The Importance of a Hug

I read an article recently about a well known man in the UK who was given a teddy bear when he was 2 yrs old and kept it with him always, even until his death. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-21265701) This warmed my heart as it validated my own love of teddies. My collection includes one that was my mother's, given to me as a small child. She is now over 60 years old.
Over the years I have collected many teddies and one of the most important deciding factors is their "huggability." There is something truly comforting about hugging a teddy bear. It quite simply soothes the soul, well at least it does for me.
Which is why I've been very impressed by The Serious Teddy Bear Company. Their mission is to bring teddies back to adults. Did you know that for some elderly folks in nursing homes, a teddy bear is the only family or comfort they may have? I recently gave over 25 teddies to a nursing home so that those elderly without families to visit had something to love and hug.
My journey with daughter's brain cancer has been very isolating for me but the thing that remains are my teddy bears. I sleep with one every night.
I would cherish the opportunity to win a teddy from The Serious Teddy Bear Company. They truly know the importance of a good hug. (http://bearhugs-theblog.com/win-a-free-hug-sweepstakes/)
Now, go hug a teddy bear!!!

Cancer Can Be A Gift

Yes, you read that right. I said cancer can be a gift. Someone once told me that and I had the same thought as you. “That’s just crazy! How can something so horrible be a gift?” Well, think about it for a minute…

While you’re letting that ruminate, let’s talk about mothers. Now, I love my child more than the air I breathe. She is part of me. When she’s away from me I actually feel her absence. She is an incredible human being. She is, in fact, one of the most incredible human beings I’ve ever encountered in my life and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother. But, I also know that in the grand scheme of things, we are not special. I don’t love her any more than any other mother loves their child. And we are no different from other families touched by cancer.  My heartache is no greater than Kasey Radford’s mom. My fears are no worse than Taylor Gettinger’s mom. The void in my life when she is gone will be no bigger than the void left in Jackie Oswald’s mother’s world.  So I had to adjust my thinking. Instead of asking “Why me? Why my child?” Well, why NOT me? Why NOT my child? Why NOT our family?

I’m not trying to trivialize our situation, far from it. I’m just trying to process all of this and turn something awful into something more helpful. (I won’t say positive.  I just can’t justify that word right now.)  Along this brain cancer journey, we have encountered many people touched by cancer. Patients, caregivers, families and yes, survivors. Some are still in the fight. Some are no longer walking this earth, leaving behind their loved ones. Spouses, children, brother or sisters, fathers and yes, mothers. A lot of mothers.  I have followed their stories either on Caring Bridge, Facebook or through Imerman Angels. When I found out someone’s child had died, I used to have such guilt because I still had my child and they didn’t. I still do have my child with me. But for how long I do not know.

Which brings me back to…Cancer can be a gift.

There are MANY, MANY mothers that have lost their child(ren) to accidents, suicide, sudden death (such as an aneurysms, SIDS or an undiagnosed heart condition), war and attacks like the Newtown shooting, Boston bombing and 9/11. For these mothers, their child was ripped from them. They started their day off in their normal way, just going about their business only to end their day in shock, despair and unimaginable grief. They may have had a disagreement with their child that morning only to be left with unspoken words or apologies. They may have had plans to take a trip only to be left with unused tickets.  They may not have spoken to their child in years, only to never speak with them again. Heart wrenching. No more hugs, no more kisses, no more cuddles and no more “I love you's.”

But with cancer, while it is no less heart wrenching, there is time. Often not a lot of time, surely not ENOUGH time, but time nonetheless. Time to make memories. Time to say all the “I love you's” that you want.  Time to take all the pictures you can. Time for all the hugs, kisses and cuddles you can get. And yes, time to make arrangements for the inevitable.

The gift of time.  I told my daughter many months ago that while I don’t have a lot to give her like amazing trips of a lifetime or some such, the one thing I could give her was my time. That I have plenty of and it’s all hers, for as long as we have together.

So I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes "Yesterday is the past, Tomorrow is the future but Today is a Gift. That's why they call it The Present."