six word memoir

Perhaps you've seen them.  Six word memoirs, written by the famous and not.  I've reviewed some, and the majority could be classified as "bittersweet."  Not quite "life sucks," and not "oh, what a joy!"

Last night I thought about this, instead of sleeping. Rich is on a downward slope this week (it's snowing as I write, so please forgive the ski imagery) and this wakes me up. Maybe it's a cold he can't shake that's draining him, or maybe the new pain in his calf is the sign we haven't been waiting for.

The memoir title that emerged:  "Eat. Sleep. Wake Up.  Not Now."

Another trip to NYC in two days.  Rich says he hopes he can walk.  The world is shrinking.

Another memoir title:  "I Lied.  Chordoma: Not a Dance."

Candace

calendars

To know something about the life of others, look at their calendars.  I'm not speaking about content; the calendar is sufficient.  

Myself as example.  Growing up, all the calendars in our apartment were of the free religious genre, supplied by a funeral home (in truth, what better reminder could there be of the preciousness of each day?)  

Over the years, the themes of my calendars have been various religions and feminist and humorous.

But this year, none of them would satisfy.  I am weary of observing a particular year and numerous holidays that only remind me of what I don't believe.

So I found a blank calendar.  Really blank.  In its grid I can fill in my own days, dates, year, holidays.  If I wish, I can ignore weeks and months.  

How it's working:  Each week, as I fill in the days and date (I haven't been able to skip any so far, which says a lot), I must think:  What is my rhythm?  What is important?  Of what am I aware?

I haven't yet renamed the days or months, or filled in my own holy days.  

But this I know:  I am free -- not the calendar.

Candace

not good news

So it wasn't a bagel.  The news from our trip to MSK is this:  Deeper growth of tumor in spine.  This may, or may not, explain Rich's increased arm pains.  Advice from the neurosurgeon is to keep on with Sutent until pain increases or migrates elsewhere.  This presents Rich with the choice of hypochondria or awareness when transcendence would be preferred.

Candace