[2022-12-31] Saturday Synopsis #24: New Year's Eve Edition
On this special New Year's Eve edition of the Saturday Synopsis, I look back at some highlights from 2022, informed by a few of my favourite Jenesis posts.
Third year of cancer treatment
2022 was the third calendar year in which I underwent treatment for cancer. Beginning in January, I had radiation therapy for perianal skin cancer. I rang the bell of hope in February, after 25 rounds of radiation. The end of active treatment is often the point at which the friends and acquaintances of cancer patients lose track of the story—either because the patient stops sharing their story or the people around them, understandably, stop asking how they're doing. But there is value in knowing how the cancer journey continues—through the recovery phase (recuperating from pelvic radiation felt like a long process to me) and beyond. The stories of living beyond cancer, not just living with cancer, are helpful to the people who will face cancer in the future and those closest to them. Such stories show that there is life after cancer for most people who face this illness.
Living out loud
One of my favourite pieces of feedback in 2022 was from a friend who wrote to me to say that she had gone to her doctor and raised a sensitive issue. She hadn't wanted to bring up the subject, "BUT," she explained, "I did this because of you, and your journey, and I summoned enough courage to finally say something." She added: "because of you, and your willingness and determination to live out loud with bravery and vulnerability...I decided to push myself to be a little more like you." Comments like this motivate me to continue living out loud, sharing not only my health journey through Jenesis but my joy as well. When we share our stories, we can serve as an example that inspires others to take positive action in their own lives.
Talking with someone who has cancer
Many times in 2022, I heard from people who were going through cancer themselves and were benefiting from the posts I had written about my experience. Others took counsel from tips I shared on how to talk with someone who has cancer. Among the pieces of advice I've offered were these: acknowledge that being diagnosed with cancer sucks, don't downplay the situation, avoid any sentence that starts with "at least," don't predict the future, and treat them the way you did before they were diagnosed.
Cancer's impact on loved ones
One of the posts from 2022 that I'm most proud of was about the impact of cancer on loved ones. I worked on this post over multiple days, compiling and organizing feedback from many people who had watched a family member or friend face the disease. I learned that it can be just as hard to watch someone go through cancer treatment as to experience it oneself. In my conclusion, I wrote: "I have come to realize just how much a cancer diagnosis affects the loved ones of the patient. I had seen it to some extent, but hadn't fully appreciated until now how hard it is for the caregivers. It's a story that isn't often told."
Living with grief
In May, I shared a second post summarizing readers' feedback, this time on living with grief. In response to the question "How did you overcome grief?", readers shared a diverse set of answers, but with a common theme: we don't overcome grief; we simply learn to live with it. For example, one woman wrote to me: "Grief never ends. But it changes. It's a passage, not a place to stay." I took comfort in the notion that coping with grief requires that we learn to live without the physical presence of the person we are missing, but we retain their abstract presence through our memories.
Helping build a home
Shane took possession of his condo in late December 2021, which meant that much of our work to make it a home took place in 2022. From assembling furniture to outfitting his home to organizing his space, Shane and I learned that we make a great team. We listen well, we respect each other's opinions, and we appreciate each other's strengths. Helping Shane set up his apartment motivated me to put my own home in order—a task that was simplified by virtue of having more space available after Shane had moved out.
Accomplishments log
In April, I started keeping a daily accomplishments log. Each day, I noted things I did that furthered a goal that was important to me, such as exercising, spending time with loved ones, or serving others. After I defined my priorities in June, I started tagging each accomplishment with the priority it linked to, such as health, family and learning. Keeping an accomplishments log—which I maintain to this day—motivates me to focus on my priorities. It also provides a helpful record of what I've done, including which recipes I've tried and what I would do differently if I made them again.
Learning a new language
In my post Better late than never, I shared a list of things that it's never too late to do, such as apologize, wish someone happy birthday or pass a driver's test. I'm not sure what motivated me to include "learn a language" in that post in March, but by August, I was doing just that. I started learning Portuguese in late summer after struggling to communicate with a man from Brazil who was staying with his daughter across the street from me. Yesterday, when I went to a Portuguese bakery in Ottawa, I was astounded by how much I could understand when reading the words on various products. This year, I discovered that learning a language, or even just words in another language, is fun, stimulating and incredibly rewarding.
Something that still makes me smile
One of the gifts of putting my writing out to the world each day is the feedback I get in return. Something that still makes me smile is a tiny story that a friend told me. She made a new dish for supper one night and asked her partner what he thought of it. He replied: "Well, if you were to lose this recipe, I wouldn't go looking for it."
Pride-in-your-child day
This year, I made up a new holiday: Pride-in-your-child Day. The motivation came from a question my daughter posed at dinner one evening. She said: "We have Father's Day and Mother's Day, but not really Children's Day." Then she asked me: "What makes you proud of your children?" It was an easy question to answer, but it reminded me that I don't always tell my children what they do well. For Christmas this year, I gave each of my children a card, identifying some of their accomplishments in 2022 and other things that made me proud of them. I plan to do this each Christmas.
Saying goodbye to Freddie
One of the hardest days this year was saying goodbye to our beloved pet, Freddie. He passed peacefully just a few hours before the Queen. One of my sisters-in-law wrote to me: "Queen Elizabeth II will need a special dog in her new life. Freddie will be there as a great companion." In the three months since he's been gone, we have taken solace in the knowledge that he is at peace.
Turnip fries
Among my favourite posts are those that recount one or more stories, particularly humorous ones. I loved writing Turnip fries and other lies I told my children. When my kids were small, I cut turnip—actually, they were rutabaga but, like many people, I used the wrong term—into the shape of French fries and called them turnip fries. Writing down stories is a gift for my children.
Just live
When I look back at everything I wrote over the course of 2022, I am struck by how much it reflects my intention to just live. Many posts begin with a reflection on something I did, something I read or something that someone shared with me. Perusing my posts, and the accompanying visuals, is like looking at a year's worth of newspaper clippings: I'm reminded of events and thoughts that I've since forgotten. When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in July 2020, I didn't know how long I had to live, so I was determined to live each day well. That didn't mean grandiose experiences, such as big trips. For me, it was spending time with family, organizing my home, taking care of my health, writing and learning, and seeking peace. I have lived well in 2022. Long may it continue.
