debutaunt.com

How to Wake Me. Thoroughly

Sleeping.

Like the dead last night.

I went to this really cool poetry reading, and hung out at a coffee shop with a few of the poets.

I went to bed late, but was snuggly and warm.

So at about 3am I feel this wicked poking sensation. I sleepily swat at my arm and end up flinging some kind of creature, about an inch long, across the room.

I AM NOW WIDE AWAKE.

I turn on the light and don't see anything.

But I'm thinking it was one of these:

I watch some tv for a while. Just when I was about to fall asleep, Zoe's alarm goes off. I am now debu_zombie. I take Zoe to school and come back and snooze.

I can do this. I just need Starbucks. Lots and lots of Starbucks.

Your assignment for today is to go to bed early tonight. Matter of fact, try to do that all week. BTW, I haven't gotten a single, solitary boyfriend from not one of you. Do you no longer care? Have I offended? Do I smell?

P.S. My hair looks kinda cute now. Ive got this cowlick Dennis the Menace thing going on. I don't put hair product in my hair, so it just sticks up a tiny bit at the back of my head. I'm just dreading the spiky growth period. I'll look like that chick from Bravo's show Workout.

A whole cute overload

Zoe is a whole cute overload in and of herelf. Did y'all notice that my hair is growing in exactly like Zoe's did when she was a baby? Here she is at like 8 1/2 months old.

Biopsy had to be rescheduled for next week. Thanks for the anxiety, doc.

Actually it wasn't his fault. He never heard from my MD Anderson research nurse. He wanted to make sure he knew exactly what they wanted him to test for before he sent them the results. He said he didn't want to have to do two. He's a good man.

I also am now back on the steroids. A small dose. It seemed to clear up the nausea and made me feel well enough to eat last week. As soon as they wore off, so did my appetite. He said he is going to taper it down to as small of dose as possible.

Thanks for the good wishes and advice. This is why I love you peoples.

Zoe - still money grubbing. "Mom, can I have a ten buck?"

And Ms. Pants, you made me snort with that one. I love old school.

Tomorrow Comes Too Fast for Me

I have my six month bone marrow biopsy and aspiration Monday (aka, today, it's 4am and I can't sleep). They sedate you here.

As my sweetest friend used to say, "I ain't gonna lie."

I'm scared.

I drive by this funeral home all the time. I'm so tempted to go in and buy some prepaid funeral thing. I've been feeling really unsure lately. I've been hearing about way too many deaths. I've been watching too much Six Feet Under. Enough already!

I cried at mass today. I was saying my rosary. It was the rosary the hospital volunteers gave me when I had encephilitis. I remember having it in my pocket with this stone my friend D1 gave me. The stone is clear and has a white angel in it. I would't let anyone take it away from me. I held it all in my hand most of the time. I couldn't remember my prayers to go with the rosary back then, but I knew somehow that it was important to me. So I carried my cellphone and my rosary bag/stone with me everywhere. I couldn't figure out how to use my phone except to call Monkeyboy. And even then, he'd text me to call his cell, and I'd end up always calling his office. But looking at the rosary again, just made me cry.

I sat in church and just started getting frightened about tomorrow. I prayed. I prayed that the biopsy won't hurt. I prayed for my results to be clean still. I really hope it's in God's plan that I never relapse or get cancer again. I was strong the first time, but now I feel broken. Weak. Vunerable. Like I wouldn't be able to go through that ordeal again. That I couldn't put my family through it again. That I wouldn't be able to survive it this time.

And that I wouldn't want to do it alone. Meaning, I went through the majority of my treatment with Monkeyboy by my side. I felt loved and beautiful. He reminded me to be strong, even in the middle of the night when I'd call him. He reminded me that we had our great future to look forward to, so our number 1 priority was for me to get better. He cheered me up all day, every day. It was the sweetest thing. He was a great boyfriend.

Even when I was at my sickest. I felt like a teenage girl. I was head over heels with this man who knew me almost better than I knew myself. I'm sure he still does. It wasn't so much of the support, but the knowledge that this man truly and absolutely loved me carried me through it. That I was as much of a support to him as he was to me. I was his sunshine. And he was my rock.

Now that I'm on my own, I'm sure I could do it, but it would just be so lonely. Bad enough I had to be apart from my Zkat for months on end, but the majority of the time I was alone. I know I had tons of support from my friends, my family and the internets, but it isn't the same, and still felt really lonely. I could never replace him or his love and support, so I'm not. I couldn't find a man who loves me more than that. More than bald. More than vomiting. More than encephilitis. More than hallucinating and crying and paranoia. More than doctors and needles and steroids and shots and biopsies and tests. More than my cancer. He just loved me. Just me. His Deb.

Well, I'm can't allow myself to worry about it. It makes me too sad. I just can't do it. I kicked cancer's ass. And I've made a few San Antonio friends. I still cry about him. I still miss my boy. I always will, but it really is his loss. I know it. I sometimes have to try to convince myself of that. Sometimes you all have to convince me of that. But I also know he knows it**.

I can do this. I have a sweet cowgirl by my side.

Your assignment is to wish me luck. Or find me a new boyfriend. Actually I think I need to erase my brain like in The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. But if you send me one, make him tall.

And this is what is known as the patented deb_bitch. If you're not up for it, close it out now.

" I always will, but it really is his loss. I know it. I sometimes have to try to convince myself of that. Sometimes you all have to convince me of that. But I also know he knows it**."

**Even his "idiot wife" knows it too.

And no, I don't feel bad about calling her that. Because she's such a pathetic, sad, creepy person that she couldn't help herself. And she reads my blog. (she and her daughter both sent me nasty emails - how cool are they?) I hope they are :cough:pretendingtobe:cough: happy staying married together.

Secretly both hating their lives. Just like before.

I'd rather have cancer. Actually,
I'd rather have cancer of the butt than be stuck in a marriage where "I should have divorced her ten years ago."

