Do you know anyone who can insult you and compliment you at the same time? Like, “Wow! Your hair looks so great, for being so short and choppy.” Or “Have you lost weight? Or do those pants just not fit you?” Nice.
That’s the kind of week I’ve been having. On Sunday, I found out a friend has cancer. He’s 64 and has been my running partner for 3 years. Five weeks ago, we were covering 15-20 miles a week together on the dusty canals of Tempe, sprinting, chatting, arguing about politics. Today, he’s hooked up to machines and has a cantaloupe sized tumor on his hip. (Side note, why do they always compare tumor sizes to fruit?) Words like “chemo” and “radiation” and “mother of all things holy, this sucks” have been rolling off my tongue with ease lately.
So, while I side tracked you with my “ha ha! Look at what a generous friend I have” obnoxious post, in truth, I’ve been having a bit of a hard time. After a good hard cry Sunday, I went to my trusty mail box, where the Goddess of Parcels and Kindness wrapped me in her arms and gave me a big sloppy kiss.
The first package to take me by complete surprise was a beautiful new tote bag from Beki. I’d seen this on her site last week and even commented on how fabulous I thought it was, never guessing it was headed my way. It’s now happily stuffed with my iPod, knitting, book, etc, and has already gone on its first road trip. I love it Beki. And my favorite colors no less.
The second package was another surprise gift from Jessica of FunkyFinds. I’ve found such a special friendship with this Texan that I’m not even going to hold her statehood against her. She is sweet, friendly and generous. Love the fabric and the cards! Those little stamps are African animals. It was incredibly thoughtful and made me smile.
And finally, good grief, the mother load of surprises: a package of supplies for my upcoming trip to Bolivia from Bekka. Bekka included two fabulous books, stationery, a little passport of soap that will be perfect for my adventure, more Polaroid film and a kind note.
Just when I thought the universe was going to permanently take up a spot kicking my shins, you lovely ladies took care of me. I needed a big dose of happiness and your gifts couldn’t have arrived at a better time. It’s hard to feel sorry for yourself and cry when you’re dancing with glee in your living room with a super cute new tote full of goodies. So, thank you.
Rex, my running partner, is going to be okay. He’s got a long treatment and recovery in front of him. Soon enough, though, I know we are going to be right back out there running and arguing and debating why Fox News might as well just change its name to the Dubya B.