The Only New Year’s Resolution I Will Make for Myself…and You Too
I once read a quote by Albert Einstein that said something about defining insanity as doing the same actions over and over but expecting different results. It often comes to mind at the end of the year when I begin deciding on New Year resolutions.
Though, the resolution is always the same. My body isn’t good enough and this is the year I’m going to fix it. Sure, I mix it up a little. One year I’ll resolve to lose 10 lbs. Another year I may resolve to have a “bikini body” by May. The next, I’ll resolve to cut back on carbs. I have yet to achieve any of the resolutions I resolve to keep. I go in to the new year with the best of intentions but it ultimately ends in disappointment, a side of guilt and a year long scolding that continuously replays in my head until I do it all again next December.
Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s motherhood. Maybe Albert is right again; it’s just my insanity talking. Whatever the case may be, this year is different.
Dear Cancer: A Mother’s Answer to the Unanswered Questions
I remember the day my heart was broken. It was in the early morning hours of May 12th. Wearing the baggy pink sweatpants I purchased the night before, I sat in a stiff vinyl hospital chair. My body was curled up into a tight little ball and I watched my mother take her last breath. It still infuriates me that the barbaric double-mastectomy wasn’t enough; that her breast cancer had to spread and take her life, too. In some ways, it had taken portions of my life right along with it.
They say you never really get over the loss of a loved one, you just learn to cope with the empty hole that’s left in your heart. I tend to agree. Twelve years have passed and I’m not over it yet. These past twelve years I kept finding myself in scenarios where the empty hole aches its ugly reminder that it’s still here. Some scenarios arrived quickly, like the breast cancer awareness marathon. I signed up intending to walk in celebration of my mom being a breast cancer survivor. Instead, I walked in her memory.