Category: My Story (page 1 of 8)

Cancer, Grief, and COVID19 – The Isolation Trifecta

Isolation. A feeling we most certainly can all understand in our current circumstance. #StayHomeStaySafe #CoronaVirus #COVID19

It seems every post on social media these days is a reminder of what is going on in the world. And rightfully so. Everyone is scared and feeling the walls closing in.

Cancer

When I was first diagnosed with cancer in 2003, I was not prepared for the feeling of isolation. Even when people were surrounding me, there was still that feeling of isolation. The words “you have cancer” floated around my brain constantly. And while others tried to share their own experiences with cancer, this new path was one I had to walk alone. Don’t get me wrong, my husband and many friends were there. But it felt like I was running a marathon by myself and they were all on the sidewalks, behind barricades cheering me on. The treatments were mine alone to bear.

In 2010, when I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, the feeling of isolation came back with a vengeance. This time the isolation was more tangible. I was unable to walk because of where the cancer had attacked. My husband would get me situated on the couch or in one of the recliners before he would leave for work. At lunch, either he would come or he would make arrangements for a friend or family member to come over and keep me company for a while. But then it was back to work. I was alone, while the kids were at school and he was at work, left to wonder what this new life was going to look like.

For me, metastatic cancer came with a new set of physical challenges. But also mental challenges. At home with nothing but time on my hands, I discovered the average life expectancy was 36 months after being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer (thankfully I have far exceeded that life expectancy, but I had no way to know that at the time). Friends and family once again rallied around us, but the isolation sat heavy in my soul.

Grief

Similarly, when my father passed away and then four days later my husband passed away, I was surrounded by friends and family. There to lift me up, to give me a shoulder to cry on, or to make sure that I had food to eat. But again, it was the times in the middle of the night, when I was unable to sleep that I found so isolating. Even going out with friends was hard. Most of my friends are happily married. I never felt more isolated than going to dinner with a group of happily married couples when I was now a widow. I have gotten better at being in those situations, but there are still times when that pain of isolation will rise up and make me understand what I lost when I see the looks that pass between husbands and wives who have known each other for decades.

COVID 19 – The trifecta of Isolation

In some way, I feel like I have been in preparation for the isolation brought on by COVID. But, it is just a little different. This one is being felt by everyone in some way.

And yet, even this new circumstance brings about a different feeling about grief and isolation.

During each of the previous life events, there were people around me. Helping me. Comforting me. Bringing me meals, sitting with me at doctor’s appointments, in the hospital, at the funerals, driving me to appointments, cleaning my house. They were sharing in my isolation as much as I would allow.

COVID 19 has reignited the feeling of isolation that I have struggled to overcome in the last few years. The isolation and grief from a cancer diagnosis, to loss of my father and my husband.

I have discovered I have a love/hate relationship with social media. Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram are my connection to the outside world right now, however, the posts also remind me of the other things I have lost: my husband; my limited mobility (makes it really hard to do things I used to be able to do easily), even my healthy immune system.

Thanks to my metastatic cancer and a compromised immune system, I have not left my house, other than to take the dog for a walk or go to my oncologist appointment, since March 18th. Days upon days of no contact with friends and family except via phones/computers.

The physical isolation is hard. But the reminders of the emotional isolation of past experiences is like ripping a bandaid off a wound that hasn’t finished healing.

If you, like me, are feeling the isolation from cancer, grief, or COVID I have found the following help me get out of my isolation funk:

Papers burning in fire pit
After writing down the things causing anxiety, burn them and let them go
  • Keep a pen and paper or some kind of notebook on your nightstand. When I can’t sleep it is usually because I need to process what is going on, no better way to do that than to write it down.
    • If what you have written is something you don’t want others to read, I have also found that burning the pages in my fire pit is very therapeutic.
  • Go for a walk or run (I don’t run, but you might enjoy it)
  • Find a good exercise video or sign up with a virtual trainer (I just signed up with Camp Gladiator for a 6-week challenge – all classes are on Zoom). Sweating out the frustrations has always helped reset my mind.

What have you found to help you not feel so isolated?

Good News – it needs to be shared not just during a pandemic

Tell me something good! (Who remembers Shaka Khan signing this? Because everyone has heard of Shaka Khan after Season 3 of The Masked Singer)

We seem to all be looking for the good news these days. If you don’t believe me, just ask John Krasinski. He made a video about “Some Good News” and he even speaks with his friend Steve Carell which made us all happy. If you haven’t seen the video, click here (I promise it is worth your time).

