Friday, July 15, 2016

July? Seriously?

There's an interesting phenomenon that occurs in cancer survivorship: Live each day as if it were your last and before you know it, an entire year will zing by and you won't believe how little time you have.
How did it get to be July already? As I continue to plan, execute, and reflect on the Pro Leisure Tour of 2016, I am overwhelmed by how little of 2016 is actually left. My husband tries to do the impossible task of balancing my "carpe diem" lifestyle with Robinson family funding. He has a thankless job, and I have far too much good credit. Too often, I diminish his efforts because for 23 years, he's had his head down, nose to the grindstone, suffering from an overachievement complex that I am certain I fueled at one point or another. Don't get me wrong. I had my own nose to the grindstone for the first fifteen years of our marriage until I got cancer. Now I feel that I have a responsibility to reverse his performance-driven self by turning him back into the dirtbag he once was although he was pretty driven to be the best dirtbag I know. I'm sure that's why I am attracted to him given my own proclivities. Chalk it up to a woman's prerogative. or perhaps a severe case of entitlement that I blame on growing up in a ski town with far too little supervision, but we all need to enjoy life just a little more than going through the motions. I love my husband and my family and I have an overwhelming desire to live the life of a shooting star, blazing across the sky until I burn out. This notion of work hard, save hard, and sacrifice was really just a temporary condition in my mind. At some point, you have to revisit why you do all that working and saving, which in our case, was to enjoy each other and a life of travel, adventure and frequent napping in select hammocks. A large portion of people "save for retirement" which is a bit arrogant in my opinion. There are NO guarantees you will make it to 65 and by then (at least in my case), I won't have a joint in my body that doesn't hurt. I'll be lucky to manage a flight of stairs at that age let alone all the "retirement" plans I have. I've come to realize that today is the best me that I will ever be which means that their is a hierarchy of activities that need to be done before my body gives out.  We've had far too much bad news in this family regarding my health and loss, which makes it hard to keep time in perspective. While I don't anticipate checking out anytime soon, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't take advantage of every opportunity coming our way....(see what I did there? I know, genius right?)

Living this way has created a problem. I don't see the future anymore. I don't plan at all, which is why I'm usually late to every event and the reason I try to cram 15 things into a 10-thing day.  Missed appointments go whizzing by on a daily basis while I frantically text how I'm desperately behind schedule. I haven't figured out if this is due to chemo-brain, mommy angst and constant distraction or simply over scheduling. I've stopped caring about the future because I'm not certain I actually have one, and can't be bothered with uncertainties anymore. It's a bit troublesome at times because everything is last minute and I'm pretty sure that is why it's July already and I'm reeling from my sudden realization of time actually passing. It also causes trouble because most of my friends personalize my poor behavior as a reflection of their priority in my life. That's not it.
I'm just a flake.
As the days go by, my goal is to literally pass out in my pillow every day, exhausted from a day full of anything. I've lost too many friends this year. I can't, in good conscience, give up my fight to live each day as if it were my last because I feel I owe those who are lost to this world a duty to live, REALLY live, an extraordinary life and teach my children to do the same.

And so we go, shooting across the summer sky.

Try it out for yourself: if someone tells you that you only have so much time left,  watch time speed up. Those of you that have kids, consider this: only three weeks left until school starts. Some of you might be rejoicing this because you have teenagers, but some of you may see this as your last summer before they graduate/marry/learn to drive.....  Three weeks left to buy school supplies, new running shoes for P.E., sports uniforms, haircuts, and that last summer camping trip. Just watch. Minutes will seem like seconds.
And so goes the dilemma of cancer survivorship.