What to do if you might die next Tuesday: a list

My surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday. There is a small but very real risk that I may not wake up from the anesthetic, or there may be other complications that cause me to die on the operating table.

Small, but real. 

So, I've thought about how I want to spend my last few days, if that's what they end up being. 

Here's my list, in no particular order; I do hope it won't be my last. 

• Get my taxes in order. I mean, that stuff is just a royal pain at the best of times, so I don't want to leave a complete mess for Marc to figure out. And, I'll need to get them together anyway and I probably won't feel like it when I'm recovering, so...I'll just do it.
• Love my kid. Spend as much time with her as possible doing ordinary and mundane and magical things. Have breakfast in bed; watch a movie; make a snowperson; throw the ball for Morris; walk in the country; create art; read stories; whisper in the darkness; look at the moon and stars; eat ice cream; laugh and hug and cry and snuggle and watch her sleep. I told her this morning that there is a chance something could go wrong during surgery. "And then I won't have a mom," she said, matter-of-factly. I'll still be your mom, I told her, I just won't be in my body anymore. And you'll be alright, kiddo. You'll have daddy and your aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. "I know mom. Do you need a hug?" This child. 
• Finalize my celebration of life plans. Hint: buy or polish up your most fun pair of rubber boots! 
• Create videos for my loved ones. Attempt to boil down all the life lessons I want to pass along to Chloe, and parenting and partnership thoughts for Marc, and gratitude for my family and extended family and friends. 
• Drink some good wine. 
• Give Morris belly rubs and soak up his doggy-goodness. 
• Sit in the sunlight and the moonlight and wonder at the magic and chaos and randomness of it all.
• Connect with Marc and say the things that need to be said. Reminisce about the amazing life we've built and shared. 
• Make soup. Red lentil coconut. Italian peasant. Miso ginger noodle with crisp winter vegetables. Then my family will be nourished by my love, and if I survive, I'll have lots of healthy food for recovery. Win win. 
• Listen to all my favourite songs. Like this. And this. And this. And this. And this. And this. 
• Deliver Chloe to her grandparents' to have a sleepover with her cousins. Hug and kiss her more. Never let go.
• Drop the dog off at the kennel.
• Drive to the hospital. 
• Count backwards from 10...9...8...

See you on the flipside!

With love and light,

Jilly

Feeling the love

Today is one of those commercial holidays that I’m not super crazy about. I mean, the sentiment is lovely, but this day tends to create angst and fretting and a sense of obligation about gift-giving and displays of affection and declarations of gushy-googliness that I’m not really into.

It screams, “Spend money to prove how much you love someone, and they will prove how much they love you by how extravagant their gift for you is!” For someone whose love language is not gifts, this doesn’t “prove” anything. It actually does the opposite.

And, this day tends to exclude or ignore people who are not paired up, whether by choice or by circumstance, and that’s just no fun.

I’m a big fan of Galentine’s (really, I’m a fan of almost ALL things Leslie Knope), and people finding their own way to “do” Valentine’s Day. Like my sister-in-law’s buddy, who, for an anti-Valentine’s event in Montreal this year, created “2 giant vulva sculptures you can sit in and wrap yourself in labial love!” (Check her out: @vulvaluv). Yessss!!

So this year, rather than be a Valentine’s Scrooge McDuck -- OKAY -- to be LESS of a Valentine’s Scrooge McDuck, I’ve tried to cultivate a sense of gratitude to help me feel the love that is all around me, every day. I’ve been able to crank up my awareness of what I’m grateful for in my life, and feel the love coming my way.

Here’s a short list of the love I’ve experienced in the last few weeks since finding out I’ll be undergoing cancer surgery next week:

• Tucking-in snuggles with my daughter in the evenings
• Prayers, good vibes, ju-ju, and other positive intentions from the kindest people in my circle, and beyond -- Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Wiccans, atheists, agnostics, and all kinds of other non-particularly-denominational people
• Hugs, lots of hugs, and often from unexpected people I wouldn’t peg as huggers…like one of the guys that built our house (and has since become a friend)…I got two from him last night!
• The free sharing of resources, contacts, information, experiences…my network grows…
• Lunch dates
• Coffee dates
• Kind words from people who, despite dealing with their own personal challenges, take time to reach out….you are amazing
• Phone calls, emails, texts and messages from friends and colleagues near and far
• Drive-by well-wishers at my office
• Slobbery excitement from my dog as he leaps for joy when he gets to go to daycare
• Hand-made cards from my daughter
• Speediness in the healthcare system
• Prompt and efficient and wonderful HR professionals helping me navigate the medical-leave-of-absence bureaucratic process
• Gifts of wine, chocolate and pistachios
• Another foster family opening their home to provide a safe and loving place for the boy that was in our care so I can focus on my health, and the Social Services staff who worked magic to allow it to happen quickly

And so, my heart has been filled and refilled by the generosity of the people in my circle and in their circles.

The world is a good place.

There are good people doing good and kind things.

On this day about love, let’s all remember that.

And spread some! 

Love and light,

Jilly