Please excuse this very personal blog. I normally approach my writing as an educational task, but, today, I am too filled with joy and gratitude to write about anything other than my feelings and my life.
On February 9, 1993, I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, I was the single parent of two daughters: one away in college and one, only 12 years old, who was home with me. You know what my biggest worry was. You know that my grief about possibly leaving them, and most especially my younger girl, was inconsolable. I began by setting not-too-distant goals. I wanted to live to see her start high school. Then I hoped to be at her high school graduation. The dream expanded as time passed.
In April 2005, I was diagnosed with a second breast cancer. By then, both daughters were young adults, and my worry was less acute. Of course, I did not want to die and leave them, but I knew they would manage. I had remarried, and I also knew that their wonderful stepfather would continue to love and watch over them.
On Saturday, the 12th, Julia, now almost 29, is getting married. I am going to be there. I am going to be there with a bursting heart, dancing feet, and tears in my eyes. I am going to be thinking about all of us, about the women I have known and loved and lost who did not reach their dream of being at a child's wedding. I am going to remember their courage and their pain, and I am going to wish all of their sons and daughters all the love and hopes that their mothers carried for them.
My husband is officiating at the ceremony. I am walking Julia down the aisle. Right before we start walking, as I look at all the people whom I love most in the world, all the people who love her and the wonderful man she is marrying, as I see my husband and her husband-to-be waiting for us....At that moment, I carry all of our dreams with me. And I say "thank you."