We launched this website just over six months ago.

Seven months ago I was asked to chair the Relay For Life of Greater Fall River.

We launched our Dana-Farber Marathon Walk fundraising campaign about eight months ago.

We launched our Walking with Jane Relay For Life team just about ten months ago and participated in or first relay nine months ago.

Jane died 15 months ago tomorrow. Nineteen months ago she was diagnosed with neuroendocrine cancer. Eighteen months ago we went from thinking she still had years of life ahead of her to near absolute despair when we found out how badly her heart had already been damaged.

But we drew hope from what her doctors said–and who her doctors were. If we had lived almost anywhere else there would have been no hope–no chance. And neither of us were good with no-win scenarios. Where we lived turned no chance into a fighting chance. And we did everything we could to make that fighting chance better.

I lost my mind for a little while yesterday. I know much more about NET/CS now than I did when Jane died. Sometimes that knowledge overwhelms me. There are so many things we might have done differently. But we didn’t know–no one did. We could only make decisions based on what we knew.

I have spent the last week re-potting house plants. Jane had grown an ivy plant on a heart-shaped frame. It was the one plant that died while she was in the hospital. Among the plants was a dish garden with an ivy in it. When I was ready to transplant that one I went to the basement and found the frame. It was still in the pot and the dead vine was still wrapped around it. I cut off the old vine and put the brown leaves aside for the compost heap.

I carefully wrapped the living ivy around the old frame. There was enough vine to complete one circuit. The heart is thin but it will fill in over time. There is another container with another ivy in it. Maybe I will shape another frame–shape another heart.

Yesterday, after I had raged against fate and wept my brains out again, I set up the lights and planted tomato, pepper, eggplant, and flower seeds for this year’s garden. Two weeks from now I will be ready to plant the peas and spinach. Three weeks from now I will plant lettuce.

The wind blew hard last night. When I got up this morning I discovered the mailbox had blown off its post. I went out this morning and bought the screws to put it back together.

Life, knowledge,work,  grief–any one of these things can be overwhelming. Sometimes they all build together and it seems like it is just too much. Sometimes I just want to quit and let someone else do whatever it is I am supposed to be doing.

I won’t, of course. It is not in my nature to quit or to give up. It was not in Jane’s either. So while there will be days I lose my mind, there will always be seedlings to start, plants to re-pot–and mailboxes to fix.