Saturday, January 30, 2016

Lucky Cookie Number Seven

It's that day of the year where I think about what could have been and what is and I get all emotional and introspective and usually end up happy and proud of everything that has become of this crazy sugar-rimmed life.

Today, though, for the first time in seven large years, I realize that my life with TN feels distant. My surgery feels like a memory. I don't think about TN every day. I think about it probably a few times a week, but not every day. And I can't decide if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

I never, ever, want to lose touch with what TN-life was like. It keeps me humble, keeps me thankful. I never want to lose my gratitude for the pain free life that I have or the incredible love and strength that brought me to this day, seven years ago. TN played a huge part in the woman I have become. I can't forget that.

On the other hand, I have now spent longer post-TN than I spent with TN. That's a big milestone. Lucky number seven. And an entire lifetime--with two actual new lives--has emerged in the last seven years. I now spend more time looking forward than looking back. TN really is a memory.

I hope it stays that way. And in the meantime, I won't forget to see the beauty in the everyday small moments: a cardinal in the snowy backyard, the kiddos giggling in the bathtub, the pressure of Chad's familiar hand on the small of my back, the tiny sighs of my babies sleeping in their beds.

For the last seven years and the memory of the six years before it, I couldn't be more grateful.

Happy 7th Nerversary. 

Christmas Eve Day 2015
Marblehead, MA