In case you haven’t heard, my family has been hit with another cancer diagnosis, but fortunately this one has an excellent prognosis, thanks in no small part to David.

Brittany was diagnosed, not quite two weeks ago, with invasive ductile carcinoma — breast cancer, fortunately still stage I. The doctors say it is fast growing, with 94% of the biopsied cancer cells in the act of duplicating, so they aren’t messing around. Surgery will be this Wednesday, what Brittany is calling “out with the old and in with the new” — a double mastectomy and reconstruction all in one go. She doesn’t yet know if post-op chemo will be required, but overall we are very optimistic. (Updates on CaringBridge.)

David comes into it because it is nearly certain Brittany would never have discovered this fast-growing cancer in time, young as she still is, but due to David’s cancer and subsequent genetic testing, we learned that he and Brittany shared the same BRCA2 gene mutation, so she has had careful screening ever since. If you knew David, you know he would have laid down his life without hesitation for any one of his girls. That’s just who he was. In a way, it seems he did. 

So even out of the ashes of loss and in the face of current uncertainty, we are grateful. For the warning Brittany received, certainly, but also for who he was and how he continues to impact our lives. I still often hear his words of wisdom, his perspective-shifting observations, even his slow teasing, “How’s . . . that . . . tea?” when it’s obvious I’ve let it grow cold in the mug yet again. Poor beverage management, he called it. How he could make us smile. He still does.

I think Brittany got her sense of humor from him, and it is serving her well at the moment. Here’s an old favorite shot of the two of them, matching dimples and all.

And a few more, just because . . . 

What a dad. What a man. 

At first I was thinking I should apologize for the poor quality of these ancient snapshots, but who cares?  They’re just place holders for the real memories, flashcards that bring up not only the facts of our shared life, but also a deep resonance of togetherness that doesn’t end when life on earth ends. How I thank God for that! 

*I promise to pass along any messages of support for Brittany you leave in the comments. Or you can look for her page on CaringBridge.org. Your thoughts and prayers are — and will continue to be — very much appreciated. 

I’m sure we’re all quite ready to see the end of 2020. The challenges and even heartbreaks and tragedies have seemed never-ending. But there is a very real possibility that 2021 will be better, even if not immediately, so I’m hopeful about the coming days. Mostly, I savor every good thing I can find: waking in a warm bed to sunshine and blue skies, funny texts from the girls, phone calls from friends, music that makes me dance around the house, a full moon rising over the trees out back, memories of my beloved David that make me smile more than cry most days, . . .

Like many, I’m still physically isolated nearly all the time, although I do make the occasional quick dash to the least busy grocery I know. Today I took the many accumulated empty wine bottles to the recycling center and it was mobbed. Everyone was masked and politely keeping appropriate distance, but it was kind of fun to be among actual human beings, even in that limited way.  I do have the occasional book club on Microsoft Teams,  French lessons on Skype, poetry classes and family happy hours on Zoom, so I am VERY grateful for the technology that makes those connections possible.  

And after some conscientious limiting of contacts, I had the opportunity to keep Beckett overnight a few weeks ago, which, let’s be honest, reminded me there’s a reason people have children while young. Yikes. Non-stop energy, but so much fun:

My house is not dangerous, but it certainly is not childproofed. Beckett got to practice NOT touching things…. . . with varying degrees of success . . .

Christmas was different this year, of course. A socially-distanced dinner with Brittany and Andy, a masked gift exchange at Chelsea and Brian’s, texts and phone calls, but a lot of time alone, including the three-year anniversary of David’s passing. Still. Not all bad. 

In the midst of it all, I am grateful for new beginnings:  new books to read (as well as old favorites), new art supplies (thanks, Mom), a new jigsaw puzzle to do (thanks, Brittany), new wine to drink or save for a brighter day (thanks, Courtney and Chelsea), new poetry to write in my new OSHER poetry classes which begin again in February, new French conversations to have with my friend and tutor, Natacha (can’t wait to surprise Pascale and Jacky with my improved French when I finally get back to France), . . . Meanwhile, Natacha keeps me supplied with gorgeous photos of France. Here’s a recent one she sent me of La Rochelle (Merci, Natacha !)

Here’s wishing you joy in new beginnings and hope for a 2021 filled with peace, love, safety, health and all good things. Bless you, dear ones!