Yep, that's a ring on my finger!

Engaged May12, 2013

I'll admit it. I never thought it would happen. I never thought I'd find someone who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and frankly, from a lot of unsuccessful dry runs I never thought anyone would ever feel the same about me. About ten days ago I heard that question...but first I saw it written in bacon. That's right. I said bacon.

A little explanation. Patrick and I have always shared a love of breakfast (not bacon in particular) but it's been something that's always been our thing. Our first date was a breakfast date at Charlie's Frog Pond in Rochester. An actor and a daytime non-profit worker had to find common time together to schedule a date....and so it happened we found our time. Since then breakfast has always been special to us.

So on Sunday May 12th I never expected that our breakfast date would be any different than the many we've shared together. That was until we'd long finished our meal and he just couldn't leave without getting our bacon. Suddenly, I realized what was happening...there was a scent in the air of a little more than breakfast meats. I knew. I didn't even think at the time that I was looking slightly grubby in a hooded sweatshirt. All I could think about was that something was about to happen that I never imagined...with a man I never thought I'd meet. The special guy who I love with all my heart.

When the waitress placed two plates before me at our booth in District Commons I giggled...and then I started to cry. 

He knelt down on one knee and asked...and I said yes. Not many moments in my life have felt like that one. And how many moments do you get like that?  Perhaps you longtime blog readers remember the slightly cynical Leah who shared hilarious hijinks of dating's most epic fails. I laughed about those and every once in a while shared them with you. It made for fun reading, but it wasn't always fun feeling the frustration of that struggle. Cancer itself even felt easier than finding love after cancer. All those sad feelings seemed to wash away as a distant memory the morning of May 12th.

The best part of that weekend and getting engaged wasn't just that moment itself but sharing it with others. Before we shared it with everyone else we first had to keep my lips sealed for 24 hours while we drove from DC to New Jersey to share the news with his family. Patrick surprised me by renting a convertible knowing I'd never had the chance to ride in one. It ended up being a sunny but cold 4 hour ride to Passaic but we bundled up and kept the top down all the way. And we shivered with excitement.

And then we shared our news in Patrick's Mother's Day card to his mom. His brother read it out loud to her and us and hugs went all around. We called his sister to tell her and her family back in Wisconsin. I was giddy. And then there was this warm and clear realization that I would be joining someone's family. That feeling is just so awesome.

Patrick and I with his mom, his brother Brian and his niece Zoe

Mayumi (his sister in law) and Zoe

I am so appreciative of all life has taught me thus far. But I have to admit, I'm kind of excited about being able to share what life has to teach with a partner. 

So, I guess what I want to say to anyone who is reading this blog who has battled something difficult -be it cancer or loss, or illness or a struggle of any kind is keep yourself open. The hard times you've faced don't close you off to finding love - or being loved. They merely allow you to appreciate it more when you find it. And your experience also could open you to new avenues that others may not be willing to explore or willing to have the patience to understand when they find it. His work as an actor makes travel and stints away from his newly adopted home in Rochester now a part of our reality. Patrick and I have had to spend a large majority of our 20 months together apart. Apart only by distance. 

We've found a way because we know the value in what we've discovered. It's a journey filled with challenge but a lot of rewards...and the time between our visits is rewarded over and over, each time we have that deep embrace of 'hello again'. 

Enjoy every sandwich. (Thanks Warren Zevon)

Holy cow, I'm getting married!

Stop and smell the flowers

the Oxford magnolias

It's easy to take most things for granted but nature has the knack for reminding us that we must savor the moment. Nothing is more visible a reminder of this than the beloved row of magnolia trees running straight through the center of Oxford Street. Their blooms color our neighborhood and fill the air with their fragrant scent but only for a week...and then gone. 

So fleeting is time. As blossoms now begin to rain on the grass, I remind myself that there are so many opportunities in life we must take advantage of and savor while they are here. Spring is a time that reminds us all of that. 

Next weekend I'm going to visit Patrick in DC (where he's been doing Shear Madness at the Kennedy Center) and we'll drive to New Jersey to his brother's house where we'll celebrate Mothers Day with his mom, Sharon. Patrick's mother has Alzheimer's disease...a devastating condition I've become familiar with over these 19 months. She knows my name and I love that, but Patrick and I are both aware that there will be a time when she will not.

