Cork Pop

I’ve been meaning to post for days. I’ve written posts in my head, none of them terribly compelling, but not sat down to write them, because i’ve been really busy and it occurred to me that real life should take precedence.

I got my shop opened and it looks beautiful! Each and every one of my consignee's is a lovely and talented person, many of whom I’ve come to count as friends and the new one’s have been dreamboats to work with. I had a grand re-opening party which was fun and then I was getting ready for Craftopia which is a large event I host {with two lovely partners} twice a year. It’s stressful and always crazy busy as the event gets closer.

I had a bottle of champagne sitting in my studio mini-fridge, kindly given by an unlikely source at my re-opening party, but I didn’t open it. It was a really good night, but I wasn’t feeling celebratory enough, there just wasn’t the right moment.

Craftopia was yesterday, I’m so tired I can barely walk, but while exhausted, I’m content. It was the best event we’ve put on yet. We got a crazy amount of media attention, we were on the morning news, featured in the Providence Journal and in every local paper, we have built something from nothing and to me, that is a beautiful thing and incredibly rewarding. I remember how hard it was, the first few shows to even get a simple listing and now we are routinely featured and reporters actually call me. We were on the morning t.v. news, how nutty is that? We were jam-packed from the minute we opened the door to when they closed. Set-up was a breeze because we have the best vendors and I love when customer’s tell me how cohesive the event feels. High quality, with a distinct feel, YES, that’s the plan, it is a carefully curated event and I love that people notice that!

My beleaguered, neglected business is off to a good start. My posse of teenaged boys got themselves up at 7a.m. and came to help and their good nature and dependability touches me deeply. These boys I’ve watched grow almost into men. My son, of the larger variety, and his friend-who-is-a-girl and our tenant, turned housemate, turned member of the family worked the front entry table all day and they did a great job and had a blast. I always wanted a big family. I could tell my son was really proud of me, lot’s of high fives and even a great big hug as he departed which is a rare and special thing.

As vendors started the long process of packing up, I had my cork-worthy moment. This was the first week in such a long time where I felt better every day instead of worse. While I have a calendar full of follow-up appointments, there are no procedures scheduled, no ghastly new treatments to begin and it had been a great, great, successful day. So I popped my cork, grabbed a bunch of cups and visited as many of my favorite crafty peeps as I could and said “take a cup, we’re toasting to ME, and my upward trajectory.” And finally, I could hug without being in pain and I could kiss without being immuno-suppressed and fearing germ exchanges. I had my perfect moment. My bottle ran out way too soon and before I knew it I was laying on the couch of my comfortable, familiar, friendly house feeling like this day had been a turning point. Truly, the beginning of my upward trajectory. Without constant medical appointments, I can finally establish a new routine, join the living instead of the dying. That is my choice, to live every day instead of dying every day. Today I could go into work and start cleaning up or I could leave that until tomorrow and bundle up and spend the day in my yard cutting back plants and enjoying the fresh air and my sweet, sweet neighborhood. So that’s what I will do. I will slow down and smell the proverbial roses and start my new life, or at least the newest chapter in my old life, which most mercifully, is a LIFE.

I don’t know if I’m ready to give up the blog completely, as it’s become such a presence in my life and so many people have asked me not too {which is so powerfully meaningful to me}. The downside of the blog is that so many people know me a hell of a lot better than I know them and you see, I want to know you too. I want to live a real life and not a virtual one. It would be easy to keep hiding in my cancer-cave, worrying and having people want to help me... but most essentially, that doesn’t suit me. The blog kept me connected to the world when I couldn’t leave my house, when I couldn’t partake of it myself, but it suddenly occurs to me that now is the time to make oh so many changes. I think I was waiting for that “cork-popping” moment and it has now presented itself. Life is short and you only get one, I most certainly know that, if nothing else. I want to be present in my actual life instead of always thinking about what I’m going to post. I’ve begun to continually write blog posts in my head and I think it would be better to be spinning other tales, be more present in the immediate instead of recapping the past.

I’ll post to the blog every now and again to let you know how I’m doing, so you don’t worry, but I’m going to place living over writing. It’s time to give my blog the big hug it deserves, it kept me going, kept me sane and connected through a dark and difficult time, so I’ll honor it by not letting it be a crutch, not let it keep me from living. I know I have a lot of work to do, I can barely walk a couple of blocks, I have to reorganize my life in a way that takes care of myself and not just other people, but I'm feeling confident that it will get done.

I’ll keep writing, I’ve discovered how much I love to write, but I’ll be posting, much {much} less frequently. Thank you so, so, so much for reading and for keeping me going. I will never forget or cease to appreciate all the folks who kept me company by reading the blog, or all the folks that fed us {literally} and who’s love and attention kept my precious little family going. Your attention and kindness has affected my boys {and me} in the most beautiful way, you have changed lives. Thank you, thank you, and let’s see each other in the real world, not just the virtual one. x o k t c