Tomorrow's the big day: the third and final Team Mama Mia Appreciation Day (of 2010). In honor of the day, I wrote 25 thank you notes today, which I realize will not reach most recipients tomorrow, but makes me feel as though I expressed my gratitude in time for tomorrow.
I do truly want to thank so many people who have been on this shooty-shoot road with me since May. This is no particular order.
1. The objects: iPad, iPhone, bare minerals mascara, Jane Iredale moonglow bronzer, leggings and aaah, my warm ugg boots. Purple nightgown, happy chair (chaise), paper source in suburban square, dyson vacuum, electric kettle, and my beloved Harry Potter. Couldn't have done it without you guys.
2. The dinner peeps. You are some of the best cooks of the tristate area and beyond. We have been well fed, comforted and loved by you on a regular basis. From quinoa to kale to homemade soup to shabbat dinners to Christmas cookies galore, we did not, in our wildest dreams, imagine such generosity of spirit when we asked for culinary help. You have relieved stress and helped me look forward to mealtime again. My only concern is that Judah now asks, "Who's bringing dinner tonight?" in place of, "what's for dinner, mommy?". Oh well.
3. My friends. I only hope that I can be as good of a listener when it's my turn. I will try my best to remember as many dates and appointments in other people's lives as my friends have paid attention to in mine. The cookies, the cards, the phone calls and emails - even though I wasn't always able to chat or write back, just knowing I was being thought of truly did help me to feel less alone.
4. My family. Whenever I start to feel pitiful and ask myself,"why me?" I turn around and find the army that is my family (extended) behind me, and I realize how lucky I am to have such incredible support from all directions. Just the mere mention of the need for caffeine sends loving aunts over with instant coffee. The writers I'm related to are usually the first to comment and lavish praise over my writing (maybe because we're related, but who really cares?). They send soft and mushy foods along with hugs and kisses. They text me and leave me happy messages cheering me on, even calling from around the world.
5. My child. Even as I type this I begin to sniffle. Although today you wouldn't have known how thankful I am for him (HAD to leave house. ALONE.), I know I am one lucky mama. I had a part in making the finest little boy I've ever known - he's loving, smart, friendly, clever, expressive, and oh so dramatic. His smile lights up a room and there is no one I know who doesn't smile right along with him. "Mommy? I'm so glad you're home!" Music to my ears.
6. My husband. Aw, poor guy, he takes the brunt of my every mood (and usually doesn't benefit from the good ones), takes out the trash, pays the bills, AND goes to work every day. As if being married to me isn't enough of a full time job. Daniel, I'm so glad you're home. I will never forget the day I knew it was going to be you (even if it took you a little while longer to figure it out). I wish to the moon and back that we didn't have cancer in our lives, but I'm so thankful you're here to kick it out with me. You are the best husband I could ever ask for, even though I don't say that enough. Olive juice.
I'm sure I've left someone or something out, so when the book comes out in hardcover, you'll have to read it all over again to look for the new stuff. Can you imagine there are things I didn't blog about?!
In the spirit of appreciation, I of course must thank my doctors, nurses, patient coordinator, acupuncturist, massage therapists, aesthetician, chiropractor and even for all of the other special people dealing with or surviving from Primary Mediastinal Large B Cell NHL. Words cannot express how grateful I am to live in a time of advanced medicine (but we can still do better, science people) that has given me such a good chance at blowing this lymphoma out of my body.
Tomorrow, as you play with your child or go to work, drink your coffee or FINISH MY KITCHEN, please take at least 60 seconds out of your day to congratulate yourself for being a good person and helping to contribute to my very own healing and recovery. While I know there is no guarantee that only solidly good people are reading this blog, I have a hunch that most of you are nothing short of spectacular (as Judah would say), and you'll make up for the rest. Thank you from this one person to you many people. Apparently what they say is true: it takes a village.