Before this, in all the years I'd been dating, I've never really taken a special place within someone's family. This is different. I've grown to love Patrick's family and his Mom is so special to me. Her joy when she talks to me on the phone or her hugs of elation in the few times we've been able to see each other in person are precious. That's why I'm thankful to have this gift of knowing her. I've gotten to share our mutual love of horses while we led two large mares into pasture in Wisconsin and both tittered with laughter as we watched Patrick struggle to coax a stubborn pony behind us. I've seen her love of her children as she has playfully joked with them. Her sense of humor is still visible. I see a lot of who she is and shades of who she was. Those moments mean everything, but as Patrick and his family know those times are changing.

When you love someone...or someone comes into your life appreciate them. Give them your time because that's a lesson that can be the most difficult to learn the hard way. 

Stop to smell the flowers today.

Moving man

I think there's something strange about looking at a picture 

that's a year old to see what transitions or transformations have taken place. 

This was taken over a year ago in Central Park, overlooking Sheeps Meadow. It was the kind of winter day that murmurs a wish for spring - with cerulean blue sky and sunshine so bright it called for shades. The kind of day where you take a rest on a rock - eating bakery goodies and bask in the happy for a little while. That's just what Patrick and I did. 

Little did we know then that a year later he'd pack up his apartment and say goodbye to New York. 
To live in Rochester - no less! 

I've shared so much of my life on this blog for the past six years of blogging that it seems strange I leave out a major transition in it. So, long time blog followers -  this is Patrick.

You all know I'd been single for a long time - dated around and always ended up pretty disillusioned.  Like most single women who look for someone truly special I just felt unappreciated most of the time.
I was tired of the game and plain worn out from the disappointment. I almost accepted there wasn't anyone special left in the world of single men...until September 2011.

No offense to certain guys poking around who I might have dated...

but thanks for all being total duds so I could find my way to Patrick.  

One night in a restaurant not so far away I went out with a friend after we'd taken in a Geva show. I joined her for a drink with an actor friend of hers - someone who I liked right from the start. He was tall and charming and kind with dancing blue eyes. His special lady was with him that night- his mom.
I left the restaurant wondering if I'd ever hear from him or even if he felt the spark I did. I shrugged my shoulders and figured no guy wants to consider a 'long distance thing'. The very next day he found me on facebook and wrote me. Love in the age of social media, huh?

Fast forward 17 months later, here we are.

As an actor whose work is mostly in theaters travel is pretty standard. Long distance relationships aren't by nature easy, but I have enjoyed who we are even with the miles separating us. Skype, cell phones and the old fashioned U.S. postal service have become immensely necessary. We make the most of the visits we have. I guess I can say I've foregone my former single life of traveling on whim and instead picked up a coupled life of traveling with purpose. Both of us have racked up our fair share of miles. We've braved buses, Amtrak, rental cars and flights to be together. Sometimes others wonder aloud "how do you do it?" and the answer is simple - you just do.

 That's when you know it's something special. Travel is not cheap. I've stopped counting how much both of us have spent on airfare. Truth is, it doesn't matter. It's a part of our budgets as essential as the electric bill or groceries - it just is. Never for a moment does one of us question the cost. The value far outweighs the cost. 

Patrick is in D.C. right now working at the Kennedy Center on Shear Madness. But the next time he comes "home" it will be to Rochester. Funny what can change in over a year.

Line of vision

Of all of the pictures I have ever taken - this is among my favorites. Not for its quality, but for what it represents and the time in my life it captured. I was driving home to Rochester from Colorado the summer of 2011. I had just decided I would pick up a visit to one more state before I returned east. With a turn of the wheel I headed down a different route-- bound for Wyoming."Who knows when I'll have this chance again?," I thought. 

Somewhere in my path I made a wrong turn and my GPS sent me here, off some side road somewhere between the state border of Colorado and Wyoming. 

Catching sight of this view I stopped the car, got out and marveled at it. A cornfield with the distant veil of mountains behind it. Two entirely different places, two unique ecosystems and all within one eye's glance. To me, it represents everything about the life we know and even the life we do not. It paints the picture of the change that exists in the future - the things yet to be discovered. 

Life doesn't always change in a moment. Yet, the shift that comes from many moments, both good and bad can change a lot of the big picture. It can over time create different chapters of your life. I look at this picture and I am reminded of two views of life - how it is in my plain sight and how it might be ahead in the future, if I look beyond what's right in front of me.

