I am here - Lake Michigan summer

This morning I sat down to write. More specifically, to work on my book - one of the biggest goals I have on my “wonder list.” Yet as I sit here staring at the black page, I am not sure where to begin.

I have a concept for the book and 4 contributors eager to work on different sections. I have a creative director and an editor. I’ve researched self publishing extensively and have a clear plan. What I can’t seem to do is… write. I find comfort in the fact that other talented writers have felt the same way. So instead of writing, I write about writing… that’s procrastination at it’s finest.

We are in Michigan. Already one week in to our 4 week stay. This place is magic to me - it’s here that I found my strength and determination as a newly diagnosed metastatic mama. I cuddled in twin beds with my boys, sandy toes wiggling beneath the covers as we read books together. We swam and played in the waves for days. We sailed, fished and they grew up on the same dunes I did - running from shady spot to shady spot to make it to the very top and then running down into the crashing waves. And, I was here - for all of it. Often leading the charge toward a midnight, moonlight swim or one more s’more before bed.

The first day in Michigan - ice cold plunge into the Lake Michigan. Have to do it!

This year is different and yet, comforting memories surround me.

I am skinny and bald and exhausted. The fluid in my lung & abdomen makes it hard to breath and move around. I experience immense fatigue and a constant feeling of weakness. I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m sad.

Being here makes me smile and I have mustered up strength to do things I love like jumping into freezing cold Lake Michigan, boating, swimming, sailing & more. But, there are also hundreds of reminders each day of how I’m not the person I used to be. My weakness, fatigue & bulging belly a constant reminder of the cancer that is growing in my body. I go to chemo every Wednesday to try to combat the progression. But, so far we haven’t see much success. When I wake up the first thing I do is put my hands on my belly to see if it feels smaller… it’s hard to have such a pronounced gauge of cancer - it is consuming being constantly anxious.

As much as I try not to live in the perceived future, I find myself wondering if this is my last summer. Or, recognizing perhaps this is as good as it gets. If I make it back here next summer I may be even weaker and more broken than I am now. I looked back and read the blog post I shared 1 year ago when we arrived in Michigan. There are so many similar themes - including the jump! As I anticipated, I am more weak and sick than I was this time last year. Progression has plagued our life. I’m glad last year me found herself and her strength.

With that I put on my bathing suit and take the kids tubing, then I take a nap. I paddle board out to the center of the lake, slowly…. resting regularly. I walk gently through the woods to my favorite hollow in the dunes and I rest.

I may not be leading the charge, but I am deeply living and loving each moment of this summer just as I did when I was up at the crack of dawn for a run, before I heard the rustling of little feet on the cottage floor & they started screaming for breakfast.

I am STILL jumping in. Literally. And figuratively, to whatever this phase of my life holds. I can’t wait for the water to warm up or conditions to be perfect - I have to do it now. This is my life. My one wild & precious life. My hopeful life.

I am here.