This week I also shared some of my own good news. And for those of you who follow me, yes, it has to do with my latest scan results.

I shared this post on my personal Facebook page.

Even though I shared this news during the #StayHomeStaySafe pandemic, I was still shocked at the number of likes and comments I received.

Granted, people are usually happy for me when I post good news about my scans. But this week I heard from people who I haven’t heard from in years even though we are friends on Facebook.

It doesn’t bother me that most people on my friend list don’t comment on my posts. I have close to 500 “Facebook friends”, but honestly I probably interact with about 75-80 regularly. I usually receive a lot of likes when I post good news regarding my cancer. But this time I got over 150 likes and about 50 or more comments.

After 9 plus years of living with metastatic cancer, I understand not everyone is as concerned as I am about my latest scans, especially since I get them every 3-4 months.

Since last June my two previous scans had both shown progression. The results from my latest scan showed some of the spots from the past 2 scans were actually smaller, which means the new medication is working. Yes, I am doing my own happy dance (I even pulled out Just Dance 2016 on Xbox to do some at-home exercise – whew, it’s a good thing no one is recording that).

I would postulate good news is not just what we need today, but we need to do a better job of celebrating good news on a daily basis. Now and going forward.

So tell me something good! I really do want to celebrate with you.

God vs the wedding rings – Learning to trust the Unseen, not the Seen

Since ancient times, the wedding ring has been worn on the left-hand ring finger. According to an article in Vanity Fair (and other research), the left-hand ring finger was thought to have a vein that runs directly to the heart. The ring itself is supposed to symbolize the eternal nature of the union, with the open center representing an open portal to the unexplored life of the couple.

Wedding Rings

I have had the same engagement and wedding rings since my husband proposed (1992) and we married (1993). I was one of those people who hardly ever took my rings off. When I played golf, or to clean the rings I would remove them, but I never really took the rings off for extended periods of time.

When my husband passed away (July 24, 2016) I researched what others did with their wedding rings. I had trouble sleeping after he passed away. There were many nights when questions would just run through my head. I’m sure there were many thoughts I looked up in the wee hours of the night during the first year

“Should you continue wearing your wedding ring after your spouse dies”

one of many questions i googled the first year

My research did not come up with a definitive answer about how long widows/widowers wore their rings. Most of the articles came to the same basic conclusion, “do what is right for you.”

That made me feel better. I did not want to take off my wedding ring because when it came right down to it I still felt married. I was not ready to date, which was one common reason people decided to remove their rings.

I continued to wear my wedding rings until December 9th, 2017.

Why that specific date? That was the day I went into the hospital to have a procedure on my hip. I took my rings off that morning before heading to the hospital (ok, hospital stays were other reasons I took my rings off in the past).

The procedure I went in for turned into much more and I was in the hospital for about 10 days and actually had all of the prosthesis removed from my body (you can read more about that here). Not only did I stay in the hospital for 10 days, but I was also on antibiotics and other medications when I did come home.

When I came home from the hospital I was using a walker to get from my bed to a recliner. I didn’t really think about putting on my wedding ring. I was just trying to figure out this new situation without a hip joint.

As time passed I thought I had made the right decision.

Until one day, a few months ago I pulled my rings back out and put them on again. Why? Well, I felt like taking the rings off in December 2017 hadn’t really been my decision. I just took them off because of the hospital visit. Additionally, I was feeling disconnected. Disconnected from my husband (yes, I know that sounds strange since he has been gone for more than 3 years, but grief can make you think strange things) and disconnected from the signs I felt he used to send me.

Putting the rings on I was hoping to feel close to him again. I think I wanted to go back to those times when I felt like I was getting signs from him that were encouraging and maybe the ring was a portal, the sign of an eternal union. The signs had been less and less and I really wanted to get that connection back. I missed them. I missed him. I missed us.

A few weeks ago I had one of those aha moments (I seem to have those a lot lately about weird things but that is another story).

I was placing heavy expectations on these wedding rings. It was as though I was asking J.R. to send me signs. Signs I was making the right decisions. Signs that he was still looking down on me and watching over me.

Then it dawned on me: I was seeking signs from J.R. instead of trusting God.

The rings were an outward sign that I belonged to J.R. But honestly, I belong to God. And what outward sign am I showing that I am his child?

