Little Sis Taylor & the Journey of Tears

We can never go back to the way it was.

I can never, ever go back to the way it was.

Some may have read the above lines and immediately thought of COVID. They are appropriate, aren't they?  I think of teaching in this new world, and remind myself again and again that I will move forward.  Change.  

This.  This life.  My life. Since mid-June of 2019 when my diagnosis came my idea that days could progress they way I wished they would?  Shattered.  

About a week ago I started thinking about freedom.  I challenged myself to take photos of ordinary things that I usually don't notice, and how someone who lacks freedom - those in elder care, incarcerated, those who have lost their sight - no longer can experience.  Looking at these photos tonight I realize how magnificent details are.  Concerts, festivals, parties, weddings.  These are all monumentous.  The ordinary are truly extraordinary.  The things we all take for granted.  As well as the people...

Taylor Swift seems to know ***just*** when to release an album.  I joke that she's the little sister I never had, with her own emotional ups and downs that many times have mirrored my own, except with bank accounts in excessive digits.  Last night at midnight she released "folklore."

Peace.  

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darlin'

'Cause it lives in me

I have been losing my father for a long time because of CLL, and then Alzheimer's.  Now we are spinning towards a place.  A location where time, memories, at times logic, do not exist.  For my beloved dad, his life is the here and now.  Some days that here and now is simply what has gone on within the past hour.  Yet still, like tonight when I saw him, I catch a glimpse of that mischievous grin and a light in his brilliant, blue eyes that people have always noticed.  MausiGal and her dad somehow, within the mixed up particles of brain matter that he has, still connect.  He laughs.  

When I am sitting in the Swede mobile heading home, the tears.  I do not stop.  The sobbing where your nose starts to run.  My Irish skin, which I inherited from him, turns bright red.  

Forward.  I am truly blessed that right now, at this moment in my existence, I have those in my life who will move forward with me, to go into the unknown.  Step one.  Step two.  Step three.  

Love you all from the bottom of my heart, those who are on the journey with me.

xoxo MausiGal

Sammy Loves Sandi

My mother, Sandi, hates squirrels.  This fact has become quite well known, as she's put it out there on Facebook in various posts.  Why her detest of these cutest of rodents?

Her beloved gardens.  Sandi's gardens are her pride and joy, and with due reason.  When strangers pass her yard they ask, "Who does your gardening?"  It's her - all her.  My mother is the epitome of what can be accomplished when one takes their stress, frustrations, and loss of control and channel it into one their passions.

A relationship between mother and daughter can be tricky.  In films we see this dynamic duo portrayed with either extreme love and friendship or the height of hatred.  Sandi and I have gone through both.  I'll fully admit I haven't been the easiest hija to raise, with the idea of flying off to Finland for three months at the age of sixteen, and all sorts of other adventures I did to drive my mom to the point of extinction.  Having my brother and his friend bury me up to my neck in the sandbox in the back yard? Good times for us.  My mom? Not so much.

Years of appreciation and understanding of my mom have led me to see her the person she is - not the mother.  Sandi has a past, present, and future.  Her struggles with my father and his leukemia and Alzheimer's are always at the forefront, causing her to make sacrifices that she never could have imagined.  So often when thinking of mothers we consider them in relation to ourselves, as if the umbilical cord never detached and they owe us.  As children, our mothers are there for us; they're not human. Emotions? A life? Did they have one?  Are they people?  Coming to the realization of the strengths and struggles of my own mother has opened my mind.

Long Point by Lake Champlain - Years Past

Sandi and I are united through blood but also a bondage of mother and daughter.  I do know I somewhat torture her with my political rants, a lifestyle that consists of chaos, and snark that only I can deliver.  Over the years, though, she knows that this is MausiGal - complete with three dogs, two cats, three fish.  And I know she is the constant gardener, yelling at squirrels and banging on her kitchen window to scare them away, much like her father did years ago.  Sandi has also been here for me during the lows and the highs, and those flat lines in-between.