Yeah, we "didn't have a relationship," right? I was "chasing" him. He just "felt sorry" for me. That's why he had to talk to me like 24/7. He always needed his "debtime." That's why he came to visit me repeatedly. Mrs. Idiot, don't believe one fucking word he says about me. I'm sure he will say whatever he has to in order to get in your good graces again. (yeah AGAIN - just like last time) You may have known him longer, but I'll always know "the real" him better. The person he really is when he's not being judged and belittled and insulted. When he truly is being loved. And I "ain't gonna lie," I KNOW I'll always kiss him better. (whoops, guess you will have to think about me every time you kiss him)

[aside]
Generally I never believe any married man and his complaints against his wife. But then the witch sent me an email. Not to mention, where was she when he was making 2-3-6 hour phone calls to me all night? Every night? (this was before I knew he was even married - before he moved out) So basically, I'm like, case closed. Where is my Grade A lousy, creepy wife stamp? I'm sure he drove her to it, but she's the dumbass that didn't kick him out for good.

There you go. I should charge you all for this marriage counseling. You both now can have a solidarity in your hatred for me.

And Mrs. Idiot, will you finally STOP READING MY BLOG. I want to move on. I need to move on. Before Zoe is old enough to read all of this. Kind of like how you told your children about their dad, the man whore, and sent them on spying missions on his email and phone records. You even installed spyware at his office. Isn't that illegal? What address do I send the mother of the year award to? Oh. Wait. I already know it exactly. It's the house he was going to buy for us when we got married. Your house. On the river. It's a beautiful house, but holds lots of ugly secrets.

Friday, She in Love

Friday night was a blast. Reuben V is like a young Santana. He's funky, has soul, and an amazing voice. His original music is great. His band is great. I was so glad I went. My friend was fun. He brought his roommate and she is like a character on SNL. She is so funny and makes these total rubber-faces that crack me up. I'm glad I didn't chicken out. I even work high heels.

Yesterday was a Mommy/Zoe Saturday. We had a great time, although she woke up as Miss Crankypants. She went to a church ice cream party with my Dad Friday night and ended up staying up beyond late. She woke up telling me about her friends being there. This play where THE GUY YELLED THE WHOLE TIME. And how the power went out in the elevator and they got trapped.

She wanted McDonald's pancakes for breakfast, but mom wasn't having it. There are so many new places for me to find here, so I wanted some real food. She loved the place I picked. French toast with powdered sugar and eggs and bacon. I barely ate again. The steroids helped for a few days, but then they stopped and I'm not eating again.

Then we decided to go to the Tower of the Americas. She LOVED it.

"Mommy, you can see the whole wide world."

"Can we live up here?"

"Can we come back tomorrow? I want to go here every week."

And she loved going to the outside observation deck. It's really windy and our hats flew off.

[aside]
You see I'm trying to teach Zoe the value of good skin care. Which includes wearing sunscreen, using moisturizer, and wearing hats with a wide brim. She tans easily, but she has random freckles (the cutest one is the one on the tip of her nose. She also has a matching one behind her knee, just like I do). So we both wore these woven cowboy hats. Hers is so cute on her. It's never too early to start taking care of your skin.

So Windy:

I think we were there for well over an hour. She wanted to see the Hillary Duff movie again, but I'd rather eat dirt. So we saw Step Up instead. It wasn't really a kid movie, but I knew Zoe would love the music and the dancing. Which she did.

My friends then came over for dinner. Their A/C went out, which is truly unbearable in Texas. So they grilled some chicken and we hung out and watched The Silence of the Lambs - still a damn spooky movie.

Ok, well it's like 1pm and I am still in my jammies. I'm going to a church thing at 5 for new parishoners and then we are going to go to mass.

I can do this. I'm exploring my city.

Your assignment for today is to find a visitor's type spot in your city. Maybe you've been there before, maybe not. But just go check it out. I haven't lived here in about 15 years, but it's kind of fun to do all the touristy things like a newbie. Enjoy!

I'm trying. I'm trying. But it's not working.

Surprise!

I came home to find a man in my bed.

His name is:

KEN

or is it Jacqueline?

That Zoe. A neverending source of amusement.

Zoe Baby Go Go Go

Zoe's learning to write. They write letters home every Friday, and the parents are supposed to write a letter back.

This week's letter:

August 25, 2006

Dear Mom and papa
and Mo Mo Mo
This week I play with
Megan. Love, Zoe

(Papa and Momo G are my parents)

Sentimentally Stupid

I am thinking way too much.

Tonight I am going to listen to some live music with a friend. He is a boy.

I am going to have fun, even if I have to pretend to have fun.

I don't drink, but I feel like getting shitty drunk.

I blame the steroids.

I hate that I miss you. You could never be as sad as me.

Barium aka the dookie shake, Meet My Stomach

Today was the worst clinic day EVAH!

I had the second round of gut busting tests. This was a barium swallow to make sure my esophogus is working. The doctor was asking me all kinds of questions about my history and said, "well while we have you here, I think I'm going to do an upper and lower GI too."

So there's this technician. Of course he's cute. All the dudes that see my guts are cute. He explains the procedure, hands me the most heinous looking gown of all time, leaves me in this freezing room, and goes to get the doctor. Who was cute too, in a Tim Gunn sort of way. And he was cute AND funny.

The tech makes me stand up on this ginourmous x-ray machine. I'm shaking I'm so cold. And I'm nauseous, but of course. Like big time nauseated. The shaking makes it worse.

The test is where you have all this chalky, smelly, thick like a milkshake drink. They make you drink some, and then he hands you this shot glass of white pop rocks. He says, ok, when I pour the water in this, you need to choke it back and drink it like a shot. Great. Horrible test and frightening flashbacks of everclear jello shots - the last drink I had before I got sick.

So I drink some of the thick chalky stuff. It sticks to your mouth. I can barely get it down and I feel the gag.

Debu to herself: DO NOT HORK. NO HORKING ALLOWED

Tech: Ok, keep drinking this. Just a little more. Just a little more.

It has the consistency of a mix of phlegm and a rancid vanilla milkshake.

Debu to herself: Seriously, DO NOT HORK. YOU WILL BE SORRY. DANGER DEBU_ROBINSON.

So they hand me the pop rocks. My hands are shaking, so I'm afraid I might spill it. He pours in the water and it fizzes like an Alka Seltzer. Then, I realize I can't swallow it. I'm trying and trying, but can't get it down. It tastes horrible. I almost spit it out, but finally closed my eyes and got it down. I think God helped me do that, because I have no idea how that worked out right.

