May 13, 2012
Dear Grace,
Happy 10th Birthday!
You celebrated your birthday by a hosting a “sleepover” with Bella and Ella. Q also came but she couldn’t spend the night. Alyssa was invited but later was grounded and couldn’t come and Sky wasn’t able to make it on account of a karate tournament. I served pasta with three choices of sauce (alfredo (becoming your favorite), marinara, and pesto). We then had turkey tacos, another favorite, a few days later.
I’m writing this year’s letter from Red Mountain Resort where I started either last year’s letter or the year before. It occurred to me that I don’t recall finishing last year’s letter! I think it’s still on my desk at home. I better check since you’re not nine anymore.
I’d like to begin this letter with our text exchange since I’ve been here:
Fri. 5/11 @ 12:44 pm – Grace: luv u Fri. 5/11 @ 12:45 pm – Mom: Luv u too! Miss you! Fri. 5/11 @ 12:45 pm – Grace: same Fri. 5/11 @ 7:57 pm – Grace: i called u Sat. 5/12 @ 9:27 am – Grace: hi how did u sleep cus ive been sleeping trough the night for like 7days Sat. 5/12 @ 10:06 am – Mom: I slept only ok last night…had a better night on thurs. so glad you’ve been sleeping thru night!!! Are u getting ready for soccer? Sat. 5/12 @ 10:08 am – Grace: ya were going to try to put the music on my ipod Sat. 5/12 @ 10:09 am – Mom: k…confession: I’ve only turned on ipad once this trip! Sat. 5/12 @ 10:11 am – Grace: I new u should have left it with us I keep going weres the ipad oh ya mom has it Sat. 5/12 @ 10:29 am – Mom: you were right! Sat. 5/12 @ 10:30 am – Grace: right arnt I sooo smart Sat. 5/12 @ 10:40 am – Mom: Absolutely! Have a good game! Xoxo Sat. 5/12 @ 10:41 am – Grace: I miss u Sat. 5/12 @ 10:48 am – Mom: me too, kiddo! Sat. 5/12 @ 10:49 am – Grace: come home today pllleeeaaasssseeee
I write our text conversation this weekend to illustrate two things:
- What was going on in your life at the time. We exchanged a few more texts that morning. I went to a yoga class and you went on to arranging a play date with Bella.
- How well we’re able to communicate with each other about general happenings to innermost feelings. I truly hope you’ll always feel comfortable enough to talk with me about anything! In the last six months, you haven’t been sleeping well. It concerns me greatly because I cannot understand why an active young girl would have difficulty sleeping through the night. The pattern has been that you wake up in the middle of the night and cannot fall back asleep. You mention that you start thinking or that noises in the house bother you. You’ve stated more than once that you no longer like our house and would like to move. I’m upset, though, because when I ask what you’ve been thinking about, you cannot answer my question. So, what is going on inside your brain, sweetheart?!?! Please share with me! After you wake up, you often come into whichever bed that I’m sleeping on or even the floor of that room, so as not to disturb me. Although, if I wake in the middle of the night to find you on the floor, I wonder to myself what is so upsetting that you would choose the floor over a bed? Sure, you’ve commented that your bed is uncomfortable, which I believe to be true given the mattress is over 20 years old! We’ve promised to spruce up your room this summer! I wonder what you’ll choose.
O.k., here I go with the heavy stuff (I have to remind myself to include more light-hearted material as the letter continues): I suspect you’re sensing the underlying tension over Dad’s health. How I wish I could whoosh this dark cloud, that hangs over our family like a long spring storm, away forever! But I can’t. Yes, there is concern over Dad’s health. It appears his cancer has returned. We’ve elected not to tell you and Harry because at this point, we’re not sure what to do. How I hate not telling you but until we have a plan, we thought it would be better to sit tight. Similar to his recurrence in September 2010, his physicians suspect at least two cancerous lymph nodes. This time though, the nodes are not along the same chain. As his primary oncologist acknowledged, “this is real”. The very good news is evidence indicates only minimal disease and the cancer does not appear to be spreading quickly. The more daunting question is what to do. Dad has been researching answers for the past six months. More than likely, he’ll undergo a chemo and/or radiation regimen. I sense that surgery is not an option this time. Dad devotes his attention to investigating vaccine trials that help your own body build stronger defenses to fight cancer cells. I suspect we’ll have answers in the next few months and then share news and our action plan with you and Harry. (I’m finally finishing your letter; it’s August). Dad made a decision. He felt the best option was to enroll in a clinical trial at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake. The trial involves combining Erbitux (the chemo drug that gave Dad the awful rash) with an antibody receptor to ideally make the chemo more effective. Unfortunately, at the last minute, Dad was not accepted into the trial because he did not meet qualifications. His tumor mass was not large enough for the parameters of the trial. Dad was bummed after deciding this trial was his best option. The good news is that he has other options. As I’ve stated in previous letters, I wish I could somehow make Dad’s cancer disappear completely and forever. We’re coping o.k., but not great. Lately, this situation has been most difficult for Dad. He’s trying to remain optimistic. The meditation course he and I took was designed to train us to stay present. I’m proud of Dad, you, and Harry for handling one of the most devastating situations a family could face. I never want this disease to destroy us, either collectively as a family, or as individuals.
Changing the subject, let’s talk about 4th grade. For the most part, you had another good year with Ms. Moner. Again, you and she and ups and downs, but all in all, you seemed to have a good year both academically and socially. Math continues to be one of your stronger subjects, but spelling and writing are not your favorites. Perhaps I’m totally out-of-touch or too old-school, but I believe the ability to write and spell well is still important despite increasing use of PC’s and Apple products. The ability to clearly communicate your thoughts both verbally and in written text, I believe is one determiner of overall success. This is why I’ve been harping on you to take spelling more seriously. In just a few weeks, your 5th grade class will be posted. I am eager to find out about your teacher and to see who will be in your class. You’ve expressed interest in joining student council in 5th grade.
You’re expressing more interest in soccer again. You’re such a determined and focused athlete. Please let us support you should you decide to pursue a competitive league. Dad has been encouraging you to step up to the next level in soccer. I think he’s right…
You started electric guitar this year, taking lessons with Casey. You two work well together. You’d like to quit piano. Yes, we keep “forcing” you, but for you and Harry, I’m hoping you develop at least a basic musical skillset. While you may not like music lessons now, if you understand music theory, you can always pick up an instrument another time in life. Music can be such a wonderful outlet or bring great solace to one’s soul. I enjoyed the observation you made while learning the song, The Mermaid, on the piano with Miss Jeanie, “the song reminds me of swimming underwater when it’s played in legato (versus staccato).”
One of the funnier remarks you said to me personally, “mom, you do one thing really well: talk to strangers”. Another funny episode involved your off-handed comment about “Dalai Goats”. We were talking about the Dalai Lama, the branch of Tibetan Buddhism, and you confused “lama” with the animal “lhama” by substituting the word “goat”. Even you laughed at the whimsical mistake.
To conclude this year’s letter with just a note about my own journey. You know my trials and tribulations with trying to start an equine therapy business. I’ve changed pursuits to becoming an elementary school teacher. Grasping all that’s entailed in changing careers mid-life proves a challenge. I’ve doubted myself often, but something deep inside tells me that “this career choice” is the right vocation right now. It meant a great deal to me when during a moment of doubt, you said, “mom, don’t give up; the kids love you”. Thank you, Grace!
You still talk about becoming a veterinarian. So far, that interest hasn’t changed in at least five years.
Until next year…
Love always and forever,
Mom