Mother's Day is not about the raising of children.  These twenty-four hours are meant as a reflection of the journey we have taken with the women in our life who have made us realize our greatest potential, the ability to grow, and the way to reflect and accept.

Sandi and I have the connection of Sammy the Squirrel, her "special friend" that visits her often.  Smile on this Mother's Day - and every day.  There are women out there who value you more than you could ever know.  And Mom - I am your biggest fan! xoxo MausiGal

Will I Die? Will I Fly?

I had the Blogger post of "Cancer Teaches."  That was really profound, wasn't it?

Yeah, and then on my first day of my radiation consult they found another lump.

"I've never known anyone going through chemo to get cancer again, but we'll still check it out," the doctor informed me.  An ultrasound.  A mammogram.  Six months from now, more of this.  The lump is there, and I can feel it.  Why didn't I feel it before? Seriously? Do you think I was doing breast exams while going through chemo? Do you check for cops when you've been pulled over for speeding?

My new mantra is, "Cancer Changes."  Yes.  Yes it does.  Lately I feel most at peace with my rescue dogs, Saul, Seal, and Chappy.  Each of them had to overcome horrendous conditions to survive, especially Chappy.  Above all? They needed to learn to trust after being abused, neglected, and left to die.

Die.

I wonder, how often, people realize that cancer patients of all sorts wonder if they'll die.  Of course it's the human condition that we all think of this.  Why would we not? But as I've said in the past, once one is diagnosed with a "situation," it hits you in the face that mortality is real.  It isn't the boogie man in the closet that stays there until you least expect it.  This boogie man showed up just as I got out of school.  Now the boogie man haunts me on a daily basis. I will be in the supermarket and cry about the thought I may not be around the see my sons marry, or have children.  That at the end of the day for seventh grade, because of my radiation treatments, I have started to forget names of students.  My energy level peaks around 1:30pm, and after that I am so exhausted I put on pajamas, despite the fact I want to do pilates, barre, and yoga.  I don't have a choice.  My body has decided for me.

I miss my kidlets like no other.  They are off, off, off!  I am so incredibly happy for them, and cannot wait to see them until we are all together on the most magnificent of lakes, probably months down the road.  My house is quiet, except for the squeak of Chappy's "Alien Toy."  The home that I once boasted I would keep for grandchildren now seems excessively big.

Crossroads.  Me.  Do I fly?  Or do I simply crawl and perish?

Here We Go KIDLETS!

The 802.  The Green Mountain State.  Where my love lies for so much of the year, even if I do pretty much only spend only four weeks out of fifty-two within the borders.

Lake Champlain.  How can you ignore it? A United States lake with its own monster and myths abound?  I grew up on this lake, each summer not only hearing tales, but being soothed to sleep by the sounds of the light waves against Long Point rocks.  We heard boats every now and then.  I speak to friends who summer on Lake Winni, and tell me of the ever present boats. Boats, boats, boats!  No, not on my beloved Lake Champlain.  Yes, we have our boats, but not to obscenity.  I always like to think that along the 802 there's some sort of gentleperson's agreement about boats and being kind. Am I naive?  Perhaps. 

In July I have quiet mornings on the lake.  I think about my year gone by, and what will be in the coming year.  The year for 2019?  This?  Truly difficult.  How can one define cancer?  I was comforted so many times by the images by the lake, but at the same time?

Cancer.

Cancer.

Up until recently, I truly did see myself as a badass against cancer.  I have all of my supporters (YOU!) to thank for that. Why? Honestly? I could never have thought of that on my own.  Although I had a few very rough days through chemo, you kept me going and kept me remembering how wonderful I was!

What happened?

You were still more than wonderful.  Gosh, I can never express this more than enough.  The cards.  The messages.  The gifts.  There are so many days where I would do is cry.  Why?  I felt I could never repay you or even find time for a decent thank you note.  Between getting kidlets for college, teaching, and radiation...I feel a failure.

But alas (gosh, that sounds so freakin' formal...), life changes and many times it changes for the better.  One kidlet is back at a Vermont college, and the other back at another.  What's my point?