Then they had the machine make me go from standing to laying down on my back. They take a bunch of pictures, then make me flip over. The tech tells me I'm going to have to pull my jeans down. After having the 239009 people take a peek at my catheter and my nekkid debu_cooch at MD Anderon, I'm soooo not shy about dropping trou anymore. I probably could streak through the hospital and not even care.

He throws a blanket over my ass (and yay for cute panties) Anyway, I'm on my stomach and the tech brings me yet another dookie shake. It's got this huge straw in it and I'm supposed to suck it down. It's next to impossible. My stomach is cramping and I'm like... oh, damn. I am going to barf. I stop for a second.

Debu to herself: Ok. Calm down. You can do this.

I start breathing slowly. The take about a gazillion more x-rays. I'm still trying not to choke on this crap.

Finally, finally, it's over. I'm sitting up, my stomach is in knots, and it's over. I thank the Baby Jesus and get dressed.

So then I make it up to my clinic. Just like yesterday, they decided to give me 2 liters of fluids and some *sniff sniff* steroids. Yes, some medrol. HATE IT!!! I think the 8 pounds in a week weightloss kind of freaked them out. So I'm like thank God for iPod. I just downloaded a bunch of The Mavericks. And I'm listening to it, and I start crying. Like a big ol' baby.

I kept thinking how tired I am of doctor's offices. Of tests. Of feeling sick. More tests. Meds. Of feeling alone. I miss my guy. I miss his support when I had my clinic days. Funny text messages to make me forget that I feel super crappy. The songs all seem so sad. The fluids are running really fast. They bring me this lunch, which I cannot eat, and I start shivering. It was similar to the debu_quake I had the other day. I just lay there with my legs twitching. It's more annoying than painful.

I can't seem to stop crying. Like all quietly. This hospital doesn't have private rooms, but I'm in this recliner and you can close the curtains. I miss my MD Anderson rooms. I miss having some privacy and not talking to people if I don't want to. My iPod is my wall of antisocial behavior. I don't want to know their stories. I don't want to know their relapses, complications, death sentences. I just want to go home and play with my kid. Except when I get home, I feel so crappy I don't want to do anything.

Here is my super antisocial face. You see it is saying: I AM LISTENING TO MY IPOD. DO NOT TALK TO ME. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW YOUR STORY.

I can do this. I have my beloved iPod.

Your assignment for today is to drink a real milkshake. One that tastes good. Or even a Dr. Pepper float. Hit the dairy queen. Sometimes that stuff is soooooo good. Drink something that won't make you hork. Even better, drink it and then go for a nice walk or hit the gym.

I miss you internets.

More and More Tests

I'm just tired today.

I'll be funnier later.

Dr. Dr. Gimme the News

I know what I'm going to do. If I write about it, I'm not going to post it. I just can't hate him or be mean. I can't do that to him after how much he loved and supported me for so long when I was sick. What we had was special, so if I write it, it will make it not special anymore. And no matter what happens, I will always love the guy. He was really good to me and was there when I needed him.

I'm tired. I saw my doctor today. I've lot 8 pounds this week. Misery.

More tests tomorrow. Then hopefully I will have some kind of answer.

I love him. I can't help it.

Ok. I feel evil even just thinking about my last entry. I already know the answer.

Unbreakable
Raul Malo ~ Only the Lonely

took my hand,
touch my heart,
held me close,
you were always there, by my side,
night and day,
through it all,
baby come what may,
swept away on a wave of emotion,
oh were caught in the eye of a storm,
and whenever you smile,
i can hardly believe that your mine,
believe that your mine.

this love is unbreakable,
its unmistakable,
and each time i look in your eyes,
i know why,
this love is untouchable,
i feel in my heart just cant deny,
each time i look in your eyes ohh baby,
i know why,
this love is unbreakable.

share the laughter,
share the tears,
we both know,
we`ll grow old from here,
cause together,we are strong,
in my arms,thats where you belong,
i`ve been touched by the hands of an angel,
i`ve been blessed by the power of love,
and whenever you smile,
i can hardly believe that your mine.

this love is unbreakable,
its unmistakable,
each time i look in your eyes,
i know why,
this love is untouchable,
i feel in my heart just cant deny,
each time you whisper my name ohh baby
i know why.

this love is unbreakable,
through fire and flames,
when all this is over,
our love still remains.

this love is unbrekable,
its unmistakable,
each time i look in your eyes,
i know why,
this love is untouchable,
i feel in my heart just cant deny,
each time you whisper my name ohh baby,
i know why.

cause each time i look in your eyes ohh baby,
i know why,
this love is unbreakable.

Life in the Big Little City

Mmmm. Today I had a Starbucks venti iced latte - and yay for finding the closest drive thru (because I was kindasorta in my jammies). I'm slowly using up the eleventymillion Starbucks bucks I've been given.

Saturday, again, was super fun.

First we saw the new Hillary Duff movie (where's my spork to gouge my eyes). Zoe absolutely loved it, but I swear Hillary and her sister looked like hookers. They wore the skimpiest clothes, high heels, and tons of makeup. Why do all the cute Disney girls turn into these nasty, cheap looking ho-cakes? It's so hard because Zoe has seen all their "cute" movies. Lindsey, Hillary, The Olsen Anorexics. Now they all are so disgusting - especially Brittney Spears. She is the Queen of Fug.

Then we went to the Riverwalk again and walked around. I got this cool manicure set that makes your nails look shiny just by buffing them and then got Zoe a haircut.

She looks super cute and was all fixing it yesterday. We also had a mommy/Zoe mani/pedi day. My nails are really long now and nearly look fake. I think it's from all the vitamins.

I've been sleeping like cacapoo lately. I can fall asleep ok, but then I wake up and my head is going a million miles an hour. I've been hashing the whole Monkey Boy-Gate in my head over and over; and, on one hand, while I still love him insanely, and know I always will, I'm so tempted to start writing about the entire situation. I absolutely know it is book worthy. It's definitely dramatic, and an interesting read. I had already planned on writing a book, but I guess this is as good a place as any to write about it. At least it is more interesting than talking about haircuts and stomach queasy stuff.

