EDITOR’S NOTE: Anne here. Quick updates. As predicted, things have gotten better. Being busy is better. Another round of treatment without much to talk about (waiting to hear on some things like whether I can go ahead and try to get COVID vaccine, if we’ll do bone scan and CT or just CT, etc). Classes began today (virtual for at least the first couple weeks). People are awesome...and thanks for understanding and appreciating my honesty and the balance of everything. Anywho...a special treat for you! Guest posts! I thought it might be fun to hear directly from the folks I spent most of the past 2 months with and they were kind enough to oblige. Here are their words (probably harder to share than my own because they are so kind). Enjoy.
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First-from my niece Carmen...an amazing artist (check out her IG, give it a follow!), the one that made me “Auntie Anne”, and an all around amazing young person.
Its January 8th and auntie anne has just left after spending around the last month and a half with us. a lot of stuff happened in that time.
off with her hair!
Auntie anne came in with a bang, full volume and pulling out chunks of hair during dinner which I later had to wash out of her soup bowl 😖 she was shedding hair faster than our cats so we shaved it off the night she arrived. we all took turns shaving off some hair but dad did most of it. she rocks the bald badass look.
i was worried that when i saw auntie anne in person i would see that the cancer had beaten her down, but auntie anne is incredibly strong, and despite it all she still carried a persistent sense of optimism that made me feel more hopeful.
during november we chilled out, played tennis together (i apparently don’t know how to move on the court), and took walks around the neighborhood. we went to see a light show at filoli, we danced, biked russian ridge, and enjoyed a warm thanksgiving together.
december fun
now on to december. we all had a fabulous makeup photo shoot after watching a makeup master class. there was lots of coughing and cackling, but not from covid, from the cancer.. grandma finally arrived around this time and it felt even more festive. after being stuck with my family (no offense family) for so long, it was very refreshing to have two new fresh faces to spice things up. i didn’t get to spend much time with grandma though because my dad, sister, and i all left on december 20th to drop off a canoe as a secret santa present before heading to colorado
adventures in colorado
in colorado we played pickle ball, danced in the gym, and played some ring fit adventure. we had a marco polo christmas with my moms side of the family and then went down to eat a socially distanced christmas dinner with my dads family. i’m really glad that both sides of my family are so welcoming and get along with each other so well.
skiing in telluride
after that we took a short trip to telluride for some skiing. auntie anne wanted to downhill ski so i decided to go along with her. skiing during covid was definitely a little stressful. we did as many routes as we could considering the long lines, stopping occasionally to let auntie anne rest her numb legs. i was very proud that she was watching out for her body, and i didn’t mind stopping once in a while to take in the views of the mountains while she was resting. she eventually decided to stop since it’s understandably frustrating to ski with lung nodules and cancer and the fear of covid and not being as physically fit as she once was. it was incredibly impressive that she went out onto the mountain at all and did so many runs so i said goodbye to her and skiied a bit more before heading down too. that night we ate some good food and spent the next few days skiing and snowshoeing amongst the gorgeous mountains.
on new years my grandparents came to ski a bit and eat pizza with us. we passed time that night by watching movies like mean girls until it was finally time for the ball to drop. a few fireworks went off randomly, and we all celebrated with a glass of sparkling apple cider.
i am extremely lucky to have had a warm loving family by my side through this tough year. having grandma and auntie anne live with us was a much needed change of pace and helped me regain some of the happiness and excitement quarantine had stripped away from me. hopefully 2021 will be better, but i don’t want to jinx it. peace out ✌️
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From my big sis Karyn...an all-around superwoman.
My sister asked if we’d like to write a guest blog. Carmen writes. She willingly went first, courageous as she always is to put her thoughts (or her art) on paper, to share a part of herself with the world and accept the reaction. It’s one of the things I admire about her.
I myself like to stick to haiku or poetry if I’m going to share. Prose feels like a helpless game of “telephone” to me—trying to connect my thoughts to my writing to your eyes/ears and your thinking. It seems doomed for failure. Even when I read my own writing a few days later, I tend to feel surprised I would have said things the way I did. I much prefer a restrictive 5-7-5 syllable count, a 6 word memoir, or the opportunity to evoke feeling but in a poetic form that makes whatever you walk away with fair game.
But Anne means the world to me, so despite being the diary and blog-less person that I am, a few thoughts.
The only thing that serves as a better reality check than unending months of COVID living is living through friends and family battling cancer. This damn disease messes with not only the body but the mind. When Anne was making plans for the holiday, she had to have a conversation with her oncologist that included asking, “Is this likely to be my last Christmas?” The answer to that question matters, but the fact that the question is being asked matters more.
