We met over a year ago.
I was cycling in place, finishing treatment, waiting to be untied, unhooked, let go.
I held my hopes and dreams tight, I visualized myself on that lakefront path and I was brimming with excitement to reenter the world.
As I was getting ready to break free— you were getting ready to let go.
With cancer as the common denominator our paths crossed, our lives intersected, and I am now gratefully surrounded by your wisdom, your spirit, your spark.
Yesterday at my three month checkup, I carried you with me.
Leading up to this day of truth, this day of anticipation, this day of black and white, you comforted me and reminded me that it is not about tomorrow but today.
I carried you through the two weeks’ worth of sleepless nights, improvisational dancing, mindless TV, and countless other methods of distraction.
You helped prevent my thoughts from steering negative, and you reminded me that my friends and loved ones are the reason I am and will always be.
If the doctors were right (and I hope they weren’t right) you may no longer be physically with us. But what I know for certain, is that the connections you made in your short 33 years will live on in our hearts and minds in the days to come. You are part of the cocoon that protects and surrounds me, and I promise to carry you with me today, tomorrow and always.
As the days pass, as I grow stronger, and as I continue to gratefully receive clean bills of health, I am reminded of Dear Tom.