Besides, I think it may help me to move past him. I still think of him all the time. I know I shouldn't, but I find myself sending him email and text messages. I think way too much about the future we planned and talked about. How wonderful it sounded. How well he treated me. I guess it's because the last time I talked to him, he ended up crying and telling me that he could never forget me. That he will always love me, but that we must say goodbye. That we had to. And for me to move on. That I deserved better. It really was agonizing.

But writing about this may fuck up his life. And after what he did to me, sometimes honestly I think he deserves to have his life fucked up - at least a little bit. I'm really not the revenge type, but when I talk about it to my close friends, they all think he took big time advantage of me. I know he thought that sometimes. But I never seemed to have the hate for him I know I should have. I just couldn't. I'm not sure if that's my nature, or if I am just wired so messed up that I can't see that what he did to me was almost unconscionable. One person even went so far as to say he was a sociopath. I don't know if that is untrue. I hate to believe it, but she may have been right.

I can do this. I just have to decide if I want to do that.

Your assignment today is to give me some advice (you can email me instead if posting makes you feel uncomfortable). And if you read this, and don't have advice, please just say hi. I feel lonely as heck. Thinking about him makes me feel like I'm going crazy.

Seriously. I'm still so incredibly sad so much of the time. I miss talking to him. I miss knowing someone thought I was beautiful, even when I was broken. I miss knowing someone (romantically) loved me. I know that my friends and family love me, but it isn't the same, you know? One day I was the be all and end all, going to be married by my 40th birthday, and then the next day, it's just over? Gutwrenching. Especially since I know he still loves me.

So give me some advice. Should I write about this? Should I jack up his life a bit, since he has messed so much with my head? Knowing you all, I know if you knew the truth, you would be like OH HELL YEAH!

One of my lovliest friends said about Monkey Boy: "my advice - nail the sucker and his idiot wife. move on with someone that Mom would love...."

It's a Woo Woo Saturday

And Zoe and I are going to do somthing. What exactly, I don't know, but we are going to do something.

Mom made potato salad. Seem that I can eat that. I had it for breakfast. Other than that, I'm not eating much else. Mom said she can tell I'm losing weight. I think I'd rather be eating.

I miss y'all.

Happy Saturday. I'll have some assignments soon. But just enjoy your day.

Sweet Ashley

I took Zoe to school today. I have a massage appointment at 11am that I'm looking forward to. I'm going to make this short because I'm too sad.

I decided to go to sleep when I got back for a little bit, and was awoken by my phone ringing. It was my friend Ashley's mom. They buried her Saturday. She was only 23.

The first time I saw Ashley, she was on her way to the Leukemia Clinic at MD Anderson, in a wheelchair being pushed by her mom. She was so pretty. She had a pink ribbon wrapped around her hair, which was white-blonde and spikey - about an inch long. She had her nails done, her makeup on and had the cutest little pink track suit.

I didn't talk to her that day, but saw her several times after. One day, Sis #1 and I were waiting to get called into the lab for bloodwork. We sat near Ashley and her mom and we started talking. She and I were practically twins. She was diagnosed the day before I was, with ALL as well. I think her leukemia was more advanced than mine, though, as her white counts were over 300,000 when she was diagnosed, and mine were only (yeah "only") 117,000.

We were about a week apart on our chemo treatments and had the same doctor. She was going to have a stem cell transplant and her sister was her donor. We talked for an hour or more. She was such a cute girl, but was really having a hard time coping with her treatment.

I'd see her at least once a week and she and her mom and I would compare notes on where we were. I remember talking to her before her transplant. She was scared, but was so hopeful. I didn't see her for a few weeks, but made a point to find her the day I checked in for my transplant. I went to her room. What I saw was so shocking. Her hair had fallen out again. She was so gaunt and weak. She was bedridden as every time she stood up, her blood pressure would drop and she'd faint. Her mom looked tired, but still was so cheerful. She told me if I needed anything, that she'd be happy to get it for me.

Ashley told me about some of what she had gone through. I was frightened, but glad to kind of have a realistic idea of what to expect. You read about transplants, but when you actually go through it or talk to someone, you realize how awful it is.

I didn't see her for a while, but she used to call me when I was going through my transplant and in the hospital for a month. I saw her on and off in the ATC (post transplant center). I remember talking to her after she had relapsed and she was so upset that everyone we went through with was doing so well, so why had she relapsed so quickly? She was frustrated and mad. They also had her on some major psych drugs as she was mentally just so messed up about it.

I remember that day because her mom came out later. I was in the waiting room and she was sobbing. A nurse was with her and they walked down the hall. When she came back, she saw me and gave me the biggest hug. She could not stop crying. I knew that day that this disease was so much worse on others than it is really on you. I have her an extra hug and she went back to Ashley.

They were about to start her on some experimental chemo. They debated on whether on not they would stay at MDA or go to the Mayo Clinic, but Ashley wanted to stay. I didn't see her for a long time after that. Then one day, after my bout with encephilitis, I ran into her mom. She was so excited to see me and told me Ashley was right around the corner. I walked down and was so sad at what I saw. She looked like a zombie, a skeleton. She was so frail and her skin tone was like gray. She nibbled a little on a hamburger, but it was like looking at the walking dead. I knew she wasn't doing too well. I had this feeling that she was not long for this world.

Today that call just reminded me of how much I hate this disease. It's devastating.

Today I choose to remember sweet Ashley in her pinky pinkness. She was a beautiful girl, with a beautiful spirit.

RIP Sweetness.

Oy the Brekhn

I barely ate today. It's agonizing. I'm really hurting.

So for once, Zoe is kind of sleepy. So she showers and puts on some lotion and her jammies. All teeth and her hair are brushed. We are going to read Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends." It's one of our favorites. BTW, that is the coolest website.

But first I have to take my night meds. Zoe helps me sort through the eleventymillion bottles. And I pick out the pills to take. Usually I start with the biggest to make sure I have enough water to swallow those horse pills.

So I start taking them. And I am having like this weirdly hard time swallowing them. I get down to the last two pills. They are teeny tiny, and I normally take them both together. I pop them in and then it starts. I'm choking and coughing at the same time. Zoe is looking at me scared as all get out.