Buddhist philosophy and writers like Echkhart Toll talk about “the power of now.” One of Anne’s superpowers, in addition to summoning positivity in ways many could not, is her readiness to figure out what opportunities she has right now. Without Anne here, the last month and a half would not have included: learning how to devein leafy greens machete-style, dancing to pop Christmas carols around the fireplace, playing online bar trivia with extended family, discovering wifi controlled outlets that automate your Christmas lights, taking an online cooking class to make steamed potstickers and dumplings from scratch, tennis lessons using our long levers to get more power, new recipe ideas, a photo shoot following a makeup tutorial, board games at night, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies, terrible reality TV shows, speaking in hilarious British/Australian/Scottish/Not-sure-what-that-was accents, and in general a lot more laughing, dancing, good food and positive attitude than this house has seen in a long time.
What more can we ever ask of ourselves but to wake up each morning and ask: What’s within the realm of possible and what would we like to do with this day? The options may not be limitless, but we make choices. How we interact with others, whether it’s time for rest, achievement, reflection, a little fun, or doing something for others. Anne decided to take a chance when she came out here, not knowing for sure if she’d be able to arrange treatment to stay or would be going back home after Thanksgiving. We are so lucky that we were all working and learning from home (imagine that, disappointment becomes an opportunity) and in a position that she could come join our bubble.
If not, I would have never had the chance to listen to her teach classes and give oral exams to her students, connect with colleagues, present to a girl scout troop, plan for her sabbatical next year, keep building the strength and capacity of her university and department—she has such conviction, operates from a place of curiosity and caring that I’ve always admired in her.
I remind myself and my family often: Every life contains 10,000 joys and 10,000 sorrows. Both. It’s a package deal. Anne brought us so many joys in this six weeks of living together. I’m so glad she chose to come, and that mom was there supportive as ever not only to join us but to also to make the calls to transfer treatment and make it happen.
This lovely (though long-ish) piece a friend forwarded me by Ann Patchett after Anne left expresses better than I can how being together brought about our “best selves.”
It wasn’t a conscious effort, it was a natural consequence of being given a special opportunity. And also a pretty predictable outcome of focusing on someone other than ourselves. I thanked my family for being such wonderful people to share a home and this life with after Anne left. And this is my way of thanking Anne too for all the joys she adds to our list of 10,000.
If I could have just written a haiku, it may have been…
When time starts to shift
priorities refocus,
love and family endure.
Or a 6-word memoir inspired by her visit…
These moments, living life with conviction.
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From my bro-in-law Adam, who I describe as someone that is annoyingly good at an annoying number of things...
The girl who wanted to be the best at everything.
I met my future sister-in-law when she was 7 years old. The early images in my head of Anne don’t match the pictures in our photo album. Anne’s ambition and determination never matched her little body. My earliest memory of Anne was her outward skepticism toward me when her oldest sister brought me home to meet the family. I expected skepticism from a protective father, but not from a second grader. Perhaps this is why I’ve never attached age with Anne. She is the most timeless person I know.
Fortunately, Anne’s skepticism of me quickly faded. She was a bridesmaid in our wedding when she was just 11 years old. Her first dance with a boy was with my groomsman, Eli. It always seemed totally normal to me that Anne was part of the wedding party, that is until my daughters turned 11.
Everyone in the family knows the story of Anne believing her mom when she was told as a young child that should could do anything. Most children will take their parent’s encouragement to dream about becoming a movie star, an astronaut, a professional athlete, or maybe even President. Not Anne. “Or” wasn’t part of Anne’s vocabulary. Anne wanted to be the best—not just the best at something—she wanted to be the BEST AT EVERYTHING!
When Anne entered her teens, the realization set in that she couldn’t be the best at everything. She yelled at her mom for “lying” to her. She cried and cried. The realization crushed Anne, but it didn’t defeat her. On both sides of my family, Anne is the 1st person to be a high school valedictorian, the 1st to be a division 1 athlete, the 1st to earn a PhD. She’s also the 1st to have stage IV cancer.
As I was driving to pick up Anne from the airport, I wondered if the light in her eyes would be dulled by the cancer. I couldn’t imagine how it wouldn’t be. I’ve tried projecting myself in Anne’s shoes countless times over the past half decade, and each time I find it absolutely mind numbing.
When I pulled up to the curb, Anne dragged over 200 lbs of ABC luggage, wearing what looked like to be an end-of-days nuclear-winter gas mask. She took off the mask when she got in the car. I was relieved when the light was still there.
Although Anne’s childhood dream of being the best at everything remains a dream, she has become the best at the most important thing, and that’s living life. She’s an amazing human being, a true inspiration. It was wonderful having Anne live with us for the past few months. We never knew what would happen from one day to the next, but we definitely knew it would be worth waking up for, and everyday the light from Anne’s life brightened the light in our lives.
