Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my 62nd birthday.  That's quite a milestone.  I had just turned 52 when I was diagnosed with cancer.  I dreamed, no,  yearned for the time when I would be able to say I was a 10 year survivor.  Now I have made it.  So much has happened in those 10 years.  I have seen both of my children married and the birth of five grandchildren.  I have learned my strengths and weaknesses and I have seen my husband's great courage when faced with crushing fear and the need to be a support for me.  He was, and is, my rock. 

My mother was 47 when she died of a massive heart attack.  That was years ago before the time of shunts, stints, balloons, cholesterol medication and modern testing.  We didn't know she even had heart problems, but then neither did she or her doctor.  It was sudden and totally catastrophic for us.  She was the one we all relied on and the one that kept us all grounded and secure.  We had no idea how much she did for us until she was gone.  I had been married a year and I wondered if I would ever be able to be the person that she was.  I wanted to be the mother that she had been to me, but was afraid without her guidance I wouldn't know how.  I was 20 and terrified.

I don't know if I have been a good mother.  We have managed to raise good kids who are proving to be wonderful parents, so maybe we didn't do too badly.  I made some blunders and sometimes I did it right, but mostly I just trusted on instinct and love.  I guess that is what we all do.

As I approached my late 30's I began to wonder if I would live longer than my mother did.  I began to exercise seriously.  I started running and discovered that I loved it.  I ate "heart healthy" foods and made sure I had all the appropriate check-ups.  As time passed and I approached my mother's age when she died, I began to think I had maybe prevented the same catastrophe from happening to me.  I never gave cancer a thought.  No one in my family had ever had cancer.  When the doctor told me the diagnosis I was completely dumbfounded.  I couldn't believe that this was happening to me.  I had done everything right--exercise, diet, the works.  Sometimes life just happens, no matter what we do.

It was then I discovered that I must have done something right in my life.  My children proved to be strong and supportive and, of course, terrified for my health.  My husband became my tower of strength.  I discovered that I had wonderful friends that would do marvelous things to help me through the fun of chemo and radiation.  I discovered a strength in myself that helped me endure the sickness, baldness, weakness, and dependence with, I hope, grace and a giggle.  In short, I discovered that I was loved. 

Sometimes blessings come in strange packages.  I hope I never forget.