I don't necessary like all of the things that happened to me in my life, but they have in some way made me who I am. There are moments in life that build who you are. Many of them are moments that are most welcome. It's these moments we draw strength from. 

I'm grateful every once in a while to have these moments in my life. Those breathtaking moments are only rare because the truth is we miss them because of life, because of routines, regular patterns. As rare and fleeting as views like this are they remind me of potential - remind me to stop staring at the corn and look up.

I take him with me to the poll

Every time I stand in line to vote I have this overwhelming swell of pride and I say a little silent prayer for one man who inspires me to be in that line. I just can't help but get emotional. Every time I cast my vote I think of my grandfather - a man whose patriotic duty meant more to him than anyone else I can think of.

With my beloved 'Grampa'

Like so many Americans William Duxbury must have caught his first sight of a place called America with a glimpse of a giant lady in a harbor. But he almost didn't survive the journey from England as a one year little boy, sick in his mothers arms - one of so many  passengers traveling to a land that promised a better life.

That baby who almost died on that journey became a man whose duties to his community (and the country he would know as his own) were second only to those of his family. His citizenship was a precious gift he never took for granted. 

His memory whispers still in his community of Geddes NY, even though all the houses of their old neighborhood now contain new families and new lives. He is not forgotten by anyone who ever knew him.He was a quiet, humble man who worked hard and never asked for anything more than what he earned. He never ran for public office because it wouldn't have fit his simple and quiet life. Yet, when there was something wrong he was the first one to stand up and speak up. He was the man who was always first to help a neighbor in need and first in line to petition for change when something in his community needed changing. When he passed away in December of 1988 a county law maker wrote a tribute to him in their local paper.

The man who taught me to swim also taught me to vote and to take it seriously. So at 6:30 am as I slipped that paper ballot into a digital feeding machine much different than he would have used to cast his last vote in an election just a month before he died.
I sighed and smiled after the blinking message came up  "BALLOT SUBMITTED".
Grandpa, I love you and I never, ever forget to vote.

I hope everyone has someone in their life whose soft voice or memory of it is a reminder to vote. And if tradition or duty hasn't etched itself, if there hasn't been that person, I hope that you are that guidance for someone in your future.

VOTE TODAY!

Circles

When I was a little girl I was fascinated by dropping pebbles into water and watching these little circles form around their entry points. But what was more beautiful was seeing those circles widen and touch other ripples.

When we view life alone we see just one circle, but when we look outside of ourselves we can see where our circles touch the boundaries of the circles of others. They might call that being human.

Sometimes we choose to enter someone's life with purpose or intent. Sometimes that person come to us by what seems a universal accident. And in a most interesting scenario: a person can come into our lives seemingly through a random shuffle of events and we must decide that person holds something that we need in our lives. I think this kind of the way I met Mary Eggers.

Posing with Team Eggers last Saturday

I met Mary because I was searching for Zach DeRidder. A young man named Shannon Case told me as I gathered young adults in our area who were cancer survivors (via social networking and message boards) that I should 'look up this kid'. The thing was, I called the number Shannon gave me twice and I couldn't get an answer. I emailed the email I was given, but never heard back.

Shannon said 'this kid was very sick but very inspiring' and that I probably wouldn't believe it because he had met Zach competing in triathlon! This was someone I had to find...and I turned to google. This is where I first became acquainted with the Iron Momma who turned out to be Mary, through her incredible blog about Zach. It was the fall of 2007. After reading her detailed blog, I tracked down Zach's friend and found out he had been in the hospital. It turned out he desperately wanted to meet another young survivor. But I never forgot the power of Mary's word. Her heart is on her sleeve in real life. Through the reach of the internet, it's on her blog.

Zach brought so many people into my life. But in a fluky way, so did Mary, because if it wasn't for her heartfelt description of this amazing guy who I 'had to meet' perhaps I would not have called one last time or tracked him down through one of his friends. Perhaps Zach's circles and mine may have never touched. And because his life changed mine so much I might not even be doing what I do now with the knowledge I have and with the conviction I have. 

Mary's circle touched mine then....before we even officially met.

I asked her for help in the summer of 2008 when some of us were trying to help Zach win a LiveStrong bike. Mary answered in a big way and rallied everyone together through her tremendously popular blog to help him get enough votes to win. And then there was meeting her and asking her to get me in shape...and that was the beginning of things really getting good.

