A sister is a forever friend.

The comments and cards are pouring in again and I'm so thankful! I especially love hearing from those of you who were very dear companions in my past with whom I have sadly lost touch. Getting reacquainted with old friends is one of those especially heartwarming experiences in life. I don't think it is a coincidence that the resurgence of encouragement from you and a remarkable boost in my energy came at roughly the same time, which was just before my sister Jody's visit from Kentucky.

With our father, mother, and sister all passing recently from cancer, Jody took an astounding 17 trips to Wisconsin and Florida last year to be with her family, which should give you an idea of the kind of dependable and caring sister she is. By now she's made more support visits than she could count on her fingers and toes and still never seems to be suffering from jet lag! Her high energy has gotten me out to lunch, to the mall, and cruising along the beach - all out of my pajamas I should add! Jody said my family and I have got to be sick of the same few pairs of pajamas I spend most days in now, so she's taking mine back to Kentucky and buying me a fresh set! We have shared all the laughter and tears you would expect between two sisters separated by distance, and I'll be sad to see her go. One of the funniest parts for me was watching Bob, Erin, and Mackenzie join Jody for her 3-mile walking exercise video. I sat back and chuckled as I watched the crew do kickbacks, knee highs, and grapevines across my living room while the girls harped on Bob for hanging in the back so he could cheat. Bob was sweating and smiling as he sat down to enjoy a chocolate cookie after exercising.

I've been thinking lately about an apprehension I felt when I first learned of my diagnosis, and which I know some of my friends who have been through cancer grappled with. When I knew I would lose my hair, I wondered how people would receive me. I thought they would stare and make me uncomfortable. But every time I stepped out of my house, I was surprised to find I didn't receive a second look from anyone! It seems cancer has in some way touched the lives of most people in our time, so a woman with no hair is hardly shocking anymore. Instead of feeling self-conscious about my new look, I felt completely accepted. There's no reason for the effects of our treatment to cause us to hide away, because cancer has become a worldwide issue that people are aware of and empathetic toward.

In fact, I found I was the only one giving myself a second look - every time I passed a mirror. Who is that old woman?! All the reader's in my generation will understand what I'm talking about. I think I know the radiant beauty I'm going to see, but when I step in front of the glass I see someone's grandmother! But the grandmother is starting to become more familiar to me, and now I usually don't need a second look. I don't know if this growing recognition of my mirror image is a good thing or a bad thing, but I thought it was a fascinating process, so I've included it for your reading intrigue.

I was able to rejoin my friends at art class last week where I talked with some of them about their own experiences with cancer. I lamented my growing fatigue to them, and they said, "If your treatment is making you feel this way, just think of what it's doing to the cancer in your body." I like that outlook. My cancer should be pooped-out by now! And they assured me that as I stop the chemo, my energy will be fully restored.

So with future restored energy in mind, Bob and I are making plans for after Steve and his family's visit next week, starting with the boat day we've pencilled in with friends on Bob's birthday!