When Jane and I were working, this week  between Christmas and New Year’s served a variety of purposes.

First and foremost, it was a time to rest and regroup. While many think teaching is an easy job, it is not–especially if you do it right. The 16-18 hour days had worn us out by this point in the year. We tried to relax this week. Those of you who teach should put away the books and papers until Sunday and get reacquainted with spouses, children, families, and friends.

But it was also a time for thinking about the past and looking ahead to the future. As I have written before, while we cannot change the past, it informs the present and influences the future. A year ago, I was in no condition to be very thorough in that review and planning routine. Jane had died less than three weeks before and I was badly damaged in heart and mind.

Still, I tried to think about the future, tried to think about the past, tried to come to terms with the present moment. I knew I needed to do something about Carcinoid Syndrome. I knew I had to do something about NET. But I also knew I needed time and space to heal before I was going to be any good to anyone. On the plane home from Seattle, as I listened to the flight attendant explain about the oxygen masks–and how you should get yours on before you put one on your child–I found the rationale that allowed me to take those steps first.

But I also felt bound by the promises I had made to Jane: that I would do all I could to fight this thing and destroy it; that I would walk the entire Relay for Life; that I would find other ways to help doctors and researchers take down this disease. At one point I even thought seriously about going back to school to become a doctor or nurse. It was only as I realized that the hours of study involved in those pursuits would get in the way of the work I most needed to be doing that I became able, in my mind, to delegate that work that needed to be done by MDs and researchers, and I let that thought die.

Gradually, a plan evolved. I did the Walk for MS and the Walk for Hunger because those were both things we had talked about doing in the past, but had never found the time to do.

I signed on to do the Relay for Life in Taunton and in Fall River. Friends and students designed and sold t-shirts, organized raffles and baked goodies, figured out retail displays and came up with tents and tables.

I talked with people from the foundations fighting NET and looked for a useful niche or two for Walking with Jane that needed to be filled. We have found good and experienced allies there and in the medical community.

Others designed this website–and have helped tweak it since the launch September 2–built the stories for the press kit, and encouraged a number of other initiatives that will appear here soon.

Historically, I have been awful about accepting help from others, about delegating work and responsibility. This year has taught me the value of that. I’m still not very good at it, but I am learning.

Still, while we have done a lot this year, a lot remains to do. We have only sketched the broad plan and begun to pour the foundation.

NET and Carcinoid Syndrome are still out there taking lives and causing misery.