Like I've stated, there's not a lot different about me today than there was three weeks ago. A few new scrapes and scars, a little weight loss, and the mediator voice in my head repeating what sounds like a countdown: ten, nine, eight... But really, nothing seemingly different.
The joke here is that so much has changed and this July 4th reminded me of that. I mean, the real me would have been working at some restaurant. Thanksgiving, Christmas, my birthday, all normal work days for me. But not this year. Heck, I guess if I want I could have every holiday off. I could go to each family event on time, with a date, lookin sharp.
This fourth, Jen and I went to her parents (two hours early). I borrowed a bikini (oh ya) from my sister, (one tit fit well) and dove right in. Sure I swam, snacked on finger foods, grilled up some salmon, caught up with the fam, and watched fireworks. But it was weird not asking for orders, sulking with coworkers about working, dressing in all black with a tiny logo at the neckline of my uniform. I had ol' fashion holiday fun. Nothing was missing except my normality.
While the day was coming to a close, saying our goodbys which involved multiple hugs, "I'll see you soons", and bagging up last minute goodies, I realized that as much as missed unlocking the front door and putting down chairs, coming up with the holiday special, and buying a round of shots for those that braved the work day with me, this new kind of normal was going to be just as meaningful. But that if I wanted it to feel like me, like me normal, I'd have to start my own tradition for these shared events.
I wasted too much time doing the 'not'-doing things, that I didn't come up with anything. But if you have something you tradionalize yourself as: the baker an infamous dessert, the bringer of the best pool toys, the entertainer of children, even the really snooty and slobbery ones... please share. All ideas are welcome. I am going to find the normal holiday me.
We all share the same goal, to survive. In my fight against breast cancer I share, with you, the pain and the pleasures.
I lit off massive fireworks with names like yo momma and I heart America and even had s roman candel war running a muck around the neighborhood! I of course was in the kitchen all day baking including my standard american flag jello cake frosted with fresh whip and strawberries amd blueberries to look like the flag;). Then headed to park hill for hott links, corn on the cob, pie, s'mores and let's not forget the water balloons I brought to drive all the parents nutz! Happy 4th of July!
ReplyDeleteThis is a very provocative entry. What are we? To our families, to our friends...I've always wondered. I think I'm loud, and I clean. But that's certainly not something to write home about, or bring to the table, you get it. Nicole, it's always been this way: everyone just likes it when you're there. You're laugh, especially. Don't try too hard. (But maybe we could both start bringing really weird things, like pickled pigs feet, and making people try them?)
ReplyDeleteYou sure pick an intense way of getting holidays off. I recommend something a bit less drastic like just a head cold or maybe a government job.
ReplyDeleteHi Nichole,
ReplyDeleteThinking of you lots these days. Thought I'd share... I like to journal and reflect around the holidays. Sometimes they're easy and fun, sometimes they're a little hard being away from my family, but with each holiday, I find that I'm not the same as the previous year's celebration. I've grown, learned, changed... I like to take a good look at that and ground myself in gratitude exactly where I am. I know you've maybe heard this a lot lately, and I hope I don't sound like a broken record, but reflection reminds me that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," and everyday that I'm here means that I'm stronger than the day before. That's why I like this process.