The Thing About Support

One of the questions I am asked most often, when one learns I'm battling the Big C, is if I have a good support network. Which seems like an odd question to me. I mean, what would they say if I said no, I ain't got nobody. Would they volunteer to be my friend? That could be scary, volunteering to befriend a person who hasn't managed to make any on their own. Or would they just shake their head and say they're sorry and leave us both feeling awkward? I for one have made a mental note to never ask that question, just to be safe.

Fortunately, I have a great, overwhelming, phenomenal number of people who support me and cheer me on, so I get to say that yes, yes I do. And then they get say that's great, because that's so important.

To be honest, whenever that question comes, before I make that mental image of all those fabulous wonderful examples of support, I always think of the one glaring example of lack of support from someone who should have been close. Funny how that works. The thing you want to put behind you most just sticks around like a big ol' elephant in the room. (And by the way, if you heard the one about how I just made up the cancer for the attention, well...yeah. Sometimes it makes me laugh, sometimes it makes me cry.)

Anyway, after that little rumor comes to mind and I brush it away...again...I then picture all those other faces. Even packed in tight together in my mind they take up more space than that stupid elephant. There are so many that they make me choke up and I can barely say yes to the person asking about my support system.

And today I've been thinking about how I don't thank them nearly enough. By them I mean you.

There's the person who sends me a text every once in a while to see how I'm doing. Or comments on my blog. Or sends me an email. Or calls. The many, many who have brought meals. And treats. Sent cards. Made hand-made happy-thought books. Bought me hats. Stopped by for no reason. Driven my son to school every day. Had him over for play dates. Met me for lunch. Helped clean and organize my house. Listened to me whine. Lied to me about how good I look bald. Hugged me. Cried for me. Cried with me. Prayed for me. Taught your children to pray for me.

See how many there are? How they fill up that space in my brain to the point that it pushes the tears out of my eyeballs?

And if you didn't see yourself in the list that was my fault, because if you're reading this I bet anything you belong there. So thank you for helping to make such a big, wonderful net. I don't know how I could have gotten through without it.