The End of the Year

My favorite calendar is the T3V by Letts of London. It is leather bound and a book format. On most days it is the most luxurious thing in my life. I buy the calendars from Layweines in Yorkville in Toronto—the most wonderful writing goods store in the world. I always splurge and buy two for each year just in case I have to make big changes mid-year. Last year I bought both books in red leather. It turned out to be a scarlet letter year. And a year of big changes.

Today when I closed out my 2008 calendar, and switched the important phone numbers to the soft teal colored Letts for 2009, I went through the 2008 book. I could trace the meetings, the cups of coffee, gelato dates, dinners, walks in the cemetery and days of rendezvous and love making. Seeing those days and watching how the calendar of our life unfolded I also remembered the times of hurt and anger. The things that were said, unsaid and those that were kept secret. I also saw how cancer wove its way into our lives. The date that says “drive John to doctor—keep cell phone on”. It was for a routine colonoscopy. The rest is love in the time of cancer.

Looking through that calendar I could see my back and forth, my emotional debates and painful struggles. I wondered, as I have all year, why I did not make my “no” stick and why “go home” did not stick for him. I saw his absolute confidence in this relationship and my tormented debate. Our pattern was established early on.

Today on New Year’s Eve we will have a romantic lunch at a French restaurant and go to a movie. After that we’ll go to the bookstore where we can play and use the gift certificates that are burning in our pockets. Then home to a small dinner and a movie on TV. I have laid out my sparkles, sequins and black lace for this night. A new year will begin. I can’t even guess at what 2009 will bring. But I have no regrets.

Our Relationship with Cancer

It is a double whammy. Negotiating cancer and the relationship. Today we had an OR talk. OR is “Our Relationship” a standard feature of the new relationship: who are we, how are we, where do we go from here, your friends, my friends and why I spend more on shoes and organic food and why you wait for sales and never buy expensive produce.

But now you toss in cancer and chemo. Is he really this selfish or just feeling sick? Am I codependent or a good caregiver? Is he unwilling to make an effort or just tired from the chemo? Is this my habit of pulling away or am I reasonably cautious about what I and we are facing?

I long for familiarity and fear it at the same time. Cancer changes the trajectory and the timing. I want to relax. Ready for that time of no fussing of being able to go “as me”. Can I skip shaving my legs? Can he floss in front of me? Wearing the old tee shirt for pj’s? For any couple there is loss and gain in reaching that familiar place. Less sex, a different romance but more and deeper love. How much is making an effort and how much is taking it all for granted and the pleasure and security in knowing you can. But cancer changes that too. The future is not just ours but belongs to cancer too. We can say what we’d like to do someday but cancer is keeping the master calendar.