Mary's circle could have touched mine in the last year a hundred different ways, but if I thought about it just the same, maybe not. It could be through the nurses that I now work with...but maybe I wouldn't be there to meet them.

 It could be through the friendships I have with more athletic people than myself.  Mary's son Luc needed to find a school more supportive for his challenges - as it turned out I had just left the Norman Howard School that he now attends after Mary's long fought battle to get him there. 

A nursing friend of Mary's ends up being someone from my small high school. She remembered me, but unfortunately as the 'sick kid' I became. I think she told Mary I had 'just sort of disappeared' near the end of high school, which is true. 

* I graduated in the next year's class...maybe to become a folklore piece or ghost of sorts to many of my previous classmates. That was due largely to the fact that people in that school district in the mid 1990s didn't know what to do with a sick kid. Who knows, I hope for their sake things have changed.

In a alternate universe I may have met Mary in some entirely different way. But our circles touched in just the way that helped to change my game. 

Well, we've been waiting to see if she wins this MVP Health Ultimate Game changer contest. 

She was nominated by Brittany, a young woman with all the affection in the world for her because Mary helped her restore her own athletic confidence after bone cancer through the TLC Fit program. 

We've been waiting and waiting with baited breath to see if Mary made it through the voting to be #1. Regardless of how that contest ends, there is no contest. Mary is a game changer in my book.

I may have indicated that in my speech to introduce her for her Make A Difference award last Saturday night....I don't remember what I said frankly, because the rush of emotion was too deep. And so it was for Brittany, who joined me on stage.

Mary's circle touches too many lives - she just is a game changer. 

If I were to explain Iron Momma like those pebbles dropped into a pond it would present like a firestorm of launched pebbles. I'm so grateful to be one of the circles hers happened to hit.

A scar tells a story

The other morning I was checking in at the gym when Anne, the woman at the desk shook me from my routine.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" 

I knew exactly what she was going to ask because I could see her eyes on my neck.

This question used to be a reason for me to feel anxious and afraid. Just a few short years ago I might have inwardly bridled at this impending question - wondering whether curiosity was from a place of unease at the appearance of the long curving line of discolored skin carving a u shaped path from one ear to the other. Wondering whether those eyes thought me a freak.

The fear for this question is gone.

I've learned to recognize a pleading look in eyes of a select group who ask this question. These are the queries of those, not pointing out a way that I am different, but seeing someone with something and desperately wanting to ask the stranger that question, breaking through the awkwardness to do so.

"Thyroid cancer?" she asked.

I nodded. She looked relieved.

"Me too."

I sighed.
She sighed.

We talked a little and shared a bit about this butterfly shaped gland we were now both missing. We both agreed it had shaped the course of our lives...how the lack of awareness about it left us in dire straits. 

My lack of diagnosis may have cost me the carefree high school and college years I should have had, while I suffered with very real symptoms that never were correctly pinpointed. Her lack of immediate care and surgery led to a serious condition called a thyroid storm, leaving her in intensive care and near death for weeks. She still suffers from various ailments- lasting parting gifts from a cancer she was told was the "good cancer".
I believe I've heard the same two-word description of the disease that turned my whole world upside down.

My neck tells a story. The scar is its opening chapter. It's a large and cumbersome wound that healed long ago but will always and forever be visible to the naked eye. It's too long and winding to have thought to measure.Unless I wear a turtleneck or a scarf the rest of my life I'm going to continue to have these moments. Moments where someone who feels seemingly alone reaches out and wonders aloud "you too?"

I used to be angry that I was left with such a visible reminder of my first cancer. There were times I wondered how I could ever look at my reflection and feel peace. My first solid dalliance with mortality is forever etched for others to see, but I think I'm finally okay with it. I know who I am...and who I am is not simply skin deep.

I wouldn't go so far as to say "I love my scar". I wouldn't say that suddenly it's become beautiful in my eyes, that would be a lie. But I will say that it tells a story, and I've lived that story. And now I am living differently because of it...I'm on a different path...and that I am okay with.

So, the scar is mine and it's a part of who I am now, the inside worn on the outside.

I was late to start my workout the other day. But my choosing to speak with this woman made a difference in her day. It was my choice to miss Zumba (I didn't tell her) to help her realize that someone else knew that she wasn't alone. My scar was the catalyst.