You be you.  And ignore the haters.  Wherever they may be. Because in reality, they just kinda make you more and more like Taylor Swift.

That gal has her crapola together. Her lyrics? It's like middle school / high school / pregnancy on freakin' high drive:

"All the king's horses, all the king's men couldn't put me together again, 

'cause all of my enemies started out friends." 

So, there ya go.  Preaching from the heart.  Where am I going with this?  Bring it all back, MausiGal...

Kidlet is heading off again to his own adventure.  And I am letting him go.  But not without acknowledging all he has been through for the past few months.  Seeing his mom go through chemo  And severe chemo reactions.  Waking up at 5:00am with a hug to tell her she will always be loved and ok.  I am forever grateful for your care and understanding, especially at your young age.  I am sorry you had to go through this now -  so freakin' sorry you can never now. I hope it can help you somehow somewhere. 

Agreeing that her new rescue dog, a corgi German shepherd mix (no joke) that survived a head on car crash really is ok for her.  And that he is a cool dog, despite his metal plate in his leg and five screws. And drive him home from his pick up while you hold him, with his head on your lap, and cry that this dog finally knows he is safe...

Joking about memes and shirtless memes (you know the joke, kiddo).  

Knowing your sons - both of them - are both to change the world in ways that you just started.  You tried, to the best of your ability.  You would come home and cry that it wasn't enough. But you know what? You never realized that one day you would have two amazing sons that were there to fulfil every dream you wanted.  Both sons - near and far- giving you the most amazing support you could ever have, as you could only have it.  #blessed

Why?  It is NEVER because of you, Mausigal.  It is because you have two amazing sons who are off to change the world, even if its one person at a time.

In the supermarket.

In the classroom.

In the United Nations.

In the CIA.

Or in YOUR living room.

My sons are going to change YOUR lives.  And I hope you're ready for it. Why? Because I prepped them since they were born.

#bringtheword

#loveyouall

I Love You Said Emma

Today was to be my first day back at school after my long absence due to cancer / chemo / all sorts of crappy side effects.  However, New England weather had other plans and here I am, doing more planning at my computer.  I'm excited to return to the classroom!  Cannot wait!  My colleagues, my students, the fun!  Seriously, I do get energized from my time at my career.  There are days that are tough, but those only add to the fulfillment in the long run.

When I left school at the end of September it came pretty quickly.  I thought I was going to be the warrior who worked through cancer.  I returned only two weeks after my surgery, and was determined to be there despite my chemo.  Once again, life had other plans.  I remember the day my hair came out in clumps as I stood at my desk, seventh graders in the room.  What was I suppose to do with a bunch of hair in my hand?  I remember the look on a few kids' faces as I was there, mortified.  I just put it in a tissue, tossed it in the trash, called a colleague, and cried in the hall.  During that entire day my hair had been falling out continuously, but never in front of the kids.  They knew I had breast cancer; I had spoken to all my classes with either the nurse or their guidance counselor.  The reality, however, at that point was right in my hands.

Once I made my decision to take a medical leave, I decided to take a few things with me from my walls that touch my soul.  One of them is a drawing my niece did when she was younger.

This is my all-time favorite that Emma has done for me.  It's us, hanging out.  We are both rockin' pretty cool outfits, and of course have smiles.  Above all, "I love you said Emma."  I can be having a rough day and just need to look at this on the wall.  Everything changes.  Emma, a warrior in her own right at the age of 11.  Love you, too.

Vermont.  On Lake Champlain.  When my own kidlets were in middle school.  Before Dad had his serious issues.  Mom's smile.  Sunshine.  Love once again.

This makes me think of each and every summer.

And this.  My statement of teaching. 

Dreamers and disruptors.  Be different.  Take risks.  I don't know why I didn't leave this up to inspire my students to see it in my absence.  Perhaps I wanted to guide them while they take those risks?  To help them dream and disrupt. 

What was breath-taking, today, though, was when I opened up the folder to see these items that I will once again hang on my walls tomorrow, is there was a clump of my hair inside.  To see these strands of blonde was to be taken back to months before my journey really began.  I had no idea how my world and outlook would change in just two months.

