This is about to be slightly sentimental and a little salty. I’m already learning lessons about life and about myself that only serious threats to one’s health can teach.

Here are a few…

I want to remember.

One of my biggest fears is losing what I know.  I still know the quadratic formula and all the state capitals. I can teach Ballet terminology and a tap Shim Sham. I know how to cook and change a tire.

But I want to remember the things Keith says to me (and has said to me the last 28 years). I want to remember when Blake wrote Brady’s name for the first time. I want to remember going to the Yo Gabba Gabba concert with Brady when she was 4.

They say I won’t forget, that the part of my brain where the tumor lives doesn’t control memory or knowledge. Good.

I want people to shut up.

No, it’s not a contest. Yes, everybody’s problems are real. But, man, please shut up about trivial things.

You having a bad day? A headache? Somebody talking about you behind your back? Please keep it to yourself. If in 48 hours [insert thing] won’t be a problem, then it’s not a big enough problem to send out into the universe. It’s just bad energy.

Health crises bring about this profound realization about what’s truly important and worth talking about. Forgive my language, but not giving a shit about most things is now at the forefront of my mind. In a matter of a few weeks, I noticed myself having little or no tolerance for nonsensical “problems” in this world.

My neurosurgeon treats children. Brain surgery on a child, Y’all. Nobody wants to hear about your stupid toothache or whatever. Perspective is everything. I’m sorry I ever went on about silly things.

I don’t want to hear about your politics.

I struggled with political opinions and rhetoric. I struggled with the ugly things people said about others.  I had a hard time with people who hated Trump calling ME, in essence, an idiot, divisive, hateful, racist whatever.

I have brain tumors. I want to hug people and pet dogs. I want to taste that first, glorious sip of coffee that touches one’s soul. I want to drink wine and eat gnocchi bolognese in a cozy New York restaurant.

I want to play with your new puppy and hear about your kids. I want to see your birthday party pictures and hear about your trip to the beach. I want to see your new car and adore your new hair color. I want us to dance in the middle of Dollar Tree when Kool & the Gang comes on.

I don’t give a shit about who you voted for. I didn’t ask my surgeon how he voted. I didn’t ask the nurses. I didn’t ask the pharmacist. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.

When you strip it all away, what’s left is me and my brain tumors and the desire to live. I don’t give a flip about your politics.  I actually LOVE that we’re different. I will not be told again by anybody that I’m stupid or ignorant then, afterward, remain connected to that person.

I care about people, and I want to be cared about the same way without judgment about crap that ultimately doesn’t matter.

I just want to see.

I might lose some abilities. Temporarily.

I am told I’m likely to experience “SMA Syndrome”. It’s a phenomenon that occurs when you jack with the part of the brain where my tumor resides.

I may lose speech or lose mobility on my right side until my brain settles down after surgery. Rehab can help it return in weeks (fingers crossed).

They, of course, warn you so you don’t wake up and freak out when things aren’t working properly. This scares me a little.

I otherwise just want to see Keith. I want to wake up and see him.  That’s how I will know I’m good. The rest is gravy. We can rehab and learn to write again or whatever.

I’m awaiting two moments: the one where I wake up and see Keith after surgery and the one when we are looking out across the vast blue waters of the Florida Keys. I’m counting on both of those moments. The rest we will figure out together.

I want you to love.

Y’all, lift me up. Run along next to me until we get to the finish line. (Don’t worry, you don’t have to run fast.) Rally me, and let’s hold hands.

But more than that…love bigger and deeper. Put bullshit aside. Get off social media and away from CNN. Compliment strangers. Volunteer to serve food. Wave to a child.

Pull your kids out of school. Take the trip. Say no. Eat the cake. Drop that superficial friend. Stop fake smiling. Roll down the windows. Dance in your kitchen.

I don’t know how to end this, so I’ll just say…

If you’re on this bus with us, be on the bus with your whole heart. Bring only your good energy. So far, this bus is filled with bright,  glowing souls eager to help, be present, and support.

I love you guys. I am overwhelmed by all the kindness.

For me… please consider remembering what is important, shutting up, and putting aside things of this world. Really see. Love bigger.

That’s all.

#pray4msa #powerinthepurple #graceanddignity

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