Love Letters

I found it difficult to post yesterday’s blog. But I am finding it even harder to respond to your kind comments.

I really posted to blow off some steam. I’ve been frequenting some “cancer support” type sites, and became increasingly frustrated by all of the uplifting hearts and flowers and ribbons. I couldn’t find anyone who said THIS FUCKING SUCKS!  I appreciate that some people need adorable quotes and Ziggy cartoons to fill their hearts in times of hardship. But those just feel like platitudes to me. They irritate me instead of inspiring me. And I felt like I was the only one in all the land who felt like this.

But you guys, you don’t irritate me at all. And I don’t feel so lonely today.

Your sincere words, even if they only said, “I don’t know what to say, but I care,” meant more to me than any platitude. Your hugs and kind comments prompted me to make my own inspiration of a sort:

Some little love letters. From me.

Dear Spring, thank you for showing up early this year. My freckles adore you. I want to cover you with The Beatles.

Dear Blog Commenters, thank you for taking time to hug me with your words. I feel you beside me, and I appreciate it more than I’m able to say.

Dear Niece’s Trombone, I love your balls-to-the-wall sound. Keep distracting my niece and giving her something to enjoy. Just keep it down when my sister is sleeping.

Dear Twitter Peoples, there’s no counting the smiles you give me. I may not be posting as much, but I’m reading and I love your unabashed snark. Don’t go anywhere.

Dear Thin Mints, I cannot quit you.

Dear Bunneh, your hand in mine keeps me from going under. No pressure. I adore you.

Dear Daughters, thank you for your courage, grace and humor. I couldn’t be more proud of you.

Dearest Buttercups in my yard, you’ve bloomed far too early. Please stay strong when it frosts. I cannot protect you.

I love the angle of the sun this time of year in the morning. I love the feeling I get when I log in and see that name on my screen. I look forward to the peaceful moments when everyone is sleeping, and I treasure every one of them. I adore the little hedgehog that licks the salt off my hand. I love the way my sister’s fingers trace the arms of her chair. I am smitten with the opossum who lives in our treehouse. My mom’s paintings make me think she’ll be okay someday. I love the sound of Dan Auerbach’s guitar; I hear it with  my heart. I can’t live without this window to the world that fits in my lap. I love the sound of my text chime. I love the offlines that simply say, “Thinking about you.” My Talia makes me smile and gives me hope. I heart the little purple pill that lets me drink coffee again. I love you Vicodin. I love driving with my sunroof open.

My heart is black and vodka pickled. I’m jaded, tired and bitter.

But I love, still. I love my family, my friends, my worlds- virtual and real.

I still have hope.

I still dream.

So I guess cancer can’t take everything, can it?