And still...how much life will change as I move forward back into the classroom tomorrow.

Cancer There!

Me as a baldie!  

Sometimes, you need to embrace who are even when you may scare people.  But of course I'm talking about adults.  I'm not about ready to walk up to little children with my bald head and scream, "Boo!'  Baldness in women, I'm finding, is a unique thing.  Hence, I wear hats.  Dope hats.  And when needed? The wig!  Yes! Formal events call for the wig!

But hats? For me hats seem to be where it's at.  I feel free. And I've already talked about my love of Savers' hats!

Love is funny.  You never know where you'll find it. It may be in the guy that lives next door.  Or the co-worker you've been joking with for months.  Your friend from college that made you snort laugh over your chemistry notes.

Love isn't just the pseudo-romantic "I want to do you!" type.  It's the college roommate who jokes about the funny times.  Your sister-in-law who knows the family jokes. Your colleagues who remind you of how you of how you always throw the topic off topic.  And all of a sudden, the cancer seems like a side dish.  Kind of like limpy broccoli.

The strength i bring from from others is immense! I could write a book about it, and maybe I should!  From the many wonderful hats I received from Carol to the package from Cathy that made me smile for hours.  I had the coffee tonight!

At what point is one burnt out?  I don't know.  I am so thankful for all I have received.  I cannot say it enough.  And this is only 1/4 of what I have to say. #soblessed

"Did This Happen To Save My Life?"

"You know, Feronia, there are some days that I just want my life back so badly.  Then I try to think, "Did this happen to save my life?" "

Cancer teaches.  That was my last blog post, right? Oh so thoughtful.  But in the reality of it? Am I ready to tell you about how my scalp that looks like the planet Venus?

Probably not.  Or that my finger nails break with just picking up papers sometimes?  Or that I vomit with a piece of toast in the morning?  Two cups of coffee, my past love, now sends me into complete nausea? 

Today I cried in the bank safe deposit box room.  Why? I had something to leave to Kidlet A and Kidlet B in that box.  Yes, I'm sure I'll be ok.  But at the same time, have you ever had all your hair fall out - your legs, armpits, eyebrows?  Have you had people afraid to say the "C" word around you (and I'm not talking the other one, either!)?  Have you felt like this weird, special group, but at the same time detest the color pink with all your heart? Instead you'd rather be in all black, with a crossbow or a Darth Vader hand, heading dead-on at CANCER. 

I have received so many pink items, and I value them greatly.  They represent a sisterhood in strength.  But at the same time, after going into Dana Farber and seeing all those other people suffering from cancer, I feel such a need to reach out to all those people who need help.  Learn how to pronounce Esophageal Cancer.  Lymphoma.  Pancreatic.  Ready to wear all those ribbons?  The ribbons aren't just pink.  Lavender is for all cancers.  Please don't think I'm unappreciative.  I so am!  But CANCER!  It is everywhere.  And so many of us are fighting it.  We're not just wearing dank hats from Savers to look retro.  But this hat didn't come from Savers.  It came from Volvo.  You know me and Volvos.  Pride and Joy.  And Pikachu came from an amazing friend.  But I love Savers.  So there ya go.

So back to the title that I texted today, "Did this happen to save my life?"  I am a TypeA personality.  Not to make you vomit (sans chemo) but perhaps I was given this by G_d to stop and smell the roses, allegorically.  To realize that I was doing 95mph in a 55mph, and needed to slow down.  That saving the world should come second to saving myself.  Because, in reality, I cannot save anyone until I have helped me.  There ya go.  Did I say that twice?

Pulling out of the Market Basket parking lot one of my favorite songs came one - ""Saturday" by Fall Out Boy"  These lines.  Cry.

And I read about the afterlife

But I never really lived

Guess what, peeps? Me.  It's time for me to think about living.  Outside of a job.  Expectations of others.  And experiencing all there is for me to see.

Love you all,
MausiGal