For the last hour, since Josh left at 5:30 a.m., I’ve been lying in bed trying to compose a thank you to my incredible, life-supporting, soul-nurturing community of friends and family. Such a feat might prove impossible because the list is so long and varied and awe-inspiring that my fear of inadvertently leaving just one person off of the list might out-weigh my deep desire to mention every single individual by name. Let’s see what happens…
The “composing in my head” started because I was thinking about this afternoon, post-chemo, which got me thinking about my Dear Maggie, who is coming straight from work to spend the afternoon and evening with me, until Josh comes home from work, whenever that happens to be. Maggie who has filled every nook and gap on our “needs list” like only a sister (or mother or spouse—and only a particularly wonderful sister or mother or spouse at that) would do. She calls me no fewer than three times a day. Swoops up my kids at a moment’s notice; drops off prescriptions; shuttles me about; creates gifts to be opened during chemo (the latest a bag with enough individually wrapped goodies for me to open one, every half hour over the course of treatment); and does no doubt endless hours of behind-the-scenes work, from managing the site to coordinating support via phone and email to updating out of town family to navigating the dozens and dozens of emails she finds herself cc-ed on because of her integral role in my family and care. I wrote of godsends recently and have found no better word as of yet to describe people like Maggie.
People like many of you who are reading my posts. Thank you. Thank you to:
Annie, for traveling here from the Catskills, twice, to take care of my family and me in the days following chemo (or in the case of this week, to spend some quality leisure time with me in the days following not-chemo!).
Joe, Andrea and John, for, between the three of you, driving more than ten hours to transport Annie (who has chronic back pain and can’t drive long distances) between Hunter Mountain and our house.
Nunia, for taking me to chemo today.
Jen Bernache, for taking me to almost-chemo on Monday.
Keegan, for dropping everything at a moment’s notice, more than once, and giving up an hour here, an afternoon there to take me to last minute appointments.
Barry for driving me to yet more appointments, dropping off scripts and generally being on call for just about anything, anytime.
Jenae, for coming up from Brooklyn tonight to take care of me through the first several days of this next treatment. For checking in on me constantly, constantly. For being, even from afar, one of the first go-to people on my short list.
Clover, for “saving my life” :)) by 1) taking my kids for their flu shots; 2) arguing with the staff until they agreed to let you, a non-family member, give your consent for said shots; and 3) stopping the nurse just in time from giving the mist—and thereby protecting my chemo-suppressed immune system from live viruses!
Clover, Jen Bernache, Cara, Renee, Emily and Phil, Michele, Maggie and Barry, Andrea and John, Laura and Josh, Nuni and Silver, Molly and Mosie, Hannah and Greg, Eric: for inviting my kids to be carefree, happy kids in your care, entertaining them for hours on end (and letting me be miserable in peace).
Jeff and Tala, Sarah Buttenweiser, Shawn, for grocery shopping for my family.
Cathy, Tricia and Tonja, Tala and Jeff, Clover, Janet and Mark, Kerry, Jen Reed, Mary Bates, Noel, Jain, Elanit, for dropping off delicious, nutritious food and seriously cutting down on the dinner-time stress.
Jain, for being so on it from the start, doing what had to be done to get me seen, and hence treated, asap. For all the visits and check-ins and the super cozy hand-knitted hat, too.
Karen, for sharing your personal experience and wisdom and books and head wraps and walking company.
Ms. Jenny Jen and Mary Ellen Reed, Michele, Keegan for taking my kids to school.
Tricia, for picking up my folks in Springfield and delivering them on my doorstep.
Aimee, for leaving your own family and driving up from New Jersey this weekend to take care of all of us until my folks arrive on Tuesday.
Julie and Debbie, for all your help navigating doctors and second opinions and treatment recommendations.
Terry, for taking such good care of my mom while she’s in Northampton, so she can continue to take such great care of me.
Marsha, for taking such good care of me.
Cousin Brian, for offering to leave your own family two hours away to be with my children after school.
Nancy, for signing up to pick up my kids, whom you don’t even know, to love and feed and distract them at your house.
Shawn, Angela, Elanit, Amanda and Eliza, Kai, Jeff, Mike, Cousin Stephanie, Cousin Caroline, Aimee, Joe, Ginny, Cathy and Josh, Amy, mom’s friend Michelle, Kathleen, Cory, Lucy, Julia, Katherine, Betsy, Bri Guy and Rachel, Norma, Mark and Nancy, Aunt Rie, Uncle Stirlin and Aunt Beth, Aunt Christine, Aunt Jackie, Aunt Marjorie, Davood, Peter, Jodi, Mica, Ellen Obradovic, Jo, Ann, Louise, Dina, Connie, Taije, Jason, Jannell, Jared, Rosie, Megan for sending one or more of the following: gifts, hand-written letters, repeated phone calls, inspiring emails, such love from near and far.
Margot, Mary, Jenae, for getting in your car and driving up from Brooklyn as soon as I gave the okay. And for secretly pasting photos and notes to be revealed over time when I open a cabinet door, the toilet seat (ha!), a closet. For being on the ready to walk me through questions for the docs; debrief information; talk me through hard decisions. And for making me laugh, so much, all the time. Such good medicine. Also, for the box from Amazon filled with YA novels and the stack of trashy magazines to help me pass the time.
Ellen, Kim, Gwen and Sarah for taking extra special care of my babies at Jackson Street, making them feel safe and loved and heard and thereby making me feel that much more at ease about my children’s well-being during this complicated time.
Mama and Poppy, for doing everything I would want to do for Harrison and Sophie if they ever found themselves in a similar situation. For making it possible for me to take a leave from work. For putting your West Coast lives in order so you can have an East Coast life for an indefinite period of time. Really, there are no words, but I think you can feel my heart and all its gratitude for both of you.
Josh, for doing everything, everything, every thing you could possibly do to support me. For singing “You are so beautiful” while you shaved my head. For telling me how strong I am and how proud you are of me. For washing and cooking and taking over the dreaded bedtime hour and changing the sheets and rubbing my neck and packing lunches and coming to all of my important appointments and refusing to sleep in the other room when you have to get up in four hours to be VERY ON and my restless discomfort is keeping you from sleep, but you still won’t switch beds because you don’t want to leave me. Thank you for all of that, my love, plus the 374 other wonderful things you say and do every week for me and the kids and our family.
I will no doubt wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night when I remember ten more people I wished I had thanked. Please do not take it personally, especially since, at this point, my brain is fully wonky from the drugs.