(Just to assure the image is taken from a FB post).
Numerology is a strange science. My daughter’s favorite number is 7. Mine is anything that divides by 3 and even better 18. Although I do like 60 because you can divide it by so many numbers! I usually exercise division of 60 when I swim 60 laps in summer. One the other hand every day I am trying to see the angeles number (11:11) and make a wish. So being blissfully unaware of today’s day I just happened to see the post and get the pun. I then turned to an expert – my son is Star Wars fan and found out that May 4th is an official Star Wars Day (at least here in California). I am not a fan of Star Wars. In fact when I took my son to one of them as it had come out I slept through the entire movie (it helped that I was in fellowship in 1999 and could fall asleep anywhere in any position (even standing) as long as I had some time). The uncomfortable (not plush) chair was not a problem for me and I had that lost look of someone who had just woken up when the credits flashed their last line. I have to admit that I love annual Hollywood Bowl show dedicated to John Williams. It combines mine and my son’s favorites – Harry Potter and Star Wars music. I also love when thousands of people turn their light sabers on and wave them in the air.
But what makes May 4th so special to me…. this year. Exactly FIVE months ago on THE 4TH the first drop of chemotherapy went into my veins. I am celebrating five months in treatment. Is it a good enough reason to celebrate? It is to me. I have made it through 5 months with bald head and a bit of anemia, tons of knowledge I have never known to need and finding there that there are a lot of people who care about me. That sounds like an achievement to me. At this point I really don’t care whether someone knows I have cancer or not. As long as I do not see any pity. As for offers to help – I have so many of them that I really want to say, “Please take a number and get in the line”. And I don’t mean it in any rude way (Not like the famous “no soup for you!”) or my first cultural shock in New York when I went to a coffee shop in the morning and instead of nice LA “How can I help you?” I got an impatient “Next!?”. I am amazed and humbled how many people offer to help. And I actually know they will if I say the word. Most feel I need to be driven places or get food. But I can handle those things easily. Nevertheless, again and again all those who have offered their help are forever in my good graces. So I to celebrate May 4th I took a bite of freshly made Dubai chocolate (my Mom made it) – a small bite mind you and said to myself- May the force be with me adding “All the way”.
I am polishing my lens for the meteor shower tomorrow and maybe, just maybe I will be lucky enough to see the shooting star. My daughter is on the plane and I am saying a prayer for safe travel: May it be Your will, G‑d, our G‑d and the G‑d of our fathers, that You should lead us in peace and direct our steps in peace, and guide us in peace, and support us in peace, and cause us to reach our destination in life, joy, and peace. Save us from every enemy and ambush, from robbers and wild beasts on the trip, and from all kinds of punishments that rage and come to the world. May You confer blessing upon the work of our hands and grant me grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us, and bestow upon us abundant kindness and hearken to the voice of our prayer, for You hear the prayers of all. Blessed are You G‑d, who hearkens to prayer. I pray and hope that the prayer applies to her and to me – because I am also traveling, sort of – I am on the road to freedom from cancer.
And one last note. I am half asleep, my daughter calls me from the plane and it looks like she had read the school version of what happened last Wednesday. She also agrees that the version was sugar coated. The girls went to the stores and were given milk and they took care of themselves. Thanks good, I always made all her scrapes and cuts feel less than they were started with the funny story of the bean. We went to Cancun when she was 6 and had her hair done in that zillion small braids with beads. When we finally took them off and undid the braids she played with the beads. Then she comes to me and says she was playing with the BEAN and it drowned in her nose. I was gutsy (I realized it later). I took two pairs of tweezers and told her, “Don’t move, don’t cry, don’t breathe, don’t swallow”. I then carefully and slowly pulled it out. She did not flinch and only when it was all over she cried. And only much much later I found out that if I had dropped the bead or let it prolapse deep in the nose it would have required a surgical procedure. Probably that’s why they say all’s well that ends well.