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Sideways
By Stephanie Kemp
Sideways
By Stephanie Kemp
Sunday. 5:56 am.
Coffee cooking. People sleeping.
I am learning to live sideways. Too much to process at every turn...(world, health, children’s happiness, what is my career, construction, destruction, new neighbors, old friends, hair, wigs, heat, knees, wtf is happening, everywhere, all the time.)
So I just keep going. Not in a numb or denial fueled way, and not in an every moment is bliss or seize the day post cancer (hopefully) modus operandi sort of way.
I just keep going. I invite all the parts that are still recognizable (brain, arms, most toes and some finger nails, nose, eyes, heart, teeth, temper) to join me each day in welcoming the newcomers (other toes and finger nails, smaller stomach, right leg, residual interloping blood cells, fresh hair - everywhere, patience), even though we don’t know them yet and are unsure of their intentions.
We read books. (Currently Heartwood by Amity Gaige and The Librarian’s Daughter by Heather Corbally Bryant)
We get invited to plays. (Recently Annie and Life of Pi)
We write. (This is writing, and so is the letter I just sent to my Uncle.)
We make breakfast. (Banana pancakes today, to celebrate the Sunday of it all)
We walk. (Often, if slowly...)
We go to grown up birthday parties (Buckles is finally 50!) and bake cookies for the graduates. (This week: Alex, Stella, Sadie and Foster)
We see an old colleague’s art show, having never known that his art comes from a dark and lonely childhood. (Peoria, IL)
We eat poutine after the show and talk about what we want to make next and all the people we love and miss (and love and will miss).
We hold hands in a new town that still sells Florsheim shoes. (Florsheim Shoes!)
We make homemade sushi. (...and by “We” I mean Adam.)
Our daughters will (and want to!) be home for Sunday dinner to eat it with us.
We are so lucky.
Sideways is underrated.
Please remind me that I said (and felt) this.
Cc: Suleika Jaouad
All the Friends I Wish I’d Gotten to Tell this to in Person.
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Coffee cooking. People sleeping.
I am learning to live sideways. Too much to process at every turn...(world, health, children’s happiness, what is my career, construction, destruction, new neighbors, old friends, hair, wigs, heat, knees, wtf is happening, everywhere, all the time.)
So I just keep going. Not in a numb or denial fueled way, and not in an every moment is bliss or seize the day post cancer (hopefully) modus operandi sort of way.
I just keep going. I invite all the parts that are still recognizable (brain, arms, most toes and some finger nails, nose, eyes, heart, teeth, temper) to join me each day in welcoming the newcomers (other toes and finger nails, smaller stomach, right leg, residual interloping blood cells, fresh hair - everywhere, patience), even though we don’t know them yet and are unsure of their intentions.
We read books. (Currently Heartwood by Amity Gaige and The Librarian’s Daughter by Heather Corbally Bryant)
We get invited to plays. (Recently Annie and Life of Pi)
We write. (This is writing, and so is the letter I just sent to my Uncle.)
We make breakfast. (Banana pancakes today, to celebrate the Sunday of it all)
We walk. (Often, if slowly...)
We go to grown up birthday parties (Buckles is finally 50!) and bake cookies for the graduates. (This week: Alex, Stella, Sadie and Foster)
We see an old colleague’s art show, having never known that his art comes from a dark and lonely childhood. (Peoria, IL)
We eat poutine after the show and talk about what we want to make next and all the people we love and miss (and love and will miss).
We hold hands in a new town that still sells Florsheim shoes. (Florsheim Shoes!)
We make homemade sushi. (...and by “We” I mean Adam.)
Our daughters will (and want to!) be home for Sunday dinner to eat it with us.
We are so lucky.
Sideways is underrated.
Please remind me that I said (and felt) this.
Cc: Suleika Jaouad
All the Friends I Wish I’d Gotten to Tell this to in Person.
