I knew Joey was a shining star the day he entered the world — big and blond and pink and without a doubt the cutest baby I’d ever seen. And without a doubt, his behavior — stubborn and demanding and wild — can sometimes tarnish his shine. But when he shines, he really shines. Like today.
Today, Joey walked out of his kindergarten class wearing a crown made of royal blue construction paper — with a big yellow construction-paper star displayed front and center. In glitter were the words Shining Star and to accompany his crown, he carried a royal blue tote bag full of goodies and wore a star sticker on his shirt, both also labeled Shining Star. He bounced out of his class and into the outdoors where he met my mom — his Nana — and his cousin Jordan who have picked him up all week. So they saw this precious occasion. And my mom relayed it all to me. And I am so sad I missed it — because it’s surely a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Joey will never be in kindergarten again, will never be a shining star for the first time, will never spill over with the same five-year-old enthusiasm he had today during his first great school moment.
I missed this event because I was at home with a sick three-year-old. But I did get to share in Joey’s glory in my own way. He called me from Nana’s cell phone in the car after school and told me all about his victory, about how one student gets this award every Friday. And when he got home, I took pictures, and I got to see Joey wear his crown for the rest of the day, during our trip to Chili’s for a celebration dinner (he got a lot of smiles), and throughout the rest of night.
And now the crown sits peacefully in the kitchen and Joey sleeps peacefully in his bed. And I am both sad and happy — sad I didn’t witness the wonder of my shining star today and happy that I have the pleasure of witnessing wondrous moments every day. And I plan to soak up every one of them — because my friend Amy in Ohio was just diagnosed with a spread of cancer to her brain and lungs, just five months after she completed treatment for breast cancer. Her doctors give her one year to live — although she plans on surviving much longer — and I can’t stop thinking that it could be me in her shoes. So just in case I do one day walk in her shoes, I’m going to bask in all the wonder I can get. For as long as I can get it.
Jacki Donaldson
Your story is great and congrats for making it through this horrible experience. I am new to the breast cancer adventure – I am 37 and was diagnosed on 10/2 and had a masectomy on my left breast 11/13 my 7 year wedding anniv. It is a roller coaster ride I am going through as you have already travelled. I am terrified! Will the roller coaster of emotions ever slow down I feel as though I am not find the positive in any of this as I read in so many stories but am dewelling on the negative. I miss my old life even though it was crazy and chaotic, but am slowly realizing it will never be the same again. I do not know what treatment I will have until the 13th of december which is next week but seems like forever. I am working through the reconstruction and expansion portion right now which is an adventure in its own pain. I am an emotional wreck and my wonderful loving husband is taking the grunt of it all as well as my 2 beautiful kids – my 5 year old little girl and 2 year old son. Like you said my 5 year old just know mommy is going to the doctor alot and has a booboo but my 2 year old is clueless which is nice. I just want my husband and kids to have their mom around for all the wonderful things that have yet to come but I don’t want to be in this hole that I sometimes feel like I am in. Some days are great but some really really stink. Well sorry to vent on you but the other thing is you feel so alone in this even though I have wonderful friends and a great husband – I don’t always want to be the downer of the conversation. Just wanted to share and let you know that your stories and blog are very helpful. Take care and my prayers are with you and your friend and families.