Life threw me a curveball a little over a week ago, so I bought a last-minute ticket and flew on a crowded plane to be where I needed to be.
I went to a land of dust, where everything looked stranger than I remember. I lived there five years ago, and not much has changed.
Yet, it all seemed drastically different. Because I have changed.
The concrete soaring throughout downtown Dallas was foreign to my eyes. The sky was reflected in the mirrored facades, decorating each building with spongy clouds.
Peculiar enhancements of the city confused me even more.
Bigger and better restaurants had popped up in a land where food reigns supreme. My skinny jeans already felt tighter just being there again.
Eating out is predominately what you do in Dallas, unless you’re into shopping. Then, you can lose your paycheck on any other number of lavish designer offerings.
Forever destined to battle brown in the harsh climate, additional green spaces are now perched here and there, sprinkled with questionable forms of art.
When I first landed the city was foggy and grey. Stark buildings were still visible, jutting out into the horizon like perky breasts.
Everything seemed hazy to me. The spontaneity of it all, fueled by an emotional impulse to be with my mom when she received her test results.
Emotional time is an understatement.
This was our second round with breast cancer, but the familiarity of the process wasn’t comforting. Recognizing the tough times lurking in the shadows, ready to charge our lives once more, seemed so scary and unfair.
Five of us showed up at the doctor’s office with my mom and surprised the nursing staff with our sizable support group. We jokingly called ourselves her posse.
Hey, whatever it takes.
Being back here again at this point in my life is different than the time before, almost twelve years ago when I was a lost and confused college kid.
This time I thought…show her how much you love her, do everything you possibly can to give her strength. So, I wrote a tribute to her last week and I showed up on her doorstep.
That was all I could do. So I gave it my all.
There was an exquisite outpouring of kindness from many of you readers out there. Thank you.
Several of you are part of my blogging family and it seems like we go through a lot together in this thing called life. Many of you have been through similar experiences, and either supported a loved one or even lost one.
And though this is a personal time for me, I felt compelled to not only write a piece for my mom, but to share the results with you all as well.
We received the best news we possibly could have. She has Stage 1A.
There is still a long road to travel, but my mom is beautifully brave. For the time being the haze has lifted and those blue skies are a welcoming sight.
My mom will totally kick cancer’s ass once again. I just know it.
43 thoughts on “We Surpass the Tough”
Very glad to hear the stage is an early one. How wonderful that you were all there for her. That positive energy and support is an important part of therapy and healing (as I’m sure you already know). I wish your mother and family the best with everything up ahead of you.
So glad you received the best news possible. And you’re an amazing daughter for flying there to be with your Mom. You’re an amazing person, Ms. Britt! (And an amazing blogger friend, too…)
What a wonderful universe to give you each other. Her battle is not lonely and w/o love ones.
Oh, wow. I love this ode to home, and to your Mum and to kicking cancer’s ass. I’m glad the news is positive, and that this is having the affect of bringing you all together. It is funny how things like things change our perspectives. My very best to you, your Mum and family.
Thanks, Alarna. It certainly has brought us all together again. Glad we could be there for my mom. Or “mum” as some of you say, which I adore. : )
You Mom looks like a tough lady and will have no problem kicking the crap out of cancer. But I”ll still put her in my prayers! Best of health
Thank you, Dannie. She’s super tough. Your lovely thoughts are very much appreciated.
It’s tough being a grown up – best wishes to you both.
Indeed, thank you kindly.
My best to you and yours, Britt.
Thanks a million, Tim!
I am relieved for all of you. Wonderful news!
VERY wonderful news indeed!
This is the best possible news. Thanks for letting us know. I have been wondering 🙂
Absolutely…I figured an update would be a good idea to share with you guys! Thank you for thinking of my awesome mom.
I think I probably missed your earlier post, but… stage 1A; that’s the best one could hope for under such circumstances! I’m sure your mum will pull through, especially with such a wonderful support group by her side! *hugs*
Absolutely, it is the best news possible. Thank you for the hugs, honey.
I’m glad I read this before shutting down to head for the office. A great start to the day. Thank you Britt for your positivity.
Awesome. Thank you, Roy. You’re such a pal.
In reading this I just think you are doing all you can and as a family are all rallying around and providing the support needed. This is brilliant and means you are taking away the possibility of regret whatever happens. Best wishes, I can sympathise as I have a Mum who is now all clear and a twin who died of cancer. Keep on doing what your gut tells you.
On a completely different note, I have to say your face profile is stunning, great lines. Of course it may just be your best side 😉.
Be strong, be positive and best wishes from Cork, MM 🍀
Thank you. Yes, we are doing all that we can. Since this is our second round, I think we all knew what was necessary but also wanted to crank up our support a notch.
My profile has never had a compliment before, so thank you very much! *blushing*