Our insurer refuses to honour my critical life and disability insurance claim.
This was a cruel and devastating blow. Not only because they robbed us but after stringing us along for 4 months but because I’d been over-insured for the twenty some years leading up to my leap from Nortel six months before my diagnosis.
OK.Where should I start? I’ll start with Christmas eve.You can’t belive how many presents were on the coffee table! Some of them even hid the tree! (we had a rosemary bush.) Dad got bed sheets, books, tea, candy and an ok go CD. Mom got tea, two pairs of funky new glasses, a box decorated as a reindeer and a scarf and hand warmers. Lucy and I got too much to remember but we got one thing that we have been asking for for five months. A Wii.
The bannister above our stairs is home to our broken clothes. Lonely garments linger there awaiting a two-minute zip on my sewing machine — collecting dust and, often, being outgrown.
I’d rather sew three new outfits than grab those wounded wearables and stitch their gaping rips.
As I sloppily sewed up a dog-bitten seam this morning, I wondered why.
Beyond the obvious — time crunch, procrastination and the excitement of building versus the fixing grind — I realized it’s that sometimes repair’s not what’s needed.
Much-loved items are either fine with their foibles or restored in emergency fixes between breakfast and school. They skip the bannister entirely.
Other items are damaged beyond — or made worse by — repair.
And those worn out items that wait forgotten on the railing would often otherwise be drawer-clutterers.
Eventually, it gets to me. And the dusty lingerers are tossed.
This year, 2010, saw the end of all four of our sibling relationships:
My absent brother remained so.
My “close” sister turned out to be a fair weather friend.
And our efforts to repair the long-damaged relationships with Mark’s two sisters just caused pain, confusion, combustion and, finally, renewed, widened rifts.
We’re heading into the new year with a clean bannister.
It feels fine.
This past October marked the beginning of catalogue of anniversaries in our journey through Andrea’s cancer treatment program. At one point I’d worried the anniversaries would be hard and emotional. It turns out they’re rewarding and invigorating because of Andrea’s resilience and good health. It’s like we have a second chance at life.
Today is a particularly significant anniversary. WeCanRebuildHer was launched one year ago, today, following Andrea’s head-shaving party the night before. The party was such an important milestone in our journey that I’ve kept some of Andrea’s hair from that night as a souvenir.
To play with the text in the first post, we invite you to follow our journey through life as a family that has survived the cancer treatment process. We’ll continue to blog our experiences and thoughts and share audio, video and photographs of the process of enjoying life together.
And just in case you haven’t seen it yet, here’s a video we put together from the head-shaving party. As noted at one point in the video, our then-8-year-old was the videographer.
Andrea happened to notice the unit price on the product tag for some goat cheese we were purchasing at our local grocery story. I took the picture the way I did to let your imagination run wild on how small the portion size would be according the posted price.