Heart Matters

I am reflecting on matters of the heart on this most Hallmark of holidays. I consider Valentine's Day to be, in the vernacular of my just-turned 14-year-old son Zack, "lame." I clearly have passed on this sentiment to the kids as I heard Charlotte tell someone on the phone the other day "You know that it was just made up to get people to buy stuff, right?"

It's not that I don't believe in showing love and affection, it's just that it's pretty absurd that the mighty economic and media machines are going to tell us when to do it and how to do it and perhaps niggle us into feeling badly if it is not done to us with a dozen over-priced, smell and soul-less red roses. Okay, enough of that.

What I really want to talk about is the silver lining of living with metastatic cancer.

Yesterday a well-sized purple cooler bag showed up on my front porch. Attached to the handle with a pretty ribbon was a laminated card that read: "For Zoë and Her Family, Love from Zoë 's Book Club." Inside there were a panoply of gourmet goodies and a card that read: "Dear Zoë , Your Book Club misses you, were praying for you, and we love you. We wanted to do something for you and your family during this hectic and difficult time; so, please check this cooler on a regular basis--we hope to surpirse you often. Love from your Book Club."

As I said to Charlotte later, the outpouring of love and affection and kindness and offers of support have been so touching that "it's almost worth getting sick for." Usually, there is not such a concentrated display for an individual until she has died. For whatever reason, in our society, we tend to wait until the funeral or memorial service or celebration of life to collectively communicate our care for someone. All that love wasted on the out-of-bodied.

But maybe I could think about this and actually pick up the phone, respond to that email, put pen and paper and stamp together?Maybe I could take more time to actually communicate my appreciation of the terrific people in my life? As I write this I can think of a number of people who I have intended to be in touch with for ages but just haven't found the time to do it. But really...how long does it take? And how wonderful does it feel to connect?

I gave both Charlotte and Zack a cocoa-rich gift this morning--let's call it an un-Valentine's Day gift. Later they walked up the street to buy milk and bread and Charlotte came back bearing a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, bursting with pride as she gave it to me. Zack muttered that he too would have got flowers for me but that he had no money. I told him that money has nothing to do with matters of the heart. "Yes it does!" he insisted. "A single rose cost $7!." I told him that he had already given me my gift the night before when at his 14th birthday celebration at a fun and fabulous restaurant downtown, right after I had toasted him, he had spontaneously added a toast of his own: "A toast to my Mom, that she fully recovers."

A toast to my family and my friends, new and old. Thank you for taking the time to tell me that you care. Regardless of what happens to my body, my heart is truly healing. And that, is priceless.