I took off my wedding rings after my AHA moment -not because I am ready to date (not sure that I will ever be ready) and not because I’m going into the hospital (thank goodness) – I took them off because I realized I was putting my trust in the seen (the wedding rings) and not the unseen (God). Even in this time of isolation amidst the coronavirus, I have not reached for them to put them back on. Instead, I’m keeping my focus on God and trusting the unseen.

Everyone needs to discover their own “One Thing”

“Write your own story with Grace, Grit and Gratitude”. That was the title of a seminar I recently attended.

While the speaker had some great thoughts that she shared (be on the lookout for future posts about what I learned) I was hoping, again, that I was going to learn HOW to tell my story.

I’m constantly trying to figure out the best way to share my story that will be meaningful and helpful to those on the path behind me. I have been seeking a class that will unlock the secret to storytelling. Each time I sign up for these classes (or seminars) I have great expectations. But I usually walk away still looking for that one thing that will make my writing helpful and hopeful to those who take the time to read it.

As I reflected on what I heard the speaker say at the latest seminar, my mind kept replaying the scene in City Slickers where Curly (Jack Palance) explains to Mitch (Billy Crystal) about the “One Thing”. [If you have never seen City Slickers, it is an underrated movie, click here and watch the scene]

I love this scene. First, Curly talks about all of the others that come to experience the Ranch Life at about the same age (can you say “midlife crisis?”). They are all looking for the secret of life and untying their knots.

Curly asks Mitch if he knows what the secret of life is. Mitch, listening intently, believing he is about to learn a great secret says “No. What?” Curly then tells him “It’s one thing. Just one thing.” Mitch asks what the one thing is, and Curly tells him “that’s what you’ve got to figure out.”
The scene ends and Mitch is just as confused as he was when they set out. 

Like me seeking the answers from others to meaningfully share my story, Mitch is left wondering what is the one thing.

I’ve been trying to figure out the “one thing” that has helped me through these tough years and come out on the other side. To be called by friends and others as strong or resilient. And be able to share that one thing with others. I have struggled with trying to figure out how to offer hope to people and give them the answer I think they are looking for.

But after watching and rewatching that scene from City Slickers, I realized I was still thinking like Mitch. I was expecting someone else to tell me what the one thing is to effectively share my story. When in fact, if I really listen to what Curly says – “that’s what you’ve got to figure out” – only I can figure out how to tell my story.

My hope is this blog offers hope to others who have been dealt a tough hand. To show it is possible to pick yourself up and be resilient. But I now realize it is not to tell you what the “one thing” is.  Because my “one thing” may not be the same as your “one thing.”

For me, every day I got up and faced the day after a cancer diagnosis, not once but twice, with grace and gratitude was a way to teach my daughters what resilience looked like.  And every day I chose to get up and face the day after my husband died was an opportunity to teach them that surrounding yourself with people who love you and lift you up when life is hard is worth every bit of the time invested to build those relationships.

I can’t tell you what “one thing” will solve whatever problem you are facing. But I can tell you when you find yours it will make it easier to face obstacles with grace and gratitude.

Leave a comment and let me know what your “one thing” is. I’d love to know what keeps you pushing forward.

Own Your Story – the chapters already written AND the chapters waiting to be written

“Like the story you’ve been given because it’s not going to change” 

I was listening to an interview recently and the interviewee (Sally Clarkson) made this comment. (I’m not going to lie, I have never read anything by Sally Clarkson, but I subscribed to her podcast after listening to her in the interview. I loved her energy and her insight.)

At first, I was like “Yep! Own it!” 

Then I let it percolate some more. 

Did you ever read those books as a kid (or maybe played the computer games) where you had a choice about how the story would go? Every choice you made in the book or game, would determine where the story was going to take you. Every time it could be different based on the choices you make.

Those books/games mimic life. Every day I get the opportunity to make choices that help determine where my story is going. 
While what Sally said still resonates with me and I do (mostly) agree with it, I also believe my story is not fully written.

Sally is right. The past chapters of my life are not going to change. Even if I don’t like it, I have to own it. I was dealt a hand that if I had not gone all-in (in life and living), I would have folded and walked away from the table. But life is a precious gift, not something to walk away from.

The more I pondered this quote, it reminded me of a book by Adam Hamilton that I read several years ago. “Why? Making Sense of God’s Will.” There was a subsection in one of the chapters titled “Is the Story of Your Life Already Written, or Is It a Work in Progress?”