I know it. I know immediately I'm going to throw up. I tell Zoe, "Go get Momo G." She must have booked because she was back in like 5 seconds. And then, I throw up 17 pills and the cereal I ate for dinner. I can't seem to stop and Zoe is kind of freaking. She's never seen me sick like that before.

I hate it. I hate that she saw me like that. Hunched over the can and sick as a dog. It made me so sad. Last week I was crying and now she's seen me get violently ill. I hate this. I hate feeling like this. Helpless. And feeling hopeless. It makes me just want to go to bed and wake up in a year or two. Tonight, after she fell asleep, I lie in the dark and cried.

She was so sweet though. I told Momo to start reading our book to her. Mom is the best story teller of all time. She uses different voices and really projects the story, or in this case the poems. I finally stopped being sick and brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face. I sat on the bed and Zoe immediately grabbed my thumb in her whole fist. She's been doing that since she was a baby.

In between laughing, she would touch my cheek. And give me kisses. She strokes my hair. And snugged all up with me in her princess jammies. My little sweet Baby Changa. I am so lucky. I am ever so lucky.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Shel Silverstein

RIP, Shel. You were one in a million.

Immuno What?

Ok. So I had my endoscopy. The doctor was beyond cute. It was unnerving. "Uh, hello waygoodlooking doctor. Welcome to my esophogus." But they knocked me out, so I didn't really care.

According to cutedoc and the pathologist, I do not have graft vs. host. Nor do I have any perforations or ulcers. My doc, Dr. B, wants to re-run the pathology just to make sure. He also scheduled me for some barium test to see if maybe my esophogus works incorrectly. Like it may be uncoordinated or something, so they want to check it. I also am scheduled to meet with some psych lady. Just in case this anorexia is all in my head and not some side effect of the poison they've been giving me for months. Yay! Fun! More tests!!

I can tell you now, it's so not in my head. I dig food. I'd be skinny were it not for the superfantastic that is Mexican food.

But I still can't really eat. Yesterday I had 2 bites of a taco and four grapes. Later we met for dinner, and I ate a bit more. But I still feel super lousy. At least I've lost like six pounds to make up for this agony. It's the diet nobody wants.

So yesterday they had told me my IGG levels were way low and that they'd be giving me some Immunoglobulin. Never heard of it before, so I looked it up. That links it to platelets, but it's also used to help out your immune system.

Apparently it's also the IV from hell for me.

It comes in this huge glass bottle. It's too sticky for a normal IV bag.

You can't really tell from that picture, but it was ginourmous. Like HUGE. The Big Gulp of globulin. It was going to take at least four hours to run. They give you tylenol and some benadryl in case you have any reactions to it, since it's a human blood product. So I'm sitting there bored:

Taking picture of stuff, chillin' in my kicky recliner chair, letting the benadryl work it's sleepy magic...

(I love my New Balance. They give me balance for shizzle. See, I only ate the four grapes. Made an attempt at a strawberry, but I just couldn't do it. So I drank two butt-tons of water instead.)

And I'm bored and it's all cool thanks to my trusty iPod Nano and a new playlist I made, when it hit me. First it started off as this throbbing, crampy pain in both of my kidneys. It was like way way bad. I changed positions. Then stood up. But nearly fell the paid was so bad. So I buzz the nurses and tell them I need a little help.

And then... *BOOM* My body had it's own earthquake. I couldn't stop shaking all over. I get tremors in my hands from time to time from the anti-rejection drug, but this was like my entire body. The nurses all came in and started freaking a bit. They immediately turned off the IV, and asked if my chest hurt, which it did a little; so they gave me the tubey up the nose oxygen. But I was practically hyperventilating at this point. The pain was excrutiating.

Then they called my doc. One nurse had her arms around my bent knees to keep them from shaking. She said I'd be ok, and I told her that I knew that. I just was hurting, but I knew I'd be ok. It was so surreal. They then gave me demorol, lots of it, and told me to take some of my darvon. Now I'm still shaking, but getting big time high.

They said that if they started the IV again, they'd have to give me steroids, otherwise I'd have the same reaction. But instead, they gave me more benadryl. I finally stopped the shaking, but was soooooo Spicoli high. I was a drunk. Totally. The IV ran until after six o'clock. Good thing because I was too high to drive, and by that time the high wore off.

I sure hope I don't need that stuff anymore. It was some evil stuff. How people get high on purpose is beyond me. I can understand the wanting to do it, but the actual being high, well I think it totally sucks. I hate drugs. Hate them. Necessary evil I guess.

I read in the paper about this woman who had a lung transplant. She said that having a transplant was like having another disease. But at least this is one she can live with. Some days I feel that way, but some days I am so sick of the seemingly neverending sick. Truly.

I can do this. I was 6.5 on the richter scale.

Your assignment for today is to learn something new. Take a subject that you are totally unfamiliar with and read about it. (like the richter scale, or poison ivy). I don't know, anything that would be of interest to you. I've been reading up on San Antonio. Trying to find stuff for me and Baby Changa to do. It's a pretty cool city. Zoe says she wants to live here forever. Hmmmm.

My life is eversoquiet without you. I don't like it.

Baby-Changa

"Zoe, don't forget to bring home your PE water bottle today. We need to wash it out so there won't be any germs in it."

"There aren't any germs in our class. We use that Purell hand-itizer stuff."

She's likin' school. I'm thrilled. But waking her up is like waking the dead. So this morning I was teasing her about having Navarro's (a great restaurant) Apple Chimichanga in her belly.

"I'm the Baby Changa. You are the Mommy Changa."

Hey, whatever works.

I will have to take a picture of her in her school jumper. It's adorable; green and blue plaid. They had a holy day of obligation and Zoe wore it for mass. She wanted to wear her shorts under her jumper. I later found said jumper wadded up in her backpack. "Well everyone else was doing it. If I didn't take it off, I would have sweated and smelled like stale stink jumper."

And we can't be havin' that.

