Marble and Hostess Cupcakes

It is Thursday. I am here and paralyzed, well, not really but stunned, for sure. He said it is the size of a marble. I can't take this in - the words have meaning but I fight not to understand. Is that possible? Can I become ignorant to language, unable to comprehend, pretend I lost my vocabulary? No easy feat. My heart swelled and then deflated when he said, "I didn't think I was scared, but as soon as I heard your voice I just had to tell you." I felt so close to him, so intimate, so thrilled that it was me, me he trusted, me that he confided....me. I told him not to wait, not to see if the marble rolled away. He agreed, we hung up, he called me back. His appointment, Friday at 2:00.


(I use the "f" word as this post unfolds - sorry in advance if anyone is offended)

It is Friday morning - I feel sick. I don't know what words I will be writing later. All of my writings about truth and surrender and faith and courage and handling and facing whatever seems like total bullshit this morning. I want it to be an outcome that will make me scream in gratitude and celebration of all that is good and fair and right. This is my boy, my son..

God, please......

Mean while I made cupcakes, Hostess cupcakes exactly like the ones in the packages, me and JoJo, my best good friend - her son and my son are best friends - I went to her house, and she showed me how to make Hostess cupcakes - and we cried when I told her my fear, and we hugged, and we baked while we waited. And look at these cupcakes.













And so my son called, and he said that the doctor said "not to worry, it is NOT a tumor, keep an eye, and here is a name for a specialist should there be any changes, but I don't think there is anything wrong"!!!!!!!!! I feel relieved, not screaming relief but relieved - it is NOT a tumor. And what of my doubt, my lack of faith, my being ready to tell God to "F__K OFF!! Hah!! That means I am human - that means I am SO alive. That means I can feel whatever I need to feel to get to the next moment. That means I was revving up to fight. Sometimes I read some of the, shall we say, more syrupy posts, mine included, and I want to stick my finger down my throat. As if to say, - c'mon, no one is that "at peace" or that trusting" or that "one with themselves and the universe", or that "in tune" or that "forgiving" or that "I am right where I am suppose to be" or that "surrendered" all the time, every moment. Sometimes before any of that can ever happen I/we/you need to be really, really angry at whatever just fell on me, you, us like a freaking ton of bricks!! I am not going to be smiling, at first, or happy for the "gift of the opportunity", please - that is ridiculous. In retrospect, sure, I have had many tragic things happen and each one is now a gift of character and passion and truth and I know how important each experience was - but don't anyone tell me my son has cancer and expect me to go singing merrily along, don't even think about it. It's not fucking happening, not now, not ever. So for today, I am relieved - I am so relieved - it is not a tumor. My boy is okay. If that makes me lacking in some spiritual depth than so be it - Personally, I think I would be quite spiritually shallow were I to find even a moment of gratitude in an outcome such as a child's illness. Yes, spiritually shallow indeed. So on this one I take the high road, shallow, deep, whatever. I do not believe for one second that God would have wanted me to praise him on high today if that marble was a tumor. No fucking way!!



Gail
peace - sorta