Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day

Tomorrow will be my first Thanksgiving Day without my mother.
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HOPE IS WHERE THE HEART IS (5)

"Hope is where the heart is." Wonderful words, written by my dear friend Lisa just before we lost her to leukemia at the young age of 32. She used it to say that those who had never suffered in some way were missing out on understanding the joy of hope. She was an amazing person and inspired everyone around her right up until the day she was taken far too soon.

I wrote the first blog entry under this heading back in April 2014 when Scott was first diagnosed with cancer. What a journey it's been! (Sorry Scott, I know I'm not supposed to refer to it as a journey unless we're going on a cruise...but you won't go on a cruise!) Scott still endures the agony of scanxiety every six months, and he never has to wonder if he'll meet his insurance deductible, but he remains cancer free, and that's a wonderful thing. Our good friend Jeffrey, our "2 in a million" friend, was also recently declared clear after a long, hard battle. He was the other chordoma patient right here in the Keys; statistically impossible, and yet, there it is. We are thrilled for him that he can now look forward to the rest of his life!

Many we know haven't been so lucky. We lost another chordoma warrior this week. A beautiful young angel named Madison Rose. She was 23 years old. When I read the words this morning, I sobbed. First I yelled an expletive I won't repeat here, then I sobbed. I sobbed for a girl who's late teen and early adult years had been nothing but surgeries, treatments, recovery, wash, rinse, repeat. She had endured so much by the time we met her, and yet still smiled the biggest, brightest smile. When I met her, she was in a hospital room at MGH undergoing chemo. She had no hair, was very thin, wearing sweat pants and a Boston Strong t-shirt, hooked up to tubes and wires, but she still sat up and talked and laughed and made everyone in the room feel better. She was one of those souls who gave hope to everyone trying to comfort and take care of her. Her strength, courage and grace were amazing, especially for one so young. She was 19 when we met her, in Boston for her second surgery. She and her family were so full of hope, it was contagious.

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By the Way...

It was late in the year of 1992, and I had been dating Scott for a few months when I wrote the words to "By the Way."  I remember that I gave him a copy of my love poem, and when I saw him again 2 days later he had turned my poem into a song.  I've been writing verse for as long as I can remember, often humming along with the tune in my head as I wrote.  It is an indescribable thrill to have someone hear the song in my words.  With his lovely finger picking and string harmonics, together we wrote a beautiful song, if I do say so myself!

He is performing at a wedding today, and the couple chose it as their recessional song.  The first time he performed "By the Way" at a wedding was for some friends and we were actually in the wedding party.  Tony and Shelly loved our song and had Scott play and sing it for their first dance.
That was in 1999.

Over the years, he has played more weddings than he can even remember. Many brides and grooms request "By the Way"...
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"...then you reached out to me and you put your hand in mine,
and you said that life's a song, and we were the next line.
And by the way, I'm in love with you today."

Une Journée Français avec Teresa

(A French Day with Teresa)

Scott and I had been living in the Keys for about a year when I received a phone call from Cousin Teresa saying she was coming to Miami and wanted to get together.  Teresa had been living overseas for several years, Germany and France.  I know she ended up living in Japan as well, but I’m not sure of the time line.  I’m pretty sure she was living in France at the time she visited us.

She was traveling with friends of hers; a French couple who had asked (hired?) her to travel with them and act as interpreter since they spoke no English.  Teresa was a language major.  A funny side story… when Teresa was very small, she had a serious speech impediment.  Her older brother, Tony, was the only one who could understand her and he would act as her interpreter.  I was always proud of her for not only overcoming her “handicap” but totally making it her bitch!  It’s a little bit ironic as well.

When she arrived in Miami, Teresa called me and we decided on a day to get together.  We lived 2+ hours from Miami, but they wanted to come down and see the Keys.  They came to our house and then we went to lunch at Hawk’s Cay, a resort nearby, on the ocean, with dolphins.  As mentioned, the couple she was traveling with spoke no English.  When introductions were made, we picked up the man’s name as Remi, but for the life of us, neither of us ever understood the woman’s name.  So, they have become forever dubbed Remi and Remi’s Wife in our memories. 

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