I was going through a tough time when someone gave me this book. After reading it, I wrote my own interpretation about God being “The Great Architect” – I would post a link but it was on another platform that I don’t use any longer so here is an excerpt:

My interpretation, after reading the book, is that God has a blueprint.  I’m not an architect (nor have I played one on TV as the old commercial goes), but I do know that a blueprint is a plan, a starting point.  Thinking in terms of building a home, it is easy for a new homeowner to think “oh, I would like to be able to put the refrigerator over there” after seeing the walls go up.  A thought like that can have several different impacts to the architect.  If you put the refrigerator there, we can’t put the sink here and the stove won’t fit there.  The cabinets that were ordered may not fit.  Or perhaps while looking through design magazines the excited homeowner sees a new design that they want to incorporate. While these changes may seem small to the owner, the architect is behind the scenes adjusting the blueprints so that the new homeowner’s vision becomes seamless. In this scenario, I am the homeowner and God is the architect.  Decisions by me, or even by those around me that may impact me, or perhaps even a force of nature like a tornado or fire, change the plans.  God takes the decisions/events in our lives and makes adjustments to the blueprints.  It is our choice to look at the new blueprints and decide if we like the new design.  God can take the challenges and the decisions that may not have been in the original plans and turn them into something beautiful. Every day the new blueprint is placed before us, we have to make the decision to accept the changes or throw them out.

(P.S. This was written many years ago and instead of editing I am reposting an actual excerpt from the original post)

So, yes, I do agree with Sally that we must embrace the story that is already written. But I believe I also have the chance to embrace the story that is still being written and make it even better than the one in my rearview mirror.

Are you embracing the story that has been written? How are you embracing the past to write the story that is yet to be written?

A daily reminder to Choose Joy as I start each day

My house has one of those weird art niches. It is in a strange place. Only I see it regularly.

There is a small alcove that leads to the master bedroom. The niche is directly across from my bedroom door. Unless someone intentionally steps into the alcove, no one knows it is even there.

I’ve never really known what I should put in the niche. I’ve tried several things, but nothing has ever truly resonated and I am always looking for the next right thing to inspire me.

Recently I made a big decision in my life. Making the decision released in me the chance to rediscover who I am.

I’m not going to lie. I am not a minimalist. I have a collection of penguins that rivals the Antarctic (well, maybe not, but you get the point). I like to see things that remind me of who I am and where I have been. Yes, Marie Kondo, these things do spark Joy in me.

When I was moving things around in my garage in an attempt to organize it (still a work in progress), I found a small display shelf that was my husband’s. I had been searching on Wayfair and other sites for shelves that would fit inside the niche and there was one just sitting in my garage.

Choose Joy Niche
A daily reminder to Choose Joy

I started gathering small things from around the house that as Marie Kondo says, “Sparks Joy”. A clock my grandfather made for me, a Choose Joy sign I made at a lettering class with some friends, a few penguins, a butterfly watercolor that I made at another class (can you tell I’ve been exploring my creative side?), a frog made from one of my husband’s shirts after he passed away, a ceramic horned frog a friend gave me when I was accepted at TCU, another TCU stuffed animal, and a collection of fly fishing ties I received when I went on a retreat with Casting for Recovery.

Each morning when I walk out of my bedroom I see these things. They remind me where I have come from, who I have loved, and that I am still a work in progress like the butterfly.

Finally, I am reminded each morning to Choose Joy.

How do you remind yourself to find Joy every day?

Is “Living a Great Story” enough to make the story worthy of sharing?

“You should tell your story.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that. 

But what is my story and who really wants to hear it? More importantly, what can people learn from my story?

I have been hesitant to take the next step as far as writing a book or searching for places to speak about my story. In my head, I don’t have the answer to the questions that I think people want to hear.

  • How do you get up and face the day?
  • How can you keep a positive attitude about life and what’s around the next corner?

 If I don’t have a good answer should I stand in front of people who are looking at me expectantly and just shrug when the questions start?

This past week I had to fill out an application. I was applying to be a model for the Breast Cancer Resource Center’s (BCRC) annual gala/fundraising event: ArtBra Austin

One of the questions asked the applicant to write a brief bio (in 3rd person). I stared at the screen for a solid 15 minutes. I started to write something and then hit the delete button. Then I did it again. And again and again. I finally texted a friend who was also applying and asked what she wrote. As most people would, she started with “xxxxx was born and raised in such and such, Tx”. She went on to say where she went to college and what kind of career she had. 

I started typing “Kim was born in Germany”. Delete. 

