I had an epiphany today, one that made me and a friend chuckle a bit. I'm sharing it with you today (how is it The Day already?!) in hopes that it will ease any anxiety you might be feeling, like it did for me. So here goes: How is the mastectomy I'm getting tomorrow that different than giving birth to my kids, really? I'm going to the hospital to get something in me taken out of me that's going to be good for me. A bonus that's dawned on me since: The piece of me they're taking out/off today will never throw a tantrum or whine about broccoli. Nice, right? Now for a poem written by my brother, one of the most caring and eloquent people I know — a writer of superb talent:

Idda's poem*

A new bundle of red, you arrived in my life, My sister, my friend . . . don't run with that knife!

Atlanta, Sewanee, Torino, and Cali, We traveled the world, via highway or alley.

Summer at Grandmom's, then on to Vermont. "I get off here," you knew, if the driver did not.**

NHS, then Stanford, some Frisco, Seattle, Along came Sean, then Sylvia . . . with a rattle.

"Aunt Lizzie" to some and Idda to one, "Mommy" to Tyler (he'll walk, mostly run).

So many laughs across so many miles, Splashing in water, dancing on tiles.

The sun shines its brightest on those who love best, My sister, my friend . . . no problem, this test.

— Frank Murtaugh III, July 29, 2015

*Frank's nickname for me is Idda — short for Idda Bidda Widda, a name he gave me one summer when we were young and he delighted in finding silly ways to annoy me. **This is a tribute to my first ride on a school bus in our hometown of Northfield, Vermont, where we moved right before I started third grade. On the first day of school the bus driver was about to pass the Gray Building (where kids in kindergarten to third grade went to school). "Why isn't he turning right?" I thought. "This is my stop." Not giving a thought to all the other elementary school kids on the bus who seemed entirely unfazed by this apparent blunder, I stormed to the front of the bus and declared "I get off here!" Turns out the Gray Building stop was the last one on his route. I surely embarrassed Frank, but like most 8th graders with little sisters, he did a good job of pretending like he didn't know me. And now, a gift from the interwebs that I hope will give you some deep and relaxing belly laughs today and in the days to come. Thanks to the handful of friends and family members who have sent it my way in recent weeks. Here it is ... "F*ck That: A Guided Meditation."

#CaringBridge #cancer #meditation #mastectomy #Idda