Twice for my Saturday, Man

Thoughts at 2:15 am

1. There are way too many freaks on Yahoo.
2. There are way too many freaks on Yahoo that send me instant messages
3. There are way too many freaks on Yahoo that send me instant messages and I hate them
4. If you are a freak on Yahoo and send me an instant message.... Um. NO! I don't want to see up close pictures of your privates.
5. Nor am I interested in letting you suck my toes. Or lick my feet.
6. I have a fever
7. I have a fever and no one knows why
8. I bought shoes today. That made me happy
9. I wish I had money to buy more shoes
10. This classical music mom put on is making me feel nuts
11. Maybe I am nuts

I wore makeup today and had a total Mommy/Zoe day. We used to do those all the time. Just mainly spontaneous days and you take off, no plans in mind.

We did a starbucks drive-by and I had my first iced latte in a month. I was thrilled that it didn't make me feel sick. Then we went to go see Barnyard. It was cute, but the udders on the "Boy Cows" were a bit distracting. Boo Hollywood. Then we bought more school supplies (after I robbed the bank to pay for them). I still have to find just ONE MORE damn THING and then we will be able to supply a third world country with all the stuff we had to buy.

Zoe was hungry by this point, but I wasn't ready to take her home yet. I wanted to do something fun. So I popped a darvon so I could do some walking and we headed downtown.

"Zoe's Reactions to the Riverwalk"

The Alamo - Um. That looks boring. I don't want to go there

Are you lost? AGAIN? (I'm always lost. Even when I know where I'm going, I still get lost)

Do people swim in that yucky water? (the riverwalk)

Where does all the bird poop go? Is that a real door?

That building really does look flat. Do flat people work there?

Can we do that again (as soon as she stepped off the boat)

We went to a steak place as the food court looked like Tuberculosis Central. I had half a salad and a cup of really good chili. Zoe had a filet mignon and fries. I don't know what happend to my child, but she didn't want to eat it because of the "black stuff" aka the grill marks.

Now back in the day, she'd go to a steakhouse, eat an entire steak, and then want mine. No Mickey D's for that kid. Eating out was either sushi (just cream cheese in hers), steak, or the "pancake store" aka IHOP.

It's lateness here. Note Zoe's glossy lips. Just like her momma.

Life is so short, so fast the lone hours fly,
We ought to be together, you and I
~Author Unknown

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am tired, Beloved,
of chafing my heart against
the want of you;
of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
And posting it.
~Amy Lowell, "The Letter"

To die and part is a less evil; but to part and live, there, there is the torment. ~George Lansdowne

Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos. ~Charles M. Schulz

A goodbye isn't painful unless you're never going to say hello again. ~Author Unknown

As soon as forever is through, I'll be over you. ~Toto

I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night. ~Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes

I like to think of it like the last one. That's about all I have left.

I'll always love you.
~Hobbes

Friday, She's in Love

The endoscope. She and I will meet tomorrow at one. I'm not happy. But cancer-related tests never make me happy.

Wish me luck. Or good GI vibes. I'm hoping I get some good knockout drugs.

I also have school orientation in the morning. We get to meet Z's teacher and see her classroom.

Zoe trying on the plaid jumper for school.

"OH. MY. GOD. I LOOK HIDEOUS!!!"

(she really did look cute as a button, but she made me laugh with that one)

Ok. I'm too tired to write. Peace out.

How to Make My Day

Shove a little camera down my throat to find out what is wrong with me. Yay!

I met with Dr. B yesterday. I'm still not eating and always feel pretty damn sick to my stomach. So he is scheduling another endoscope thing to see if I have graft vs. host in my stomach again. I hope that's not it, but I am really tired of feeling like this. It's been about a month.

I have been trying really hard not to let it get to me. Zoe is here and I don't want to frighten her, but I feel downright awful. It is starting to affect other areas of my health. I barely sleep and I feel like I have the flu. I'm having problems walking again. I'm so achy. And I'm extra grouchy. Honestly, I'm really pretty scared. I know it's not stress, as when I'm stressed I usually eat more. But I can barely eat anything without feeling like I'm going to be sick. Nothing sounds good. No sweets, no veggies or fruit. Nothing. It's agonizing.

I'm tired of reading about all these people dying from leukemia and bone marrow transplants. The latest was Susan Butcher. The woman who repeatedly won the Iditarod. Her death is the equivalent to Lance Armstrong dying. I'm sure the death rate is not any higher than before; I know I'm just sensitive to it now. But it seems to me as no one gets better. Or they die. All the ones that have been around for a while have had big time complications.

It's beyond discouraging. I have never really thought that it would be me dying, but lately I am just afraid. I feel like I will never be healthy again. No matter how hard I try or want it. Yesterday I was in the clinic with a guy 3 years out who is having some serious complications. The other guy basically has no chance. He's going to die. Today I just broke down. I cried and cried and felt awful because Zoe was there. She hugged me. For a long time and I told her that I was sorry I was sad, but it wouldn't last long. I lied.

And then today just got worse. Because I had to say my final goodbye this morning to my Monkey Boy. My rock. My love. It was a complicated and intense relationship. One that I will always cherish. I rarely wrote about him because he was so precious to me. Like if others knew, it would be jinxed or doomed. And it was. Obviously it was. One of those sounds too good to be true things. Who the hell would fall in love with a single mom, bald cancer-ridden, no job-havin' chick? I really just guess God sent him to me to help make my ordeal more bearable. Which he totally did. Then my time with him would just be done. I hate it. I totally hate it. And don't understand it. One day I'm the lovliest, most wonderful woman, then the next it's just done.

I can't imagine him not in my life. I can't and I don't want to. We used to talk for hours every day. And tons of text messages - usually either funny, loving or encouraging (or all 3). It's harder to lose a best friend than a boyfriend, but he was both. He really was. I will love that man my entire life.

He was the best boyfriend ever. So loving. So supportive. And so funny. He knew when I needed comfort, and he knew when I needed a kick in the ass. I don't think there is anyone else on this planet that knows me better than he does. Not even my own family.

He deserves true happiness. But I am positive the path he is on is going to lead him eventually again to misery. And I just can't watch it. I can't be second best. As I said, it's beyond complicated. I don't think I could even explain it all if I tried. But he was one of the biggest joys in my life. I know he loves me. I know he misses me. And I know that we would be happy together. For a long time. We were going to get married next year. We talked about it every day. But I can't do it anymore. It's too complicated. It's not good for me to be this sad. And it just really is completely out of my hands.

