Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit. I remembered to say that this morning, the first words from my lips. It is a good luck verbal talisman that somehow arrived to our household when the kids were little, but their Daddy was the only one who usually remembered to claim it each first of the month.
Today is Labor Day, 2014. I am fifty years old. I have had one hell of a year. Here are some of the things that happened surprise birthday party for my 50th, lost more than 40 pounds, found about 10 of it again, became terribly ill with joint pain and debilitating exhaustion, was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, started injecting toxic yellow-green liquid weekly, suddenly needed a pill organizer, started and learned a new part-time job, began having hot flashes, took several terrific vacations, got engaged, teetered on the edge of debilitating depression, zumba’d sometimes, laid in bed sometimes, cried a lot.
Here’s what I’d like to do in my fifty-second year [I think that is what you’d call the year after you turn 51- my menopausal/chemo brain is math impaired]: go into full chemical remission, get my groove back including all my energy, straighten up and clean out this house, plan a wedding, run a 5k the whole way, lose the last 20, become addicted to running.
On July 31st, seems like a lifetime ago, I said good bye to Facebook for a month. I didn’t really miss it much. Here is what I learned during my Facebook fast:
- you can get your news in other venues than FB
- Facebook is a very bad habit like biting your nails that sucks time away when that is the one thing of which we all need more
- I used to use FB as a filler, something to look at when bored, and apparently I was bored about 38+ times a day
- I used FB to procrastinate
- without FB I actually began to read books again
- without FB, I am more engaged in life and other people [that should have been a no brainer]
This morning, my fast could have been broken, but it is after noon and I have not peeked yet. I’m not that interested any longer. I woke up and lay in bed reading this really great new book I am reading, The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty. It is a book about a woman in Australia who finds a letter addressed to her and written by her husband that is marked “to be read after my death.” She finds out a secret about her husband that poses the question, “how well can you really know anyone?” I have always known that we all have secrets– shadow selves… dark sides–and I tell Bean this all the time. I have glimpsed some of his shadows, but I am sure there are more. The detective in me wants to unearth them. My imagination is far worse than reality, at times, I am sure. It is perverse in the possibilities it proposes at times. It is full of stories waiting to be told.
And so, this entry is about looking back, but more importantly about looking forward. I am surfacing. I’ve seen that dappled light before, and it is a welcome sight.