Tuesday, April 8, 2025 - Day 238

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Good morning… and it really is a good one.

Every morning at 5:00 a.m., I open my Notes app, type in the day, date, and how many days it’s been since the “shitty” diagnosis, and I think—what could I possibly write that I haven’t already said? And yet, each morning, once I start typing, something always comes to me.

The biggest reason I still have something to say is because of the incredible friends and family who are hurting with us, walking this path alongside us.

Two days after the diagnosis, on my birthday, Alex, Nicole, and I embraced in a family hug. With tears in our eyes, Nicole said, “We’ve got your back.” From there, the support hasn’t stopped.

I hope you all know how much easier you’ve made these 238 days for us. Your love has been overwhelming—it honestly blows my mind.

Yesterday was pretty typical—typical in that the plans changed, and something beautiful came out of it. We were supposed to have dinner with friends Don and Sandy, who were visiting from Galena. But Don had what he thought might be a cold, and we decided to play it safe and cancel. My last cold in February nearly killed me—literally. That mucus didn’t mess around. Since I still don’t have a cough-assist machine, we’re not taking any chances.

Sandy, who’s feeling fine, stopped by anyway—to drop off some homemade split pea soup. I love split pea, and Cindy loves not having to think about dinner. Win-win.

I was in my usual chair by the fire, finishing up one of the last two family tax returns. Now there’s only one left, and with a full week to go, it’s actually looking doable. Then Sandy walks in with an armful of handmade quilts she’s created over the years—and she’s made a lot. All by hand. The stitching is incredibly detailed, and the combinations of patterns and colors are truly works of art. She drops them into a chair, gives me a hug, and says, “Pick one.”

I ask if she’s serious. I know how much time goes into each one.

“Yep!” she says.

So Cindy and Sandy hold them up, front and back—five in total, I think. (Sorry, no photos of the whole lineup—my bad.) When they get to the last one—dark blue, with a pattern that looks like stars—I know instantly: that’s the one. I stand up, give Sandy a hug, and whisper “thank you” as thankful tears roll down my cheeks again.

I apologize and make a comment, wishing I could manage my emotions better, just so I could talk. Just a few days ago, I thought maybe I was past the tears. But then a random act of kindness enters my life, and—well—that stirs the pot. When my emotions hit, they hit hard. So hard I literally can’t speak. Not a single word comes out. So again—thank you, Sandy, for this beautiful quilt.

We sat down to catch up, but Sandy wasn’t done. Out come bags of handmade cotton pillowcases. She tells me to pick one. The fabric is high-quality, and the colors are bright and cheerful. I immediately think of my sister Lis, who irons all her linens—she would absolutely approve of this fabric.

I pick one—with a little help, since matching things isn’t exactly my strength. Honestly, any time I try to wear something other than jeans, I’m usually sent back to the closet for a wardrobe redo. Those trips are exhausting now, so I just go with whatever Cindy lays out. Works for me—and worked for picking the pillowcase too.

What a thoughtful gift. And with these chilly mornings—22°F today!—I’ll definitely get good use out of this quilt before summer temps roll in. The fireplace, the quilt, the soup, the kindness… all very much enjoyed and deeply appreciated.

So here we are—day 238. I’m thankful every day for all of you. Without your love and support, I might be sitting in a circle somewhere with the social worker. No offense to social workers… but I prefer the love you bring me every single day. Thank you.

It’s Tuesday—Tax Day. Time to get the donuts and gear up for a grueling one. I love it!

Have a great day.

Love you guys!❤️