I know everyone out there tells me that there is someone for me, but I really don't think so. You don't find your one true love more than once. And he is mine. I felt blessed to know him. I miss his sweet smile. No one but us will ever understand the incredible and loving relationship we had. I know he (and other people) want him to forget me, but I also know that he never will either. I really know everyone wants me to forget him too but I know that will never happen. It's just one of those things.

I know my priority is to get better, but this heartbreak is worse than when I split with my husband. Or any other man for that matter. Ok. I'm not going to write about it again, but I am truly devastated. I am going to be alone for a long time. And that's just that. I'm meant for other things.

I really dislike San Antonio. I think it's mostly because I feel so lousy. I miss my MD Anderson team. I miss my friends, of course I miss my Boy, and mostly my Houston family. I am so unmotivated. My parents are so sweet, but it's just not the same. I feel like I'll end up living here forever. I know my folks hates the idea of that, but I guess I can't see past feeling so horrible. I wish it was like when you have surgery. You're sick. You feel like crap. Then eventually you start to feel better. Right now, I can't imagine ever feeling better.

It's hellishly hot here, like Houston, and it makes you want to sleep all day. I also still look like a boy, so people either look at me with pity or like I'm invisible. My new doctor is sweet though. He actually gave me a hug. I think he knew I needed one.

[aside]
Zoe is playing with this really grotesque automated toy. It's this weird fake raccoon thing that is attached to this ball by it's nose. It rolls around on the floor and does these creepy flips. We live in the burbs, but apparently mom saw a skunk on the porch and we saw some deer the other day. Freaky.

[aside over]

I hate writing when I'm in the dumps. It feels so against my nature.

And no, Dad, I know you read my blog, but I really really really don't want to talk about it. My preference right about now would be to crawl in a hole and sulk for a while.

I can do this. But I think I'll have to talk myself back into it again.

Your assignment for today is to send some motivating vibes my way. I'm feeling sorry for myself. I know I am. I hate feeling sad. I hate being sick. This crap is getting really really old. I just want to go play.

I will not forget

How much you love me
Humangous Infinity +12 you said
Our Grace
Our joy
Our sadness
Our sunshine

How could I forget you
And your great capacity to love me

Luke, He is Your Father

Donald Rumsfeld briefed the president this morning. He told Bush that 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed in Iraq. To everyone's amazement, all the color ran from Bush's face, then he collapsed onto his desk,head in hands,visibly shaken,almost whimpering. finally,he composed himself and asked Rumsfeld "Just exactly how many is a brazillion?"

Hustler

Yesterday we went to go get Zoe's school uniforms. Polo shirt and shorts Monday through Thursday and a jumper and blouse on Fridays for mass.

She really didn't want to go shopping. Here is the conversation we had:

ME: Zoe get dressed. We have to go buy your uniform.

Z: I don't want to go. I don't want to wear a uniform.

ME: Everyone will be wearing a uniform. And I'm not giving you a choice.

I was feeling really lousy yesterday. I can't seem to regulate my body temperature, so I'm always freezing, and still am not really eating much. This is way worse than morning sickness because it lasts all day. Therefore, I was in no mood to go shopping much less a debate with the kiddo.

I reach in my pocket and find a wad of bills. I didn't realize it was there, so I always consider this found money.

ME: Ok, I'll give you five bucks if you go. (I'm not above the bribe)

Z: (no hesitation here) Make it ten.

Why does this not surprise me?

Zoe jammin' to Lenny Kravitz

Zoe and the iPod

Song: Get it Poppin' by Fat Joe

It's two up in the morning girl, and the dj playing that song
Now whatcha gon' do
I'ma get get get it poppin' (whatcha gon' do) I'ma get get get it poppin'

Zoe's version:

....I'ma get get get a popsicle (whatcha gon' do) I'ma get get get a popsicle...

I like her version better.

Busy is as Busy Does

Prayers answered. Woo Hoo!!!!

Zoe got into the Catholic school I wanted. I'm totally thrilled. Especially since Zoe was pretty shy about going to the interview yesterday. But when she and the director started talking, Zoe became her Zoe self again. I'm really glad the she was nice. Zoe would never want to go there if her first impression was a bad one. It's a great school. We are so lucky to get in. We are so blessed.

I think I must have made a terrible impression. I was so sick to my stomach, as I'm still not eating much at all. Hopefully Dr. B will be able to figure it out next week. But I could barely hang I felt so bad. My stomach cocktail started kicking in later, and thank goodness, because we were scheduled for a small road trip.

Yesterday was a fun one. We went to New Braunsfels and met up with Sis #1 and a bunch of our old-school Houston friends. It was so good to see them and hang out. They had these little A-line cabins and a pool that was right on the Comal river. It was hot, but was a really nice day. I sat outside for a long time talking with my friend Denise and watching everyone swim. It was the nicest day I've had in a long time. I'd love to go back sometime. I really am going to miss my Houston crowd. Especially my sisters and their kiddos. Beyond cute.

I've been thinking about Zoe's dad lately. He flew down with her last week to bring her home. We drove him to his hotel and he was going to fly out the next day. I could tell he was really sad to say goodbye to Zoe. I know exactly how he feels as I did it when she flew to NY in June. He hugged her for a long time and smothered her with kisses. She kept saying "Bye bye, Daddy. Bye bye, Daddy. I love you." He looked like he was about to cry. We had things to do, and I think he thought we'd hang out more, but it didn't work out that way.

And it was heartbreaking. I even started tearing up. I always wonder what kind of person Zoe would be had we stayed together. But I honestly think she'd be terribly different - and not for the better. We had a fun and loving marriage for about four years - until I got pregnant. Then it morphed into some bad Lifetime Movie, "Anatomy of a Horrific Marriage - She Walks Alone." Towards the end of our marriage, for the last two or three years at least, we either didn't speak to each other or we fought horribly. We rarely did anything together. I felt like a single mom even then. I know in my heart that it just would have been an awful place for Zoe to be.

