Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving at our house, like most everyone's I am sure, is a conundrum of food and family that is joy. Two of our non-college aged daughters go to a wonderful farm school. At this wonderful school they take Thanksgiving Dinner very seriously. Families of students fly in from all over the world to join the fabulous home made feast.
Every item on their community Thanksgiving table is from the school's farm and field. The students have had a hand in the planting, harvesting, and preparing of every delicious dish. They have even raised and um.... harvested the turkeys. This year, I was unable to join this magnificent and tremendous feast.
One week post-chemo, I have low white cell counts, meaning little chance of fighting off infection. I stayed at home with my very pregnant sister watching movies, drinking tea and enjoying each other, instead of hitting the big feast. The rest of the family had a wonderful time at school eating food that your great-grandma would have approved of, recognized and appreciated.
As soon as everyone was home, my sister and daughters got to work on our very traditional Thanksgiving meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Sauce, pasta and meatballs cooking....NOW it smelled and felt like Thanksgiving at our house! By dinner time, with the help of some medication, I was feeling mostly nausea-free, and so a cup of spaghetti was mine, all mine! Familiar and comforting.
This strange cancer battle looks and feels like a singular battle at first. This is very much the feeling while being alone in an MRI machine, PET Scan Machine, or in a very cold Operating Room with no personal effects (not even my wedding ring), lots of strangers with calming voices, but no family, friends or familiarity around. One victim, one foe.
If this singular feeling were the case at all times, I am not certain that this would be a battle that I could, or would want to win, notwithstanding the God-given instinct in all living creatures of a will to live. It is an overwhelming, harsh, unrelenting battle in which - if all goes to plan, and I win- I get to live my life with some pretty significant lifelong permanent adjustments.
As it stands, I will take those adjustments with a smile on my face and gratitude in my heart, for having been able to fight this battle alongside family and friends that not only want me to win, but are helping me to win. I am thankful, truly and deeply thankful, for a life surrounded by people and faith and love that gives me a passion for living, and now a passion for fighting the battle of my life.
Thank you for your ways great and small of letting me know that you are with me. For inspiring me to fight, for making me feel loved enough to want to win it. When I feel like a shell of my former self, and the transformation of the physical me seems to be taking the fast track, I know in my familiar soul that I have love (and a cup of spaghetti) and I am thankful.
Thanksgiving at our house, like most everyone's I am sure, is a conundrum of food and family that is joy. Two of our non-college aged daughters go to a wonderful farm school. At this wonderful school they take Thanksgiving Dinner very seriously. Families of students fly in from all over the world to join the fabulous home made feast.
Every item on their community Thanksgiving table is from the school's farm and field. The students have had a hand in the planting, harvesting, and preparing of every delicious dish. They have even raised and um.... harvested the turkeys. This year, I was unable to join this magnificent and tremendous feast.
One week post-chemo, I have low white cell counts, meaning little chance of fighting off infection. I stayed at home with my very pregnant sister watching movies, drinking tea and enjoying each other, instead of hitting the big feast. The rest of the family had a wonderful time at school eating food that your great-grandma would have approved of, recognized and appreciated.
As soon as everyone was home, my sister and daughters got to work on our very traditional Thanksgiving meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Sauce, pasta and meatballs cooking....NOW it smelled and felt like Thanksgiving at our house! By dinner time, with the help of some medication, I was feeling mostly nausea-free, and so a cup of spaghetti was mine, all mine! Familiar and comforting.
This strange cancer battle looks and feels like a singular battle at first. This is very much the feeling while being alone in an MRI machine, PET Scan Machine, or in a very cold Operating Room with no personal effects (not even my wedding ring), lots of strangers with calming voices, but no family, friends or familiarity around. One victim, one foe.
If this singular feeling were the case at all times, I am not certain that this would be a battle that I could, or would want to win, notwithstanding the God-given instinct in all living creatures of a will to live. It is an overwhelming, harsh, unrelenting battle in which - if all goes to plan, and I win- I get to live my life with some pretty significant lifelong permanent adjustments.
As it stands, I will take those adjustments with a smile on my face and gratitude in my heart, for having been able to fight this battle alongside family and friends that not only want me to win, but are helping me to win. I am thankful, truly and deeply thankful, for a life surrounded by people and faith and love that gives me a passion for living, and now a passion for fighting the battle of my life.
Thank you for your ways great and small of letting me know that you are with me. For inspiring me to fight, for making me feel loved enough to want to win it. When I feel like a shell of my former self, and the transformation of the physical me seems to be taking the fast track, I know in my familiar soul that I have love (and a cup of spaghetti) and I am thankful.
You are such a beautiful woman Ann!
ReplyDeleteYou have such a beautiful way of expressing your feelings. God bless you and your family. Prayers are being lifted up to the Lord for your healing.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Kathy
Ann Graham....my goodness! My lack of facebooking brings me such sadness today to hear of your struggle with cancer. However, I know with all of my heart that your beautiful strength and complete trust in the Lord will guide you to a prevailing win! We love you Ann and miss you with all of our hearts! Many prayers go out to you and your precious family. The California Murray's - Keith, Carol, Brenna and Will
ReplyDeleteDearest Ann,
ReplyDeleteI was back together with our family this past weekend. The last one for probably quite some time and being with them on Thanksgiving or any day is the best medicine and gave me a lightness of heart to begin my travel down the road to recovery. I am going to call my drive down the Northway the Yellow Brick road to see the wizard.
Do you know that your hope spills out of you and gives me the strength to finish this fight.
Maureen and her sister Cori went shopping for hats at 3 am Black Friday. I will be stylin.
Ann, God bless you and your angels. You are in my prayers each night when I sleep.
Mary Jo
Love your way with words Ann. Am so sorry you and your family have to go through this! You all are in my prayers every day. May God Bless you all!! Our Thanksgiving always has pasta too....so yummy
ReplyDeleteTHANKFUL INDEED. HOW QUICK WE FORGET OUR BLESSINGS AND/OR TAKE THEM FOR GRANTED...GUILTY! THEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU INSPIRES AND IGNITES THE INNER FLAME OF GRATITUDE THAT IS SEEN THROUGH YOUR EYES. THANK YOU GOD FOR ANN, THANK YOU ANN FOR GOD - FILLED INSPIRATION.....YOU ARE HELPING THE SICK WITH CANCER, AND THOSE WITH THE CANCER OF INGRATITUDE AND INDIFFERENCE. I DO LOVE YOU!
ReplyDelete