All I Want For Christmas

All I want for Christmas is to talk to and hear from as many readers and writers about their cancer experiences and their lives as I can.

A somewhat strange thing happens at this point in the year: time seems to speed up. The warm temperatures have gone and long least, in the northern hemisphere.

I remember a former running mate telling me, “The past is not just a memory. It is something we can never forget. Hold on to it tightly.” Never forget your past, it molds your future. A subtle shift from sad situations can sometimes make it a bittersweet experience.

I love the Christmas season and the spirit that lives in it. I know that some people not only empathize with my cancer emotions but also personally relate to them. Christmas is a special time for me to be thankful for all my family and friends and doctors through the years.

Then there were people that thought that I had a serious disease and tried to help me with everything and more. Sometimes it’s easier for many of us to bear health issues privately. Life happens and things that aren’t choice go on. We have to just make some hard decisions to get through it. I don’t think I personally did that gracefully, or elegantly, in my cancer years and most likely you will do it your own way.

I am adopting a plan for 2026 brought forth by world Catholic schools. My Catholic upbringing led me to know that there is a way for us all in this life. It is to know that our lives have a purpose and a real calling. This year’s theme, “Normal Lives, reflections and activities circumstances of our daily life.”

My early days as a cancer survivor, there was a time when I had gained enough strength to do more than just breathe and remain alive. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and said, “I need a normal life outside the hospital life that brought me to where I am today.”

I had a plan — just like Warren Beatty, who stars as Joe Pendleton in "Heaven Can Wait," the 1979 movie. Remembering that overanxious angel who plucks him to heaven only to discover that he wasn't ready to die. That movie still holds true to life with exploring identity, faith and second chances.

I highly recommend "Heaven Can Wait" any time you are down or pondering life choices.

As the new year awaits and resolutions abound have a moment. Not a lowercase "m” moment, mind you. But an uppercase "M" moment. I see the upper-case moment as one especially important to remember. While a lower case is also important it doesn’t get uppercase status.

Share your moments with the world and be happy.

What matters most is to just do the best with your own choices, whatever way that is, to get you through. To all doing a hard thing right now, whatever your hard thing may be remember it will not last forever. It would be great if all memories could be bottled and have no expiry dates. Christmas time is near so don’t think of expiration but life with the coming of the new year.

I often think of that September day when the state of my life seemed like it might last only a short period of time. My mental state was in continuous change. After the all clear from the doctors I had so many things to do but my memory about the details of certain things were lost. Concentration was my biggest enemy. It would often slide and just slip away.

It’s no exaggeration there were days I wanted to run from my life. My life story was a little “rough around the edges.” A wee messy that first draft. The perfect story never leaves your head. I suggest to keep a mental journal and start scribbling random thoughts. Eventually write down what you want your story to be. A great chapter begins with one page.

Recently at a conference a man caught my eye. He walked up and asked, “What you do for a living?” I told him, “I am retired and now a literary nonfiction author.”

With raised eyebrows he asked, “Is there money in that?” I smiled, ever so casually, and told him I find it deeply impolite to discuss matters of the wallet. My Father told me when I was young, only discuss money with your banker or accountant. Roll the dice have faith in yourself. My writing gives me joy, and I aim to give others hope.

I want to wish my readers, friends and followers a very Merry Christmas and a joy-filled New Year.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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