He's not a bad person, he's just not the person for me. I still believe in marriage. Because I know people that have really good, loving, solid marriages. My parents. My siblings. My friends. I haven't given up and I'm not bitter. But some marriages really should just be over. Mine was one of them.

I forgave him for the awful things he did to us, and we are friendly now, but I know I deserve much better than that. Zoe deserves much better than that. I'd rather be alone forever than be in a loveless relationship. Life is too short to be that unhappy. To be treated with such disrespect. Or emotionally abused. Cheated on or taken for granted. I know marriage isn't all teddy bears and rainbows, but when it starts to feel like drudgery and work, and you are unhappy more than not, it's time to go. I'd rather be single and dateless than be married to an emotional vampire.

So after the pain of the separation, and about a year of the nastiest fighting, we both decided that we needed to be cordial for Zoe's sake. And for my own sanity, I've stayed that way. It's the reason I started my blog years ago, during the worst of the fighting. I knew that it wasn't right for me to be sad or angry around Zoe. That it zapped my energy. That it took away my time with her. And it's cheaper and more theraputic than therapy.

I've never badmouthed him to Zoe. Because I know that he will always be her father. I want him to be happy. And our child adores him and he loves her to no end. I want them to have a great relationship. We get along like old friends now. I think he was the saddest and most concerned when I got sick.

I hate it when I see one parent poison the children against the other. It really is an evil thing to do. It's not fair to take your hatred and pain out on your children. It's sick and pathetic. Let them make up their own mind about their relationship with their parents. Deal with your own issues in a different way, but don't burden your children with your marital woes. After all, that child is half the other parent. You can't change that. When you belittle or badmouth the other parent, you are basically saying the same thing about your own child. Or giving them some serious issues to deal with later on - like... will I turn out like my father? Or be a witch like my mom?

I know Zoe's dad thinks about me. About what it would be like had he not betrayed our marriage. He's often said I was the best thing that happened to him. And I know that Zoe is the best thing that happened to me. So all was not lost. But even through everything I've gone through, and being alone, I'm still much happier than I was during my marriage.

And I'm especially blessed that I don't have to deal with the bad ex issues many of my friends have. Nor am I stuck in the path of low self esteem and unhappiness that my marriage had me headed on. (Funny when you start dating someone who really treats you well, and loves and respects you, that you see how awful it was being with someone who didn't - Thanks Dr. Egypt.)

It's really freeing sometimes. And it's that feeling that makes it ok when I get sad about being single. Or when I start to think all men are horse's asses. I think of the freedom I have with my life. The infinite possibilities. One of Zoe's favorite video's - "Free to Be, You and Me."

I like to think of it as "Free to Be, Me and Z.:

I can do this. Infinity and then some.

Your assignment today is to do something fun. Something unexpected. It's nearing the end of summer - school starts here August 14th already. Take your kids and go play. For those of you that don't have kids, if you like them, borrow some from family or friends and take the littles somewhere fun. The park, swimming, the beach, the country. Go somewhere and just enjoy playing.

And if you are kid-phobic, don't know any, or just don't like 'em, go play yourself. Go waterskiing. Or play beach volleyball. Bowling. Just have some fun.

I can't wait to get my central line out. I love the water. I love to swim. But it pales in comparison to the joy I get watching my child in the water. Watching her laugh. Watching her headstands. Somersaults. Jumping in and out of the water. Watching her freedom.

I love you, Zoe. Love you.

Thanks Deanna Banana. (and Martina McBride)

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the
world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me gives me
strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes

And when she wraps her hand
around my finger
Oh it puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about

It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes

Where We Be

We be in San Antonio.

It was a hard move. Mom had to do so much because I was so nauseated and sick. BIL #1 came to the rescue and moved a few of the heavier things. I have lots to finish unpacking, but I still feel really punk and can't eat much. And I have this sadness that I can't seem to shake. My only joy lately is Zoe. My heart.

I met with my new transplant doc, Dr. B, yesterday. He was really pretty cool, but I'm so used to MD Anderson, that it felt kind of sad. Everyone was friendly enough, but I was so lonely - not knowing any of the faces. My boy would always text message me while I was waiting for my appointments, but I swear my phone hasn't rang in days. I miss him. He's gone too.

Dr. B is going to do an endoscope of my GI if these symptoms persist to rule out graft vs. host again. I am praying that it's not because I sure don't want to go back on the steroids.

I hate this sadness. It's so not me. And anytime I have had it, it doesn't last long. They told me I don't need meds as it's natural to have some of this in times of stress and post transplant. So many stressors in such a short period of time. I used to have a sweet friend constantly tell me... look at how much you have done so far and how well you are doing now. I have to remember that. I try to remember that. Baby steps. Stay on Target.

I was driving home from the hospital yesterday and was just tearing up. There is so much that I miss. Too much whinese, and just when I was really about to sob big time, I pulled into my parent's street and there was my Zoe in the driveway. Tiny broom and duspan in hand, wearing her Houston Texans cheerleader outfit. I honked and she had the biggest smile on her face. She decided on her own that the driveway needed sweeping, so she made Momo G take her outside.

She came running up to my car and gave me the biggest (and stinkiest) hug. God sent this child to me. He really did. There is no sadness around her. She is like sunshine. Like air to me. I'm so glad to be alive for her. Our adventures are just beginning.

I came in, had some soup, and then we went back out to the community center where I sat by the pool while Miss Fish did all her tricks. That child is so happy in the water. I think I should be able to take her every day. I will be much more happy when I can get my line out so I can join her. I'm a swimming fool too. They do have a great gym and lots of exercise classes. I'm thrilled that it's so close to home and will attempt to get my folks out there too. Zoe loves it.

My Zoe also has mastered my iPod. I may never see it again.

Working on Summer Homework in exchange for iPod time:

Zoe "sleeping" aka selective hearing:

My sweet sweet girl

Reunited. And all is well with my world

"no matter what you decide, it won't make me love you any less"

Artist: Beautiful South
Song: This Will Be Our Year

Lyrics :

The warmth of your love's
Like the warmth from the sun
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

Don't let go of my hand
Now the darkness has gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

The warmth of your smile
Smile for me, little one
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

You don't have to worry
All your worried days are gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
We've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...