Happy New Year! Happy new year indeed. Let me start by saying I'm in pretty good spirits all things considered, sipping a very nice Schramsberg champagne on this New Year's Eve, reflecting back on what by any standard would have to be called an eventful year.
OK, let me say it: THIS. YEAR. SUCKED. In the great scheme of things, 2009 has joined the pantheon of 1985 and 1988 as 'The Years that Sucked Most in My Life'. (If you want to hear the 1985 and 1988 stories, it will cost you beer or really good single malt Scotch.) To review:
February 2009: Diagnosed with cancer
June 2009: Almost--in fact, should have--died from viral pneumonia
July-September 2009: Recovering from June 2009 adventure
December 2009: My dog died
That was a year of sustained suckatood. So how is it I can sit here on the cusp of 2010 feeling generally okay about things? Part of the reason (and here's where I start kissing up) is you. It's you and all the other people who have supported me, who have prayed for me, and who care about me. This could have been a very lonely time, a very lonely battle. I hope you never have this sort of opportunity to know how important it is to know how many people care about you, and how many people there are that care. Make sure you tell the people in your life who don't have CLL how much they mean to you.
2009 had it share of blessings. I got a new job and the opportunity to lead an superb group of professionals. Until the hospital interlude, I was really starting to advance in my yoga practice. I met some incredible people on both sides of the medical fence--patients and medical professionals. I got to see Christmas through the eyes of a child again. Sometime soon (while it's still somewhat topical) I'll share the story of Robbie's Christmas, and how he now is more convinced than ever that Santa Claus is real thanks to things I did.
I have great hope for 2010. I'm already seeing improvement from the new treatment I'm undergoing. We're heading for Disneyworld next week, where Liz will be running her Marathon-O-The-Week. Robbie is very excited.
Resolutions:
I will--however slowly--get back into my yoga practice.
I will get back into the habit of walking at least every other day.
I will reconnect with friends from whom I have drifted.
I will be more patient with my son, the most precious thing in my life.
I will work with Liz to remember that before Robbie, there was us.
That ought to keep me busy.
Anyway, it's almost 11:00 and I'm almost done with the champagne. As an aside, growing up in the Central Time zone made New Year's strange--the Times Square ball always dropped at 11:00 p.m. It was pretty anti-climatic.
Thank you for reading this blog. Thank you, Louise, for suggesting it. Let's hope 2010 is filled with wonder and joy.
At the end of yoga practice, it is traditional to say "Namaste" (nah-mah-stay), which means "The light in me salutes and honors the light in you." To each of you, Namaste.
Happy New Year.
love you, Tim. I admire your tremendous spirit & strength. Even through all of the suckatood you have fought and somehow, at least on the outside, remained positive and inspirational. I hope that 2010 will have fewer challenges & that you'll kick CLL's but. I’m glad you are still here. Shanti, shanti, shanti. Peace, peace, peace. Namaste.
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Always leave it to a brown shoe to sugar coat a year of suckatood of near-biblical (OT)proportions. "Gee, skipper, the landing wasn't THAT bad."
ReplyDeleteYou have inspired us with your spirit, your grit (and we have been to where that was earned), and your stubborn refusal to give up, even while in a coma. Namaste, indeed, amigo.
Let's hope that 2010 is a year that we can look back upon at 11pm CST on 12/31 and have difficulty finding any negatives to lament. Sort of an "anti-suckatood" kind of year, if you will.
Jim & Elena (and best wishes of T&D, too.)
Boy, I thought I had some bad years in the past (remember Shirley and Jason?), but you topped it by a mile. I've kept track of your blog since I stumbled on it. It's made me laugh, and, it's made me cry (more often then I'd like to admit). I think back to the "Let My People Come" evening (try explaining that to friends!), and the relative innocence of the times. I mention it because that is the Tim I still envision, the vibrant,happy-go-lucky one. Yet, in my heart it is the Tim I know will be back in 2010. (And I apologize if I sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself. A moment of weakness).
ReplyDeleteNow, let me say that I've never doubted your resolve to beat this. Maybe it's a trait some are born with, perhaps it comes from your youth, working on the farm; perhaps it was the military training. It doesn't matter. I saw it time and again at the dojo. It's who you are. It's that intangible that will help you beat this.
Lastly, I have to tell you guys how much respect I have for you and Liz for the strenght and fortitude you have exhibited this past year. And for Robbie, who, by all accounts, has been a little trooper. Enjoy a well-deserved vacation at Disney. Set that inner child free.
As this old hippie said on more than one occassion- Peace. And,Iwould be remiss not to add- Keep on truckin'.
Kent
I meant "strength"
ReplyDeleteDoes a beer AND a good single malt get me the story of both the "other" years? Among the great traits you have - besides the most important one - the stubborness to NOT let this CLL beat you - is your story telling ability. Seems you could charge more than JUST the beer and single malt fare you propose. But I'll take the deal while it is out there - pre-mark-up if you will.
ReplyDeleteYou are inspiration to all of us - no matter what major, minor, or nonexistent struggles we are facing relative to your epic battle. Keep on keepin' on. I'm on my way home soon to hug my wife and kids - again. In no small part because Tim reminded me to (again).
- Meno
Happy New Year My Friend!!! This P'Cola girl's going to have a San Miguel and sing "Peelings" and have a little Gulf Srhimp and think of you Tim McMichael... I love you.... Baina
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