After meeting with a genetic specialist and having another biopsy today (now on the other side…) and after a hard day yesterday spent with the breast surgeon and oncologist, I sat down tonight to a lovely cup of “Tulsi Spiced Berry Immune Support Tea” in a china cup my family members will recognize. On the box the tea came in, it says “SUPPORT” right on the label. One of my sisters gave me this tea to help build up my immune system ahead of surgery. I love the tea bag wisdom for this cup: “Grace is kindness, compassion and caring”. Despite my fears, anger, sadness and anxiety, I am aware of the grace that surrounds me.
I am overwhelmed with the kindness, compassion and caring of the people in my life who want to do something. The support I have from my loved ones, friends, church and work colleagues (far and wide) astounds me. I do not know yet what the surgery and follow up treatments will entail or if I will ever need a bra to support “the girls” again (not necessarily a bad thing in my book – a story for another day) but the SUPPORT I currently need is being provided in abundance and it is surprising me hour by hour.
Support has come in the form of quiet touches at just the right moment, kisses and hugs…including from my dogs.
Support comes with each text, voicemail, poem, email, picture, Facebook/Instagram message that comes through at all hours of the day and night and it even comes with silly glitter beer videos on Facebook (they exist!).
Support comes with flowers, cards, meals, and coffees delivered to my door. Support comes from the kindness of co-workers who are helping me with meetings and deadlines. Support comes from people willing to walk every step of this with me, even when it is hard and messy. It comes from the nurses and technicians that I’m already on a first name basis with. Surely it comes from all the prayers that I do not even know about.
Tissues magically appear when I need them. My house and car is cleaned. I’m driven to doctor appointments and I never have to sit alone in a waiting room or in an exam room. No phone call ends without “I love you”. Even my dogs seem to snuggle me more.
All this support is holding me and “the girls” up… and we thank you.
…Who needs a bra?
All my life I have felt the most myself when I am in, on or near the water, preferably the ocean. I went there today so I could feel that peace and feel like myself on a day when I feel nothing like myself.
It is the day after. It is the day after I was told “it is cancer”. With no history of it in my family, at 47 years old, I am now in a club I didn’t want to join. I have breast cancer.
It is the day after. There have been phone calls and texts, tears and lots of hugs. Telling people seems to be getting tougher as the reality sets in and as I absorb the loving reactions of those I have talked with. It is the day after and I am tired and this is just beginning.
But I want to tell you about the day of, the day I learned I have cancer. Just before I went to the hospital to get the results from my biopsies, I had a commitment to keep. I have been a reading volunteer in a Portland kindergarten class. The nurse had just called me before I walked into the school and I could tell from her voice that it was not good news. She wanted to see me right away. I told her I would come to the hospital after I finished reading to the class. I walked in the school with fear in my heart and feeling vulnerable. And then as I waited in the lobby, I felt a little tap on my leg. I turned and saw one of the little boys from the class. He said, “I remember you!” and before I knew it, I was being hugged. We walked into the classroom together and then I was overwhelmed with more hugs and big huge smiles. And I forgot about my fears and the appointment to follow. I cannot explain how those three words soothed my fears. “I remember you.”
It is the day after. If I did not call or text you or come by to see you today to tell you in person, I want you to know that if we are “friends” here it is because I remember you. I will always be ready to give you a hug and will be happy to see you. I am just at the point where individual conversations about the diagnosis is too much. So I write because that is one way I feel like myself. Writing has always been how I process and as I have the energy that is what I will do.
It is the day after. As I looked at the ocean earlier and then sat down to write this, I felt more like myself for a moment. We will see what tomorrow brings.
-Mug Up Mermaid
I love being with people who say yes to coffee after a meal. Saying yes shows they aren’t in a hurry to go home or on to the next thing… it says they want more. More conversation. More time together. More being in the moment.
Sometimes at the end of a meal, I’m the one thinking about the next thing I’m planning on doing. When a friend says yes to coffee, it has a powerful way of catching my attention and redirecting my thoughts back to whom I am with.
Recently, I was with a group of girlfriends sitting at the Top of the East. We were enjoying a late lunch after seeing a show. Everyone had finished their meals and out over Casco Bay the sun was lowering in the sky. The early dinner crowd was coming in and I found myself thinking about the laundry at home and the twenty other things I wanted to get done. And then the waitress came back to clear our plates and asked if we wanted coffee or dessert. I was already digging out my wallet to pay and then…one friend said yes to coffee. And with a twinkle in her eye, not just coffee, but Irish coffee. All thoughts of that to do list went away and I found myself saying yes along with the others.
And just like that, I was not in a hurry. I sat back with gratitude for the friend who by saying yes to coffee, kept this circle of women together a bit longer. I realized that saying yes to the coffee also meant we were all saying yes to each other. We were saying:
Yes, you are important.
Yes, you make me laugh.
Yes, you matter.
Yes, you are loved.
