That’s us, to the right. Two years ago today.
Moments after sharing the bad news with Luba.
So early in a surreal journey.
Behind that smile, a big part of me thought life was over. All of me hoped it was just beginning.
We headed to Quebec City that week. As planned. I tossed and turned in the hotel bed, hoping I’d somehow fall asleep before Lucy, Bayla and Mark finished watching “The Corpse Bride”, “Beetlejuice”, “Edward Scissorhands” and “The Nightmare Before Christmas”.
I was awoken, one of those nights, by a ringing thought: This was the beginning of “The Spicy Me”.
Before this ordeal, my aim was to get through life. To make it to some far off end without losing any of the fabulousness I’d stumbled into. New territories and aspirations were reserved for Luba. As a matter of course.
Two years ago today, I opened my eyes.
I became alert. Aware. Present.
Grateful plus.
I started examining. And choosing. And imagining more.
The two years since then have brought trauma and mourning, recovery and joy. I’ve made friends. I’ve taken chances. I’ve explored new territories. I’ve become the Spicy Me.
I’d never choose cancer. I never want it again. For any one.
And I’m supremely grateful for the efflorescing goodness I’ve been treated to since that mind-boggling beginning. Two years ago today.
I’m aspiring to many, many more good years.
By the way.
The colours. The crafts. The googly-eyed desserts.
The rhyming, creativity-packed picture books. The manic costume creation.
Two years ago today, as I prepared for those long-awaited test-results, we splurged on Hallowe’en. Filling our craft-store basket, despite the expense.
Thank you so much for joining Mark, Lucy, Bayla and myself in our efforts to raise funds for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation.
You donated $1130!
Thank you for the research you have made possible.
Thank you for the spirits you have raised.
Thank you for the families you have buoyed.
And thank you for all the little girls who may live without breast cancer’s shadow.
My sincere thanks to all of you for your generosity and your moral and financial support:
Hopes and upheaval. Disappointments. Triumphs. In work, relationships, parenting and health.
And through it all, there’s been a weekly evening with Jay.
Sanity. Sage advice. Laughter. Perspective.
Whatever the week brings, my evening with Jay makes it better. Those evenings make me better.
I think sometimes about our 18-years-younger selves. Saying our first hellos. With 7,550 km and ten provinces of cycling ahead of us. And all we never dreamed about those next 18 years.
And I think of the years ahead of us now. The venting and celebrating of our sixty-something selves.
And that makes me smile.
Thank you, Jay.
And thank you, Mark, for making those evenings possible. All these years.
Before cancer, I led a charmed life. And I knew it.
I was happy. I was healthy. With two delicious daughters. And a vibrant relationship with a hunky, funky, fun-loving man.
We had good jobs. A cozy home. Consuming creative, hobbies. Tonnes of passion. And shared our time with interesting, intelligent, authentic, fun-loving friends.
I had stress. And I did torture myself. But I really did marvel at my miraculous life. And wondered how I’d stumbled into it.
3 days and 3 nights of luxury, relaxation and amazing scenery, Edmonton to Ottawa.
A happy reunion with Phae and our home sweet home.
Huge thanks to everyone who made this a vacation to remember.
And especially to Janice for beckoning us out, sharing her beautiful province, keeping us safe and enjoying one billion laughs with us through all the ups and downs.
Andrea Ross was diagnosed with breast cancer October 6, 2009 and intends to survive and thrive. You can read more from Andrea here.
Twelve years ago today, our beautiful Lucy was born.
Thank you, Lucy, for sharing your warmth, your wisdom, your wit, your creativity, your love, your courage, your perspective, your passion, your steadiness of self. And thank you for your patience with us as we stumble recklessly into each new parenting realm.
I love you, my baby sweet.
Wishing you many, many, many more years of happiness and good health.
Love always,
Mom
xoxoxoxox
Andrea Ross was diagnosed with breast cancer October 6, 2009 and intends to survive and thrive. You can read more from Andrea here.
That’s us, to the right. Two years ago today.
A year ago yesterday, was 
Andrea
Lucy* (
Bayla* (