Hair Church Death

What to write about? I discovered that I no longer have hair on my legs, that's pretty weird. I noticed my arms a few weeks ago, but the legs are a new discovery. It makes me feel cold and pale. Maybe that's because I am pale and cold - we are getting some cold weather here. Today was one of those sunny late fall days that makes you think it's going to be warm out, but it wasn't.

Honestly, I only left the house to get to 8am church this morning. It was a really nice service on Christ the King Sunday. I don't know anything at all about the church calendar, but I am learning. This is the last Sunday before Advent. And I will find out what Advent is next week. I sometimes feel sad that I was raised without any religion at all. We had Christmas with Santa and Easter with the Bunny, but that was about it. I had some friends who went to church every week with their families, but it was such a foreign thing that when I went with them, it was like going to the theater. Now I sort of miss what I imagine is a comforting remembrance of an early experience with God. On the bright side, I get to have my experience now, which has been pretty good so far.

I have to say I didn't think I was going to post about God or church today. I thought I would post about my day - church, playing with Bennett, napping and being interrupted by Bennett and not really minding because she is so sweet. Once Pat found out that B was interrupting me, she put an end to it and I really got my nap. I am proud to day it was unaided by drugs. If you take 12 pills a day, is anything unaided by drugs? Good question.

I have been thinking about death a lot lately. Be warned, that is what I've been thinking about. It makes me want to run screaming down the middle of the road. I can actually understand why people commit themselves to psyche wards or go to spas. To get a break - or so it would seem that a person would get a break from themselves in those places, but I know it's not true. Which is why I am still roaming free and do not have a manicure. Julie says that I might consider truly accepting the idea of dying and then it just is one of many outcomes instead of just the latest obsessing. I thought I had accepted the idea of dying, and I am not afraid of being dead. I just can't wrap my mind around the actual dying part. The last breath part. And where is Bennett while this is happening? And how can it be that we brought this beautiful being into the world and she going to have to be one of those kids who has to carry the story of a mom who died when she was young. Will she feel like I abandoned her? Will she ever know how much I love her and how badly I wanted to have a child? I know Pat and her tribe of Aunties will help her know love and deep understanding, but I want to be with her and I want her to be with me. And how can that not be the way it's going to be?

I have no parting upbeat paragraph, I am sure a better person would. Mostly I feel like curling up and not leaving my bed. Luckily Pat won't let me do that. She is so good and I love her for it.

The Days Get Better

Ask and you shall receive, that is the lesson for me today. I asked my friend Ruth for help to better understand if I was lying (thanks, Mom) in bed because I was chemo-ized or paralyzed from fear. It turns out the answer is both, but she helped me work out a lot of my fear. It's hard and exhausting work to try to get to the kernel of what is going on. Nothing that is much of a surprise. Mostly afraid of the amorphous future and dying.

Fricking, fracking, wily fear. You are not welcome here. GO away.

And mostly it did. Thank God. I truly mean it, thank God. I was so filled with fear I couldn't really move without worrying that I was going to break. Literally break into a million pieces. I guess that what writers mean when they say someone is shattered. I felt like that would happen to me if I moved too quickly. So, again, there was crying and gnashing of teeth, then there was a peaceful walk around the neighborhood and some other realizations. I have been spending too much time by myself. What to do about that is hard to know. I am not up for a job, and mostly everyone has a job. I'll keep you posted. I bet if I don't feel like I am paralyzed by fear, it will be easier to get into the studio. That's being alone, but it's not lonely.

While I finished my walk I realized I would be home alone, so I called Pat to see if she could come home with Bennett. We all arrived home at the same time. A lovelier afternoon than expected, a nice time talking with Pat while Bennett consumed her weight in noodles. Some excellent soup and reading books to B before bed. That feels like getting my life back. What's nice is not feeling the fear pumping through my chest all of the time. I thought that was the chemo. I am very tired, a good physical tired, from the walk and the crying. It's a nice change from being stunned.