So, cheers to friends who say yes and remind us that staying in the moment matters. And a bit of Jameson doesn’t hurt either.
Recent real life mug ups remind me about something I have often thought and written about…that we all want to be asked…we want to be chosen. We want to be asked to sit next to someone on a full bus. We want to be asked to be on the kickball team with our best friends. We want to be asked to go on that first date. We want to be to feel included. Being asked means someone picks us. We were chosen.
Tuesday afternoons used to make me feel lonely. From grade school through my confirmation, I went to “CCD” at St. Patrick’s Church on Tuesdays, right after school. CCD was the Catholic version of Sunday school, only it didn’t get you out of going to Mass because it was in addition to going to Mass on Sunday. For some reason, my family went to church in a different neighborhood than where we lived, so I did not know any of the kids at church or CCD. When my sister and I got dropped off each Tuesday, I would silently wish someone would ask us to join their group as we waited outside until the nuns called us in to start our lesson. I didn’t know anyone and those five or ten minutes (but it felt more like hours) before CCD started were so painful. I would try to look content to stand with just my sister, but inside, all I felt was the disappointment of not being chosen.
Yes, we all want to be asked. There is someone in your life that would love to mug up with you. Maybe she is the coworker that eats lunch alone. Or the neighbor you only see pulling out of her driveway very early every weekday. Perhaps the colleague that shares interesting stories when you get to talk for a few minutes before a meeting. Or the new friend on Facebook that seems to have the same warped sense of humor as yourself. There is someone so busy taking care of everyone else that she seems too busy… but in reality, she would love to sit still and hold a cup of coffee and be listened to. Maybe there is someone you admire and you have never told him. Without a doubt, there is someone who would love to be asked to join you for a cup of coffee.
The main thing about a mug up is that it is meant to be shared. Look around you this week and find that person who needs to feel chosen. We all want to be asked.
-Mug Up Mermaid
Today’s Mug Up is all about movement. What do you need to move? Who is living and breathing movement into your life?
4 days into the New Year, I kept my resolution to MOVE. And I asked others to move with me. In the middle of an actual blizzard, I woke up from a nap and asked the Captain to go for a walk with me. With a bone chilling cold temperature of below 20 degrees with 40-50 knot winds and snow hitting me right in the face, we walked along the tidal creek. I MOVED. We looked at how at high tide, ice sheets had pushed their ways onto the docks of our neighbors and could not be moved.
As the sky grew dark, we walked back up the hill to home. On the way, the Captain told me to close my eyes and to just listen. Such bliss in that quiet, snowy moment. A missed moment if I had chosen to stay comfortable in the warm house, out of the storm. A missed moment if I had not asked him to go with me. A gift of movement. As we got to our front yard, I fell to the ground in gratitude and made a snow angel. I was able to MOVE and make a snow angel. Snow fell on my cheeks and I felt kisses coming down from heaven. Movement.
6 days into the New Year, I kept my resolution to MOVE. In the middle of a cold snap of below zero temperatures and even worse wind chills, I got out of the cocoon of a warm bed and went to Yoga. I had asked others to go to Yoga with me so I had to MOVE. -4 degrees outside and I warmed up my car to MOVE. Driving to Portland I was anxious about what I might not be able to do. I was anxious my body wouldn’t move like it used to. Would it remember the song of yoga? Walking in the door, some apprehension eased…hugs from the instructor as if it had not been years since I was last in her class… hugs from friends happy to share in the time together… With my purple mat beneath me, I became still. In a room full of people standing on their mats, I took a deep breath in, looked down at my purple mat, and exhaled as my body remembered how to move. And it did. On my purple mat I moved.
Laying on my purple mat, I felt strength coming down from heaven. Movement.
On the next day of the New Year, I will keep my resolution to MOVE. I will keep extending my invitation to others who might need to move. I will close my eyes and listen for the quiet, still voice coming down from heaven as it leads me. Movement.
Until next time…
-Mug Up Mermaid
Mug up: term used in coastal communities since the 1880’s to describe a coffee break or snack. Fishermen would gather to warm up and have a hearty meal. (Urban Dictionary).
Mug up: to study intensively (Merriam-Webster).
Do you want to mug up?
Here. A peaceful morning last fall. Since then, I keep looking at this picture. At first, I just really liked the color contrast and the visual reminder of a quiet morning. However, the more I looked at it, the more I studied it intensely, the more I saw an invitation and inspiration. So, let’s connect.
Here. Come sit and mug up with me. The water is warm. Slip out of your shoes and hang your feet off the dock. Let’s listen to the water gently lap the rocks on the shore and feel the wind brush off whatever is on our skin from the day before. Let’s speak of what is on our hearts and not of the stuff that fills our to-do lists. The lists can wait. What do you want from this sparkly, beautiful day?
Here. Your cup is waiting.
Here. Let’s mug up…
~Mug Up Mermaid