A Rebirth

“The heart is a bloom.  Shoots up through the stony ground.”   ~”Beautiful Day” by U2

The weather these past couple of weeks has been simply remarkable here in New England.  Radiant sunshine, vibrant blue skies coupled with the emerging spring greens of new buds and eye-pleasing colors of fresh blooms of daffodils, azaleas and cherry blossoms.

There is an awakening in the air; a re-birth of the dormancy of winter into the hustle and bustle of our spring season.  Old clutter is cleared out by mammals of all sorts; new nests are built and dead leaves swept away.  Seeds are planted and seeds are eaten to fatten up the new offspring to come.  The cicadas are prepping to make their reappearance after hiding for seventeen years underground.

Dusting off Old Man Winter (and putting away the wools, the mittens and the boots) is as invigorating as a dive into the cold ocean.  Who does not come out of winter feeling twenty pounds lighter?

Spring brings about this rebirth and reawakens our core; a new sense of purpose sparked within our very beings and some of us are redefining ourselves.   After two tumultuous weeks of preserving my finer memories with my parents and saying my final good-byes to each of them; I find myself lighter.  The weight of dysfunctional relationships and hideous memories has been packed away, not unlike that of my winter gear.  I am ready to embrace the new growth within my emotional garden.  I will tend to the necessary pruning of my life experiences so the next generations of buds (my children) will be firmly rooted and they will blossom even more beautifully within their souls.

My children and my husband are also having their own sense of reawakening this spring.  All three of my children have a new sense of purpose:  new experiences and new opportunities in the activities they are most passionate about;  redefining relationships that are important to them or that alternatively hold them back; and each of them taking claim to a piece of their deceased grandparents to embed into the woven fibers of their innermost-being. 

My husband always comes “alive” in spring – something about the new season enlightens him and gives him the added energy to shake off the winter doldrums and seasonal affective disorder.  The longer days energize him and he helps to clear the “clutter”, not unlike the animals in their outdoor tizzy.  D’s perseverance and dedication to his job has paid off and he will be afforded a new opportunity to embrace his confidence, his self-esteem, and his sense of self-worth in the coming year.

 

 

My rebirth is coming in a much different manner.  2013 has always been about change for me; I proclaimed proudly in January that this year is ALL ABOUT ME.  I am coming to realize that it is a rebirth year for me.  Yes, I have closed the doors on the chapters to both of my parents’ lives recently, but I am drawn to some very significant milestones that are approaching me at lightning speed.

June 7^th is a monumental date in my life.  No, it is not my wedding anniversary (that’s May 25^th for those of you interested parties and yes, at 17 years of marriage at my age – it seems to be quite the statistic).  I finished chemotherapy that first week in June, back in 2008.  Congratulations to me, right?  Well, wait a minute and let me explain to you how this is even more monumental than you realize. 

The type of breast cancer that I had is referred to as triple negative – meaning that it does not fall into the typical hormone responsive cancers with the usual markers.  The triple negative sub-type accounts for only 15-20% of all breast cancer diagnoses and it has the highest rate of recurrence.  However, statistics show that should a breast cancer warrior survive five years past her marker (my doctor likes to use the date I finished chemotherapy, not my date of diagnosis nor the date I finished radiation), then chances are – statistics PROVE – that I will likely never have this cancer again. 

M.O.N.U.M.E.N.T.A.L.

YES!  Hoo-rah!  Whoopeee!  That little black cancer cloud that has been off in the distance, but yet, still here to remind me of my flirt with death will be cast away into the far off yonder in early June.  (Knock on wood, my Jewish mother would say). 

My little miracle baby that thrived in utero despite the constant poisons coursing through my veins and through her teeny developing body has turned five.  Her baby teeth have suffered as a result of the chemotherapy; however, the rest of her is insanely perfect in every possible way.  She is vivacious and absolutely full of life. 

 

Time to celebrate.  But wait.

Just six months later, I will be turning forty.  4-0. I was not crazy about turning thirty.  Little did I know with my insecure dislike of thirty, that a series of unfortunate events would allow me to turn around and embrace my age a decade later.

If there is not a greater time to throw a party and celebrate the act of living life, and living life to its fullest; a true rebirth if you will – well, I say it is now, somewhere after my five year cancer-versary and before my 40th.   My heart is abloom………

Who’s in?