“Kim was raised in the military”. Delete

Was that really the story I wanted to say in my bio? I had to discern what really makes Kim, well, Kim. What would an audience want to know about this woman walking down a runway, in a bra, with a slight limp?

Obviously I had breast cancer because you can’t be a model unless you have been a client of the BCRC. But what else makes me unique? Do they want to know the details of the limp – thank you metastatic breast cancer. Or that I have been metastatic for 9 plus years?

After much consternation, I decided to briefly state that I have been metastatic since 2010 and then wrote about my daughters (no explanation of the limp but that’s another story). I followed with a quick sentence about finding new opportunities to express myself through writing. (I mean I am trying to tell my story through this blog and I have a very rough draft of my first attempt to write fiction). 

When it was all said and done, I was not pleased with the bio but it was sufficient for what I was doing. But once again it got me thinking about what is my story and who really wants to know more. 

Live a Great Story Sticker
#LiveAGreatStory

If you were to drive around Austin, you might notice stickers on cars or even signs around town that say  “Live a great story” (you can learn more about that here). I love the simple, yet profound, words. Although I’m trying to tell my story through words, I realize my story is not about cancer or grief. My story is made up of so many more things that have helped shape who I am and how I have persevered through some of the ugly to continue to have the opportunity every day to “Live a great story”. 

My story is still being written. Maybe not eloquently. But every day I can get up, be present and ask “what will I do today to continue the story of Kim?” And maybe I don’t have to have the answer to those questions. Maybe by seeing me “living a great story” it is enough to encourage those on the path behind me that sometimes just getting up and being present is enough. And maybe, it will give them the strength to ask themselves “What can I do to continue my story?”

Now excuse me while I go order some of those stickers to remind me and those that I encounter to “live a great story” 

On the road to self-discovery avoid the exit marked “should”

This may come as a surprise to many, but I have been seeing someone lately: a therapist.

She has been a safe place for me to express my emotions and feelings without being judged. If you haven’t seen a therapist, maybe you should try it.

Four things I have learned in therapy:

  1. Grief isn’t just for the loss of a person: I thought I was going to see a therapist to get help dealing with the grief of losing my husband and my father to cancer three and half years ago. As it turns out, I discovered I had a lot of grief that I have never dealt with regarding my own cancer diagnosis. It had honestly never even occurred to me that I should have grieved the life that I lost to cancer and the tolls it has taken on me mentally and physically.
  2. Being strong isn’t all it is cracked up to be. People see me as “strong” because that is the persona that I allow people to see. I wear a mask regarding my cancer and my grief that I have just recently begun to take off around people whom I know I can trust. I have used this mask to hide my vulnerability. You could say I don’t like to ask for help and you wouldn’t be wrong, but I have come to understand that it has much to do with feeling vulnerable (thanks Brene Brown, I watch her Ted Talk every time I feel the mask holding me down). Like most people, I do not like to show my vulnerability. I prefer to put on that mask and hide.
  3. I am a prisoner to “Should”. I have been exploring the enneagram lately (I am a 9, the peacemaker). I have a tendency to do things because I think that is what others expect of me and therefore do it because I think I should. If I do things others expect or tell me I should, it will keep the peace. Instead what I have discovered through therapy (and the enneagram) is that I may be achieving outward peace, but have sacrificed my own inward peace.
  4. I have a right to be happy. Many of the things I have done in my life were because I perceived others thought I should (yes, this is just a continuation of 3 above – but it is me learning to break the chains of should – the next level). It is OK for me to seek happiness and 2020 is the year I have chosen to travel the road to discover my own happiness.

Therapy has helped me see things in a new light and learn to explore why I feel the way I do. This morning I had an aha moment. Many friends and readers of this blog have told me “You should write a book, a blog, share your story.” This morning I realized the word “should” was a trigger. I started this blog to share my story. I even wrote a mission statement recently: “To offer hope to those on the path behind me.”

Lately, I have been avoiding writing because I am fearful of falling in the same trap.

But I’m here to tell you. I ‘m not doing this because someone told me I “should”, I am doing this because I want to explore what I may have to offer – to myself and to those on the path behind me.

Bucket list memories – who are the memories really for?

Do you have a bucket list? My guess is you do. Most people have ideas and dreams of things they want to see or accomplish before their time is up. I even wrote a post about bucket lists before my husband was diagnosed with cancer.

