FRANKLY, MY DEAR . . .

So many events are happening at the same time. I am also trying to stay uber busy. Less idle time means less worrying, because I am a born worrier.

We just returned from New York City, in celebration of my upcoming 50th. I was with five people who I love dearly and we all had such an amazing time. It was exhausting, but so much fun. As much as I ate and drank, I actually lost two pounds, probably from the constant walking. Awesome memories made with incredible people. I am lucky, but it has been a little more than that.

The end of this wonderful and memorable trip coincided with me reading the book The Last Lecture, by Dr. Randy Pausch, and it was the absolute right book to read on the eve of an appointment with the endocrinologist tomorrow. In the past, with an upcoming doctor’s appointment, I used to spend the time worrying about what the doctor would say, test results, and just deal with the self inflicted nervousness. Also this week, my father was remembered at Mass yesterday evening. RT and I went together.

The trip, the book and a new attitude since January, has focused me on the real part of life. Cancer doesn’t scare me anymore. There were two famous 50 year olds (big ass coincidence) that passed away suddenly, while in NYC, along with another older female celebrity who died from a long battle with cancer. None of these news items brought back the nerves, though at one time in my life, they would have. And, with my impeccable timing, Dad would have been 77 years old yesterday.

Pishaw!!! We only have an unknown amount of time on Earth, and everyone - no matter what age or what affliction - wants to live longer. I could sit here and worry about it, but what benefit would it give me. Zip, Nada, Zero. This is not to say it is not on my mind. The cyst on my lymph node is a precarious thing, but doc has assured me it’s happened before to other patients in the same scenario, and he seemed confident on what to do at our last discussion in April.

My attitude this year has been to be close to selective people, and be a little choosier on what I say to whom. I’ve learned to let go of hate, grudges and judgments, though they still slip out sometimes. The most definitive lesson I’ve learned is to let anyone else in the world say or think whatever the hell they want. It no longer matters to me. I finally got tired from thinking everyone’s actions and thoughts were really any of my business, or I could control them in anyway. Everyone is responsible for their own actions - not me. At times, it has been difficult, because some people really piss me off.

Dr. Pausch constantly talked of how he was living his life to the fullest, and as I read how he described his past, he actually achieved this before receiving his cancer death sentence. He lived; he loved; he experienced; he learned; he taught; he gave. Isn’t that what we all want when we check out? There were so many similarities in his thinking to my own, especially when you know there are active cancer cells in your body. I’m not sure if this makes sense to most people, but it turns your thinking around to what one’s thinking should be. We should appreciate the simple, and we should make plans to be with the people we love most, and care for people who need help. And then, we should cram it all in, as much as we can, while we can, and do it quickly too. This seems to be the sole purpose of humans, not to see who has what homes or cars or toys, who is popular or who is cool for whatever reason. Life is so temporary, and illness gives a totally humbling attitude on how brief life is. It’s not worth being upset with someone else or what they do or what they say. Facing mortality makes you wonder if you made the best out of the hand dealt to you. If not, is there still enough time to make it better or right a few wrongs?

Ah, there’s that forgiveness thing again, and that keeps my ego in check. Some don’t believe in God, but He has helped me through all of this. I’ve had a Mass said for Dad every year since his death 18 years ago. It makes me feel good that I remember him. I’m one of five that knew him as an adult. It saddens me sometimes, but I can only be responsible for my own personal regrets - not my siblings. Yes, I always cry, but last night, I had a completely different thought than all those other years. Leaving the Church last night, I told RT how selfish I am to be having Mass said for him. He suffered so much and so long with his health. I know he is in a better place, because anywhere is better than being in a coma for the last six months of his life, or battling a disease he had for 20 years. He’s not in pain, and he left the arduous fight for his body to try to miraculously come back. (?) What the hell was I thinking? I miss him, and it just seemed a little self centered of me to want him back here, when I know he’s so much better now.

In the great words of Clark Gable, “Frankly, my dear . . .” I no longer care about a lot of things. I once was my own worse enemy. I used to have spices in alpha order, and nothing laying around. I had to have a certain way of doing things, and washed my car every week. I cared what people thought of me. I now care about things I should care about. I left behind some (not all) the material things. I try to care about people and put myself in their shoes. I try to understand another’s struggles, and now know everyone here has been through something crappy. I try to forgive and apologize. I don’t always succeed, but I try. It’s been amazing to see my own transformation and how life no longer sucks, when surrounded by love - pure, unconditional, no bullshit love.

I really think it’s that easy. I don’t write this to convert or transform. I write this because it cements these ideas into myself. As with all of my writings, I write this for me. I am really the only one I need to impress.


“I’ll take an earnest person over a hip person every day, because hip is short term. Earnest is long term.”