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Big spiders. Horror movies. What other people think. War. Trump. Identity theft. Home invasion. Failure. Clowns. Russian nesting dolls. 

Everybody has things they’re afraid of.  

Since Cassie’s diagnosis, we’ve picked a word or a theme for our year. Last year it was “A Year of Wow and Wonder.” This year we’re considering Fearless or Fear Less.

Fear can get in the way of living life. And, when one has limited time you don’t want any more obstacles.  Yet we can all think of instances when fear prevented us from experiencing something that could have been amazing and we wind up missing things because we couldn’t overcome our insecurities or anxiety.

Facing a terminal illness can be very scary. Fear of pain. Of side effects from medications. Bad scan results. Good scan results because then you know the bad results are just around the corner. Fear of not being able to do the things you want because of your illness. Fear of dying. Fear of being the one left behind. 

While it might be unrealistic to put aside all of these fears, as a couple we can agree to try and “fear less” together. We won’t let fear take over our days or drive our decision making. We will jump into this life with cancer with both feet. To live our lives to the fullest and not wait to have experiences or embark on adventures because of fear. Even fearing less won’t be that easy. We used to look at each other when we were scared and say “everything is going to be OK.” Now, that formerly comforting phrase rings hollow but we can still try to be less scared, less owned by fear, today. 

Living without fear may be impossible but fearing even a little bit less feels more doable.  So that’s our plan. What’s yours?

We’ve never been huge Valentine’s Day people. We don’t hate it or anything and we don’t disdainfully dismiss it as a “Hallmark” holiday but it’s never really been our thing. We don’t exchange gifts or go out. We’ve traditionally given each other a couple of cards and called it a day. 

Then last year, following Cassie’s diagnosis, we found ourselves wanting to have a small Valentine’s Day dinner party for the first time ever. We had some friends over.  Dan cooked a delicious meal (actually he recreated the first meal he ever made for Cassie which turned out to have been on Valentine’s Day 1992 so maybe we are more VD people than we thought). We shared stories of how we met.  It was great.

This year we are doing the same thing and we’ve added a robust Valentine’s Day playlist and an eagerly anticipated — by us anyway —  game of “lovers bingo” (get your minds out of the gutter its pretty clean). The bubbly is on ice, Cassie is decorating the table, Dan has on special heart socks and the cooking (once again of the “first meal”) will commence shortly.

So what changed? Why is Valentine’s Day now something that feels more worthy of marking? It’s probably because we’ve learned you can’t take anything for granted including or maybe especially love. We constantly say to each other that we feel so lucky to have such a strong foundation. To still be so much in love. To have our feelings for each other sustain us in the midst of unrelenting sadness and grief. Not all couples going through a terminal cancer diagnosis have that going for them and many unfortunately end in divorce. Others die so quickly they don’t make it to the next Valentine’s Day. Before, on February 14, we used to blithely say that everyday should be a “day of love” but now leaning into Valentine’s Day and celebrating our twenty eight year love affair feels really important. And doing it with some of the friends who have helped support us and our relationship just seems right. 

Tell someone you love them. Don’t wait. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Dan comes from a family of big nappers. Cassie didn’t grow up that way. This has been one of those areas that we have had to reconcile over the course of our marriage. It’s been hilarious. There was that time Dan’s whole family was napping in Chicago and Cassie answered a knock on the front door only to be confronted by a total stranger dressed all in leather with a huge St. Bernard. (Everything worked out because “it was just Cousin Bernie.”) Or Dan trying to give Cassie napping lessons to limited success. (“Lie still. Close your eyes.”) We rest and recharge differently. And we’d grown OK with that over the years up to the time of Cassie’s diagnosis.

Then the recent holiday season got us both re-thinking the whole concept of rest. During all of the holiday craziness Cassie was constantly balancing her desire to participate in every activity, every party, every outing — every one of those fun opportunities that are presented that time of year —  with the voice in her head that asks “will a late dinner on a week-night be too much?” “ Will a particular activity today cause her to miss other fun things later in the week?” It’s really hard.

Dan, not surprisingly, often suggests that Cassie “take a nap” or cancel an activity. Cassie usually opts to push through. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she says.  But, there has to be a balance. 

What we’re learning is that resting one day doesn’t necessarily equate to energy the next. But having a number of really full days strung together is not just exhausting but makes Cassie feel even worse than usual. And, that living in the middle – neither fully doing or totally resting – is unfulfilling. So, Cassie must follow her gut and do what feels right. Sometimes pushing through for a number of fun activities is totally worth it! Sometimes the voice in her head will say: “This is too much” and we need to listen to that and be aware of the consequences if we choose differently. It’s a constant balancing act but we’ve come to appreciate two things: 1) That relying on Cassie’s intuition usually gets us to the right place and 2) That those napping lessons are finally paying dividends.