I couldn't stay away.

I couldn't stay away. Even when I want to stay away from this journal, it calls to me. Things happen to me, something is said, a small, intimate act of compassion is shown, something ignites the story in my head. And the story will stay there in my head, getting told and retold to myself until I write it down. This story had to be told because I couldn't stay away from another place.

I couldn't stay away from the dr's office. I was in Raleigh on business, had finished up with plenty of time to visit my daughter and maybe do some shopping. But I found myself inexplicably driving down Tryon road. Suddenly, I was buying Dunkin' Donuts coffee and telling myself I needed to go by the office and pick up my "Fight Like a Girl" t-shirts from Courtney. The truth was, all of that could have waited. I could have stopped by another day, another time, but I just couldn't stay away. I couldn't stay away because I missed them....I missed them all.

I don't miss getting stuck or having my port accessed or having a good spoonful of metastatic disease reality given to me. I don't miss the waiting, the sitting, the steroid buzz, the squeaking of the vinyl chairs or the beeping of the IV pump alarms. I don't miss that whole process. I miss my girls. I miss Maha and Janet, Jennifer and Jan, Gail and Lynn, Caraleena and Courtney, Rebecca and even the girls in the lab. I miss them because they are the one group of people who really knows my heavy, crushing world of cancer. They understand from the depths of their hearts to mine what it is like to deal with the devil, face the darkness, fight the battle. When I walk through the glass doors into the offices on Asheville Avenue, no matter what the reason,
I have sisters waiting for me. We have been bound by something terrible and made into a family that is wonderful. Their dedication to me and those like me takes a raw deal and makes it an extraordinary experience. I just couldn't stay away because when I walk out those glass doors after a visit like yesterday, I am inspired, uplifted, and believing more strongly than ever in our paths, our destinies....and that I will be taken care of.

And I cannot stay away from the writing because they read these words. I cannot stay away when I know it touches their hearts...not when I know they shed tears....not when I know they find meaning in my words. As long as I can bring something to the table for them by writing, I will write. I need for them to know the depths of my respect and love for them. I need for them to know that I think of them almost every day and cannot find enough good things to say about them. I need for them to know every time they touch me and ignite yet another story in my head that goes round and round up there until I write it down. I need for them to know that even though they may look at me every now and then and think that my time with them is limited that they are one of the reasons that my time has been expanded, enriched, and made so meaningful and precious. They help me choose life and choose to live it flat out.

Janet gave me another blank journal yesterday. She knows the written word is my solace, my outlet, my therapy. She heard one of my very first journal entries way back in 2002, when she and I attended a writing workshop during a breast cancer symposium at McKimmon Center. I read it out loud to everyone who was there. I did not know Janet then like I know her now, and vice-versa, but she came up to me after the workshop was over and told me I needed to be a writer. She was the first to say it, even though I have heard it a lot since then. I have always poo-pooed that, as you know, until I broke down last fall and started these entries. She was right. This book starts the eighth journal of hand-written entries and she has given me four of them. I needed to be a writer.

So, you see, how can I stay away from all this.....the writing and the relationships. As much as I thought I needed a break, yesterday convinced me that I can never stay away for long. What would I do without my journaling??? And what would I do without my girls??? I cannot stay away for long because without them I am missing a deep part of myself and life is not colored quite so beautifully. And though I feel like I have fallen short of being able to describe how I feel about all the girls, God has the words for me:

"(I) continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope..." 1Th 1:3