That fabulously awkward moment when you realize there’s more truth than fallacy in a statement of perceived self-growth.
Knock on wood, so far there has not been a ‘what next’ in at least a month. So we are more than grateful for that. He saw his surgeon recently and he took an x-ray of my husband’s lungs – it was an all-clear. He saw his oncologist too and will not see him again until October.
There are many ways to pay it forward and cheer up someone else’s day. Here are a few of them.
Leaving, I felt the awesome power of joy and love that defined his life – with none of the transitory, smoky mirrors of “stardom.” Suddenly, the gift he was giving us hit home: all things must pass; but, we’re still here. If there’s any good we can do, let it be now. Keep the music going!
Cancer treatments have come a long way, or so I am told. I am not so sure this is true. I see a tremendous difference in my husband’s energy level and in his strength. It used to be me that was always trying to catch up to him, but not anymore.
Then my mind drifted to many years ago; to a student, wearing a hijab, writing in my class. Did she want to be a teacher, a police officer, a judge? I thought about where her life may have taken her and suddenly, as if with a new reality in my life as a teacher, it hit me.
Alfred Freddy Krupa – born, 1971 – a dramatic, interesting and unpredictable artist. His first art lesson was with his grandfather, Alfred Krupa (Alfred Joseph Krupa, 1915– 1989), a Silesian Pole and a graduate of Krakow Academy of Fine Arts. Alfred Krupa Sr. was a Polish defender in World War II and found himself in […]
Perhaps this dis-ease stems from the honest search for wellness itself, in a world which ceaselessly pushes us to behave like selfish ingrates, or like metaphorical ‘dragon-chasing’ addicts, rather than encouraging us to simply be at peace with who we are and what we have.
I sure wasn’t ready for that, just as I am sure most people aren’t ready for this kind of thing to happen. Nobody prepares for these things, they just sort of happen. One day life is normal and one day it isn’t.
In late November 1986 I was a young and very naïve 17-year-old girl. I had been dating my first serious boyfriend for a few months and we had begun discussing the idea of taking our relationship to the next level. It was now time, I had no choice but to share my secret.