New Year's Corner

2012 was not an easy year for me. I lost one of my very best friends last summer. It was just a week after her 32nd birthday, and she was sick for only a few weeks before passing away. I really counted on her a lot, and I always imagined she would be around when we were little old ladies. We’d laugh and sip champagne, and rock in rocking chairs, and she’d sing tunes and play the ukulele, as she was prone. 

Having lost my grandmother the previous year, going through all of 2012 without her made it doubly hard. Holidays seemed rote and birthdays seemed a bit dull. My grandfather struggled with how to live life on his own, and we all hurt for him.

In the Fall, my mother was diagnosed with a pretty serious case of breast cancer, and since she's always lived what seems like light-years away from me, it was very worrisome to not be able to check in on her. The whole process of getting a major diagnosis is so disorienting, so utterly devastating, that it’s very challenging to know what that’s like and see someone I care about going through it. Its a very helpless feeling.

Sometimes when someone I care about says something accidentally rude or ignorant, or careless, that relates to my condition, I remind myself that I’m actually thankful that they don’t understand what its like to be living this stuff. The only way to understand is to have been there. Well, my mom has now been down a similar road. As always, it's a very isolating and unique journey for everyone, but so many of the twists and turns are familiar to those of us that have been down our own road.

I remember during my own diagnosis that I was so thankful, when all the options fell away and MS was staring me in the face, that it wasn’t a condition that required major surgery.  Granted, if the MS would be halted by something like that, I’d probably do it. My mom didn’t have the luxury of avoiding a grueling and exhausting treatment (or two). I’m not sure how she did it, but she’s come out the dark tunnel and is in the initial stage of remission, where they’re still watching her very carefully. And she’s still squinting from the light out here, but she’s out of that dark tunnel.

So, despite some major losses and pains, I made it through. And I’m fortunate to have a job, and a home, and a husband, and my pets. I’m acutely aware, actually, after a year like this, of these gifts in my life.

So 2012 crept into history finally, and shortly thereafter my husband and I adopted a new puppy, named Clemmy. She’s a lot of work, as puppies are bound to be. But she brings smiles and cuddles every day, which almost evens it out (ha!). 

More importantly, seeing Clemmy discover new things every day, learning how to navigate this big scary, fun world with new and innocent eyes, reminds me that there are more good things ahead in life. Even if I feel at times that I’ve lost so much, there could be a new and wonderful experience right around the corner.

Cheers to 2013!