of ribbon in a cabinet and remembered the christmases, birthdays and weddings i’d gotten them for. i hung rolls of pretty wrapping paper on freshly painted rods while listening to music i hadn’t heard in far too long. i heard forgotten memories in long-loved lyrics and found little bits of myself tucked into drawers, hidden away in boxes and slid between the pages of books.
the room isn’t finished and neither am i. i have so many things to do. i hear a thousand projects and unanswered thoughts calling my name. perhaps it’s here, in my own space, that i’ll be able to sort through them all.
i had a pet scan this morning. it should determine if i am in remission. it’s unheard results are weighing heavily on my heart and mind. it’s hard to focus when there’s so much to see through.
i still need help to get through most days, somtimes paralyzed by a fear that hangs on to me like a shadow. it’s hard to ask for help day after day. it’s hard to watch myself being consumed or idly slipping away. but even though i might not be all there, i am still here, waiting, just like you.











7 comments
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October 20, 2009 at 11:55 pm
Bess
Meow meow.
October 14, 2009 at 8:27 pm
Rose
I’m here, reading your blog and thinking of you and your fight. On Sunday I passed your blog along to a woman who was recently diagnosed with Hodgkin’s and is going to start ABVD on Thursday. I know you have some information you can share with her, to help her in her fight. (It might make you feel good, to help her…)
October 13, 2009 at 9:57 pm
Kayleigh
Oh my, that was so beautiful…you captured the experience so articulately.
I’ve been thinking of you and wishing you well
October 13, 2009 at 8:35 pm
mitzi
not sure what to say after reading this. i guess the best i can say to you is that you are not lost… just in the middle of this terrible adventure. sending love, prayers and hugs your way! xoxo
October 13, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Tantie
it’s so funny, because i think i was doing something similar at the exact same time. with our wedding in just a few weeks, i pulled out photos from your wedding
i remember it so vividly, like it was just a few months ago, not 5 years! there we are at your rehearsal dinner, giggling at god knows what, not a care in the world…
i’m really looking forward to living the flip side of that in a few weeks with you, and doing it knowing that you had good pet scan results and we can just giggle, make snarky comments to each other and enjoy the party
October 12, 2009 at 9:26 pm
Melissa
Big ((HUGS)) Jenn Michelle. I’m just far enough away that I can’t be there in person, but I think of you every day. You’re a beautiful, strong, and courageous woman who has been through so much in a few short years. I hope you find more bits of yourself each and every day and that you can find some comfort knowing you are not so lost as you have felt. Love you!
October 12, 2009 at 8:35 pm
Carrie
What a haunting blog! Though it may seem so, You are not lost, you just have been occupied with this terrible adventure and all that it entails. Once this chapter is finally behind you, you can reclaim the life that you sadly had to put on the backburner.
I’m sorry for the wait for such important news…I’m praying with you for a clean pet-scan!
Are you up to visitors? Would next week be OK for a day visit?