Saturday, February 2, 2013


It was a good week for Melanoma Man. He worked his way all the way to the bottom of the piles of paper that have covered his desk for as long as I can remember. A burst of doing and organizing that reminded me so much of the nesting we women do in the weeks just prior to the birth of our babies. Trying to make everything just so, just right, worthy of the new life that will dwell in the space of our homes and our hearts.

Over the past 5 weeks I started to think that Melanoma Man's grocery shopping days were over. He loves to grocery shop and cook too. We had 2 aborted trips to Winn Dixie last week, with him making it just inside the door before stopping to catch his breath. I looked at him, I looked at the motorized grocery carts, and back at MM. I couldn't do it. I couldn't suggest the obvious. It would have devastated him. So instead I said : "You wait here. I'll just dash through the store for a few quick things." And he said: "OK." He lets me carry the groceries now too because walking, breathing and carrying are too much for him most days.

He called me at work 6 times yesterday during his shopping spree. I couldn't tell if it was for reassurance or out of delight that he could do it. "The store is vast."

So proud he was, smiling when I got home. He had been of value, made a contribution, evidence of being still here, still an integral and necessary player.

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