(This video was made on November 9, 2023, shortly after my most recent diagnosis. The post that follows was written on December 22, 2023)

Memories are tricky things. One memory might bring smiles and joy while another takes our breath away with heartbreaking sorrow. Facebook prompts my memories of years past by showing me what I shared on the anniversary of the original post.  Most of those Facebook reminders do, indeed, make me smile such as one, nine years ago, with a photo of myself with my friends Karen, Adrianne, and Ashley who came to Galesburg for a visit and to share the gift of music with two churches I served at that time. Eight years ago I posted that I was watching the movie “A Christmas Story” and asked friends to tell us what was their favorite childhood Christmas gift. Seven years ago, I wondered aloud how much longer the occupation of “organist” would be around. The post from six years ago talked about baking Christmas cookies and cleaning up the house. Just two years ago I was glowing with anticipation that I would soon be with both of my daughters and their families.

Then came the post of one year ago: ”Cancer/surgery update: well, it is definitely a rough weather day, but Laura and I are safely in Iowa City waiting for surgery…” Calling it “rough weather” was a major understatement. There was a blizzard, bitter cold, and icy roads with road advisories that accurately declared that travel was not advised. That evening, Laura jumped on my page to add: “Blessed evening everyone! Update from Laura. Mom is out of surgery and doing well. Thank you for all your prayers! Jesus has guided every step.” (You can read the previous posts about my journey with tongue cancer here.)

We all know that the first year following a traumatic life event is filled with often difficult reminders, and so this year has been for me. One year and five days ago, John was moved to a Veterans Home where he continues to receive far superior care than I can provide. One year and three days ago, my dear friends Stephanie and Rodney loaded up a truck with my bed and other basics and moved me to another state to begin life with my daughter Laura and her family. One year ago today, I woke up from major tongue surgery to the most intense pain I have ever experienced. The next day, Laura brought me home and life moved on.

I was unprepared for the depth of my emotional anguish when I realized the lives of everyone else did, indeed, appear to simply move on, even though everything in my life had changed. Everything. Grief can be brutal in its isolation.

I have never been a fan of the oft-used term “new normal.” It strikes me as an in-your-face reminder that things have changed. Yeah. I already knew that. I don’t need a catchphrase to tell me. After a rollercoaster year of very high highs and very low lows, things are leveling out. I’m at peace each morning as I wake up to the realization I have been given another day.

So what did I do today on this auspicious anniversary? I prayed for 2 friends who were having surgeries of their own today. I went to the dentist for a routine cleaning only to be turned away since it has been less than 6 months since my heart issues and subsequent pacemaker surgery. (I sure wish someone would have told me about that restriction ahead of time.) In the afternoon, some friends came by to spend some joyous time visiting and music making. 

I know that there was a Christmas in 2022, but in my world, it simply did not exist. This year is different. I am embracing the entire Christmas season in all of its miraculous wonder and glory. I’ve gone to a play, directed a choir, made decorations, put up a small tree, even added a couple of new ornaments, and set out a few other Christmas delights. My crochet nativity has new additions, too, a shepherd, a star to shine the way, and an angel with her stand to provide her with a lofty view above the stable. I’ve spent precious time with family and friends. One friend came from Illinois to spend a couple of days with me. My 12-year-old granddaughter told me that she could hear our laughter throughout the house. The traditional sounds of Christmas fill my home, too, whether from songs or an occasional Christmas movie.

After Christmas, I will take some private time for reflection on the days which will soon follow.  The next cancer surgery, a major one scheduled for January 18, is going to require both emotional and spiritual preparation. The good news is I have some idea what to expect this time around. The bad news is I have some idea what to expect this time around. 

But life will go on. 

This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. ~Psalm 118:24 KJV