I have some items on my bucket list. But lately, I’ve been rethinking my idea of a bucket list. I still want to do some of those things in the link above (yes, I still want to go to the Ellen show and fly on a private plane). However, instead of making these memories for myself, I have come to realize it is the memories we make with our loved ones (be it family or friends) that will be how we are remembered.  

A year after JR died my oldest daughter graduated from college. To celebrate the fact that we all made it through the toughest year of our life the girls and I took a cruise. It was a time to get away from everything. What we discovered (aside from the fact that my snoring had gotten really bad) was that we weren’t really “cruise people.” I wanted to go on a cruise because it had been on my bucket list. JR had planned a cruise for our honeymoon, but plans had to be changed and he promised me for years that he would take me on a cruise one day. Unfortunately, that day never came and I shared this bucket list item with my girls instead.

If you were to ask the girls if they liked it they would say no. However, we did make some good memories on the trip. Like the boat ride where the dolphin played in the water beside us. Or their excursion at Roatan where they played with the monkeys. The mysterious midnight WiFi that brought us text messages even though we didn’t upgrade to the WiFi package. Watching Moana on a big screen at midnight in the middle of the ocean. And even the day we stayed on the ship when most got off (definitely one of the better days).

This weekend my youngest jokingly (but seriously) suggested I take her to Vegas to see the Jonas Brothers. She turned 21 last year and she just graduated from college a semester early. At first my reaction was “I don’t really want to go to Vegas”. The last time I was in Vegas was on my honeymoon. It would be bittersweet to go just a few weeks after what would be my husband and my 27th anniversary. But the more I have thought about it, the more I realize that I should go and make memories with her. Because when we are gone, the sweet memories are what get us through the days of sadness. And who better to make memories with than those you love the most in the world. 

So I’m going to dust off my bucket list and figure out who wants to make memories with me – memories that we can share now and they can use to reminisce when I’m gone (don’t worry, I don’t think that will be anytime soon – I have lots of items on my bucket list and adding more every day).

Words can have power in your life – what words are you choosing this year?

This weekend I attended a Leadership Retreat at our church. No leadership conference/retreat is complete without a motivational speaker. This one was no different.

He started out with a short exercise. Write your memoir in six words. Well, that is not really a short exercise. Some people were able to come up with something quickly and shared their six words. I was stuck. So many words to choose from.

How could I sum up the last 53 years in six words? Daughter, Sister, Wife, Mother, Widow, Thriver. Those are all descriptive words but do they really sum up life.

I thought about those six words for the rest of the day. How do I sum up an entire life?

While the six-word challenge was churning in my brain, the speaker moved on and then narrowed it down even further.

ONE WORD Challenge. You have probably heard of this. Pick one word that you want to focus on for the year. Some of the words people chose were “welcoming; thankful; prayer; hope.”

Again, this is not a quick exercise. At least not for me. I have done this in the past, choosing one word. And after a few weeks, I forgot all about it.

One year it was Intentional. Another year it was Friendship. But 2020 is a big year. A new decade. What word would help me kick off this new decade in the way in which I wanted to move my life forward?

I don’t know how your brain works, but these kinds of questions get stuck in my head, and even if I’m not consciously thinking about them, they are churning in the back of the brain at all times.

That afternoon I had some friends over. Some lovely ladies that I have become very close with over the past few years whom I met through a stage 4 breast cancer group. One of them had scans recently and wasn’t feeling very optimistic. As we poured a glass of wine, she shared the news: 3-6 months. The doctor has run out of treatment options for her. She is continuing treatment because she has had the hard conversations with her doctor about quality of life. She wants to enjoy what time she has left and he has given her a treatment option to try to give her the best quality of life possible during this time.

After a few glasses of wine, some laughing and some crying it was time for them to head home. Hugs all around and promises to get “the gang” together as much as possible over the next several months.

After they left I was feeling a little depleted. I have seen this ugly disease take so many who weren’t ready to go.

As I settled on the couch and thought about my friend and what the next several months might look like, my six words came to me:

Living for today, Hoping for tomorrow.

Kim Builta, six word memoir

And as I settled on those six words I also discovered my one word:

PURPOSEFUL – I want to live every day with purpose. Some days that might just look like going to lunch with a friend. Other days it may mean seeking to understand God’s purpose in my life. And still others it might mean following through with that purpose and advocating for those, like me, living with stage 4 breast cancer or focusing on writing – on my blog offering hope to those on the path behind me, or finishing the book that I know is inside of me.

What is your Six-Word Memoir? And what one word have you chosen to help you live it out?

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