2014 was a busy year. It had some fun times like our weeks spent in Wales and Ireland and our annual jaunt to Ghost Ranch in northern New Mexico. But tempering all of the happiness was the fear and concern caused by my daughter’s breast cancer. It was a year of surgery, chemo, radiation, feeling somewhere between bad and awful, no energy, not being able to work, not being able to play with her children, fear of what was going on and what was to come. She lives far from us, but we were with her at the beginning, in the middle and at the end of the year; always frustrated that we couldn’t do more, that we couldn’t do what parents are supposed to be able to do–fix any problem.
After Christmas, we were together again to see her bouncing back. She is back at work; integrated back into her family. We did yoga together. We ran together. We hiked together. When we run, she is, once again, faster than I am. She once again has that long, easy stride that is so beautifully smooth and graceful. It takes me back to when I was her age and ran like that, and I wonder why I now feel so choppy. What is it about aging that forces you to adopt a shorter stride. Sigh.
We are going to celebrate her return to health by doing a half marathon together in DC in March. Her older sister is going with us. Her brother lives in DC, and our other son may join us from New Jersey. O frabjous day! It will be a joyous occasion.