Found

Her name is Rosemary, and a few days ago she found the hole in my heart and stitched it up.

We're just getting to know each other, we two, but I know this: a cat who places her paw in your hand, ever so gently, and lets it rest there — that cat is your cat, and you are her person.

Rosemary came to me — along with her sweet name — from ARF, one of our local rescue organizations. Annabelle was an ARFan, too.

I do knit, and I do have pictures, but I will save them for next time. I've been completely consumed by Rosemary, of course, but also by a monumental project at work. I rarely write about my job (I try not to), but I'm in charge of our new website, and I've been busy putting it together. It launched yesterday and I'm pretty pleased with it.  Go take a look when you have a minute.

This Sunday I'll be at SBUMC Cancer Center to celebrate National Cancer Survivor's Day, and I'll be at a special breakfast for those of us who are participating in clinical trials. I'm so happy to be here, three years after my diagnosis of uterine cancer, and so honored to be helping find better treatment for my sisters who will be diagnosed in the future. All the research money in the world (and all the pink stuff we're encouraged to buy) won't get rid of cancer without patients and doctors participating in clinical trials. Just sayin'.

Where I'll be

This is my birthday furniture, and it's my new favorite place to be. When the oak pollen has finished making my life difficult, I'll sit here with my knitting and a big glass of iced tea. There will be flowers, and maybe a little table.

The chair was a gift from my friend Judy, the ottoman was from my sister Ellen, and the pillow was stitched by my sister Sarah. There are also plants from the Remarkable R's. Their brilliant gift coordination helped turn my little deck at the top of the stairs into a wonderful place to relax and enjoy the summer!

Two birthdays

Sunset • Long Beach • Sag Harbor • 4/24/11

The first is the one my mother gave me, fifty-six years ago today. The second is the one made possible by Dr. Pearl, some very powerful medicine, and my own perseverance: two years of No Cancer. My birthdays share the same week, and almost the same day, so it makes sense that I've spent this week pondering.

I've been thinking about my mom, and all the birthdays she made so special for me, and for my whole family. Her cakes are legendary. I asked Judy to make me a lemon cake for my birthday dinner on Sunday, and she did, and it was amazing. There was also a BookHampton cake on Monday, with candles and everything. I'm so fortunate to have good friends who are also my family.

I've been thinking about Dr. Pearl, too, and all the people who made my second birthday possible. I'm grateful and lucky and still in awe of his artful doctoring (with a nod to my own fortitude). I've said it before, but it bears repeating: his art and my magic are a powerful combination.

I want to celebrate my two birthdays for years and years to come, so I promise myself that I will wake up every morning and make my life better — somehow, in some small way. Happy birthdays to me.

Not my cat

I'm looking after Robbie this week, while my landlords are away. He is exceptionally cute and squishy and silly. He spends his time waiting for voles, or lounging on the deck, or peering in my door. When he visits he is a gentleman, polite and not too nosy.

Robbie has also opened my eyes: I need a cat. I miss warm fur. I miss having a little soul to care for and talk to. I miss purrs and mews. I miss having a creature winding around my feet as I work in the kitchen. I miss having a reason to go home, and I miss the love. Soon, soon.

Soon.