By Kristen Knott
“A new year has begun.” I say to our two fat cats sprawled on the couch, close to me, protecting or seeking protection. I am never sure which. Why I did not want these cats, or any cats for that matter gives me pause.
The holiday season a blur, and snow piling outside, the furnace pumps to keep the deep freeze at bay. My mind is busy, remembering darker times. I am not sure what I thought would happen when I got to this moment. Images of pink balloons and roses, and savory smells, the pop of a champagne cork followed by a devilish squeal, and the contentment of an endless amount of love.
It’s impossible to forget the day it began, like a slap across the face. June 6, 2013. That date is clear. But when did the cancer-free clock begin? Would it be the removal of my tumors? Or the last round of chemo –the final infusion, or the three-weeks of healing that followed? How does one determine the exact calendar day to circle in red flagging “Day one”?
All those people, that swooped in with the diagnosis, friends, family, strangers, that baked and cooked and sent flowers, that [...] continue the story