The Muse Is Alive

The Muse Is Alive

I know it's been more than a year since my last blog. In part, it's due to the fact that I fell so far behind, I didn't know where to pick up. But the Muse is beginning to twist and turn inside me, so I'll just give it a go.

First of all, an update on "the relationship," which has now become a formal engagement, complete with a diamond ring. Looking back, it feels as if we've been together for years, instead of a little over a year and a half. David and I have become very much a part of each other - and of each others' lives. We're still living in our own homes - still discussing alternatives - and dreading the thought of having to sort through more than a combined century's worth of accumulated marital "stuff." We spend approximately three days a week apart, and then share the remainder of each week at either his home or mine. It works - even tho' it's sort of a pain to be living out of suitcases.

I'm not at all enthusiastic about becoming legally married. I mean, I feel as if I couldn't be any more married with a wedding certificate. And it seems kind of silly to consider marrying at this stage of our lives. I don't want all the legal complexities, save for a medical Power of Attorney in the event that something should happen to one of us if we were traveling in Siberia. David has two adult children; I have three. I also have a Living Will - keep forgetting to ask him if he does. Our kids can and should speak for us. They know what we want.

In the meantime, we're having fun - doing some traveling, going out for dinners and entertainment, or just being comfortable in front of the TV with my dog in David's lap. (She absolutely adores him!) Right now, we're caught up in graduation schedules, with four grandchildren achieving this milestone within one four-week period.

And the love just keeps getting stronger and nicer. We keep joking, saying, "Who knew?" It's a source of constant awe and happiness.

And so, the seasons pass, all too quickly, and we keep plugging along. The after-effects of my cancer treatment, albeit subtle, still rear their ugly heads every now and then. I'm beginning to doubt my energy level will ever return to what it used to be - and my "chemo brain" leaves me searching frantically in my memory at times for names of things and people. I've often thought that we've kind of been fed a bill of goods by the medical community. You go and get treated for cancer - mine was pretty typical treatment: surgery, chemo, radiation - and you think, "Well, that's it. I'm 'fixed,' and life can return to normal." Considering that I had what I'd call a "mild case," this was my expectation - and it turns out that I was wrong on so many levels. Two o'clock hits every day, and my body screams for sleep - an hour's nap, maybe 90 minutes. I'll also forget what I was going to say in mid-sentence. Duh! The doctor keeps reassuring me, saying it takes about two years for "chemo brain" to subside. I'll reach the two-year mark in one more month to the day - I'll keep you posted. And I also have days when I just feel "off." Nothing dramatic - not really ill - just "off" - and other survivors tell me this is to be expected.  Small consolation - and very frustrating - but as my late husband used to say, "It beats the alternative." And I never know what to chalk these things up to: chemo or aging. Both are possible.

In the meantime, I've had to bid a final farewell to more friends than I want to count, plus one nephew and one cousin-in-law taken from us entirely too soon - I've had the joy of seeing all of my grandchildren at least once - and, of course, the twins are a constant source of amusement and delight. (They're SO bright, and SO funny!) I've continued to sing - but had to miss out on the spring concert when I succumbed to Influenza Type A, not covered by the flu shot. And there is much to look forward to in the summer months.

So that pretty much brings things up to speed. This sort of reads like a "catch-up" letter to an old friend - but that's the way I feel about those of you who have continued to beg me to write. You are my dear friends, and I so appreciate your interest and caring. I'm off to bed, perchance to dream, and my wish for all of you is lots of love and good days to follow. Good night.