october 16th – so much to say, so much to say, so much to say. . .

October 16th is a heavy, heavy day and I have many thoughts to share this morning.

First of all, I’m the person who takes forever to clean out my inbox and never thinks to delete messages from friends. Example:

Yes, that is one inbox with 684 and another with 2,111.

However, I am so grateful now that I often don’t delete messages from friends after I’ve read them – and I’ll get to that in a moment (and my inbox drives my better half crazy – I promise I’ll clean it out this week, baby. =D ).

Quickly, though, as the plague has been upon us, I am STILL up and down. This is ridiculous. As I just read yesterday about the first terrible flu death in Florida, I realize flu season is getting started – and I am going germaphobe for this one. Our past few days have looked like this:

We ran out briefly – then back to bed.

Mineral water by the gallon.

Henry sticking close as always. He’s the best.

A few days in bed really brings out the beauty. #fixitjesus

Basmati brown rice with grass fed butter. Simple.

And now I am cruddy, with a kickin’ headache again. Good grief. But. . . rest – and more mineral water – and onward I say.

Yesterday, the 16th, was the first anniversary of our dear friend Ryan’s cancer diagnosis. After he was diagnosed, things were a whirlwind and he was gone on October 24th. Still unbelievable. So it is a hard hard day, especially for his wife, my bestie, and I would do anything to fix it. It just guts me that I can’t.

As I was looking through my phone and my messages, I found this that he sent me a month before he was diagnosed, when I had just stopped working as a nurse and was going to nutrition school and he just kind of instinctively knew I was struggling with not working anymore – and it made me smile:

He is so loved and missed – and this absolutely fucking sucks. I just HATE it.

No need to go to clutching the pearls. It’s okay to be honest. And I have had enough.

In those closest to me, I was with a dear friend constantly as she died from ovarian cancer at 38, we’ve had to say goodbye to Ryan way way too soon, and I have two precious friends in their thirties fighting stage four breast cancer.

Just yesterday, on the 16th, one of those dear friends, who I love so much, learned that it has spread and my heart is in a million pieces. She is fighting like hell and I am praying so hard. I. Hate. This.

So I’m all in my feelings right now.

And I’m sure I need to tell you all to participate in awareness walks or runs or something. And, yes, absolutely do.

But that’s not where my heart is at the moment.

Spend time with your people. Don’t worry about the mess. – I’m so glad we had the best parties and game nights and dinners out. I’m only sorry for the few I didn’t have because I couldn’t get my house together. Now, if my bestie wants to come by, I really don’t care if I can’t even find the couch – I’m a spoonie and we are in the middle of rearranging rooms, life happens – I want to see her beautiful face. Hell with the rest of it. Your people don’t care. They want to see you.

Take pictures of everything. – My grandmother used to drive us all crazy with her camera, always taking pictures, no matter the occasion. Then, one day, I turned into her in so many ways. Funny how that happens. Take pictures, even if you are not wearing makeup or having a fat day or have the snots. It really doesn’t matter. And smile for goodness sake. They will be fabulous to look back on over the years. And your people who love you want pictures with you. And celebrating time together is so important.

Save things. – Don’t be in such a hurry to delete and clean out. It’s so wonderful to be able to look back through cards and texts and memories – just not to a Hoarders level please. 😉

My last thought, as my pain level is also kicking – with the plague and because it is raining here – is a bit of grace. I read the wrong chapters in my quiet time – because they were the chapters meant for me, I think. This verse came my way and I haven’t seen it for awhile: