Friday, May 13, 2011

Eight Years

Millie is a Youtube fan in this one - hilarious. More of my videos here.

The apple tree in my backyard is afroth with blossoms. I open my eyes in the morning and gaze at it through the picture window in my bedroom. For the moment, anyway, I feel lucky about my life. I have a husband who loves me without reservation, a stepson with whom there is little of the typical teenage drama, a network of loved ones who care about me and show it. An apple tree and a garden and creative work. Not to mention the cutest poodle in the world. And, gosh darn it, for the most part anyway, I like myself too.

It helps that my hair is coming back, that my energy isn't bad, that I'm counting down so quickly now to my last chemotherapy treatment - just three more to go.

When I first found out I had cancer I thought about the the relationships I want to deepen or repair, my unfinished projects, the gifts I want to give. I weighed the measure of it all against the prospect of a shortened life, letting go of the parts that involve watching loved ones age, and my own romantic visions of old lady-hood, deep wrinkles and rocking chairs.

Eight years, I heard myself think. I can do it all in that time. Just give me eight years.

It stunned me to realize that all my goals and dreams seemed doable in such a short window of time. It surprised me that I was capable of such a humble wish. But most of all, it spurred me. Whether my life turned out to be short or long, there were things I really really wanted to do. It was time to get busy.

I am busy.

And I'm realizing one more thing: If everything I ever want out of life can be accomplished in eight years, then I'm thinking way too small.

How about you?


Kerry said...

I once read quote, (but don't quote me)...I think around the turn of the century (the 20th) by the president at that time..."everything that can be invented, has been invented"...(or something to that effect).
It struck me so funny, thinking that electricity, indoor plumbing, TV, man on the moon, just to name a few events...never sell yourself short, not that you large and love life...never stop trying...Peace~

Anonymous said...

Amy, there is such seriously deep contentment here. I find a certain grace too in terms of how your treatment plan has synched up to the seasons, the most intense of it being in the cold, dark, snowy days with you beginning to feel more energy and health now in the Spring.

I continue to think that you have, with your vlogs, a very compelling full feature documentary.

Big hugs from weather-less, season-less, California. :)