Friendship & Caregivers

I recently had the opportunity to throw a baby shower for my best friend before the Thanksgiving holidays. Yes, I know this is where you stand there scratching your head with a bewildered look on your face, 'cause we all know that kids and me are like oil and water. Ok, that's not true. My niece seems to have an affinity for me...and she thinks I live inside the Sphinx in Egypt (or so she told me at Christmas last year when I gave her a Little Einsteins' Egypt set). So, hey, the kid thinks I'm an alien. It's not a bad thing, and I take it as a compliment. Alas, I digress. So, I threw this shower up in "The O.C" (of course, none of us that grew up there actually ever say it like that, but again, I digress). What struck me as incredibly amazing was how a group of youngsters that met when we were all 5 years old or so, could all still be friends over 25 years later. Think about it. How often do we say, "yeah, that's my friend...so and so..", but what a treat it is to say, "that's my FRIEND," and really, really mean it. You know you have true friends, when you haven't seen them in awhile, and yet, no matter what happens in your life --- no matter what ultra-intelligent or ultra-stupid things you decide to do --- they always love you. My BFF is like that to me. Actually, the folks in this picture are all like that to me after all these years (Pictured, L to R: My twin - Angie, Ellen, Cameron, Me, Gina). It's pretty awesome. My point of this little rambling note is just that. It's not a serious blog post about a breakthrough in cancer, but it is about something that gets us through our tough experiences, like cancer, which is our friends and family. During this time of Thanksgiving and Christmas, don't forget to thank those that have been there for you in your experience. It's easy for us to block them out and focus on our own battles, but at the end of the day, we have to understand how amazing they are to be there for us in a situation they have no control over, like when deadbeat Leuk knocks on your door. Cures rock (of course!), but so do the caregivers, friends, family and co-workers that look out for us. They were equally impacted, changed and challenged through the experience. Don't be afraid to sit down over a cup of tea and ask them about it, give them a huge hug, and ask them to tell their story. I promise, they won't disappoint.

(P.S. For those that were praying for little Tommy after he was born 2 months early, he came home this past week before Thanksgiving.)