Crack Open a ...
...authored by mostly stupid people!
Of course I don’t mean you. The “mostly stupid people” I’m referring to would never read my blog. They’re too important, popular, and busy doing interesting stuff… like having a bowel movement, or defriending one of their kazillion close, personal Facebook friends.
Before you get all self-righteous and pissy, and start writing that derogatory comment about me being an ugly, fat hypocrite on my Facebook wall, I’d like to mention it’s not Facebook I’m criticizing. There are many things I love about it. Number one being my author page, which is the reason I signed up for Facebook in the first place.
After all, I’m a professional writer. Like most creative, artsy types, I have a love/hate relationship with writing. I have a talent for it, but it’s still work, and any mechanism that allows me to write only a sentence or two and call it a day---well, YAY!
Facebook makes it easy to post news, links, photos, media…it’s like having an informal blog.
It’s not Facebook I find annoying. Facebook overall is interesting and entertaining. Right? Well sure… as well as nauseating and mindlessly mesmerizing.
If you want to Crack Open a Book! Authored by stupid people, all you have to do is read Facebook. It’s like reading the tabloids while in line at the grocery store. I just can’t help myself.
Below are some of my favorite Facebook peeves. The names have been changed to protect the idiotic.
• Married couples who love each other. Not just once a year on their anniversary, but all the nauseating time. (Anyone besides me notice how the more a couple professes publicly the more apt they are to cheat privately?)
Sweetie Pie: I love my hubby. Last night was amazing.
Hubby: I love you more, Sweetie Pie. I’m the luckiest man alive.
Under this there are usually half a dozen likes and a couple of comments from people who need a life of their own.
What annoys me most about the FB Sweetie Pies is they actually live at the same address as their hubby. My husband and I live a few states apart and yet somehow we manage to communicate without making it a Facebook spectacle.
• Posts done in a tone to evoke you to worry, wonder, and keep you hanging.
Drama Queen: I know it’s only 9 a.m., but I could use a stiff drink and your prayers right now.
Then, ten posts later, after much cajoling from the comments section, you discover she’s upset because the doctor who injects her Botox is on vacation for a month or something equally heart wrenching.
• Posts broadcasting something a friend may want to remain private.
Best Friend to BFF: So how many cup sizes did your plastic surgeon say you could go up?
• Posts morons broadcast about themselves that should remain private:
Mr. Trophy Husband: (via Blackberry of course.) At the doctor’s office… getting my vasectomy reversed before my beautiful wife’s biological time clock runs out.
Comment: Maybe this time you’ll have some pretty children.
Let’s hope so because if they take after the parents we all know they’re going to be as dumb as dirt.
• Posts from people who need to learn to take the high road.
Pity Party: Poor, pitiful me. I’m so over this. One of my best friends had a party and didn’t invite me. Guess they didn’t think I’d see the photos on Facebook.
Comment: story of my life, I hate them too.
Before you post you might want to take a look at the event page. You were invited and if you were not, then let me give you the same advice my mama gave me. Never give them the satisfaction of knowing it bothers you. It just makes you look pathetic. Throw your own party and/or go do something that they only wish they did.
• Posts from people who think the world revolves around them.
Ms. Self-absorbed: is wishing people would mind their own business, and quit talking about mine.
Note to Ms. Self-absorbed: We’re talking because you begged us to when you posted photos, events or comments of your pee-brained escapades on Facebook. Seriously, what did you expect?
• People over 12 years old who defriend their FB friends for no good reason.
Here are a few notable good reasons: You discover one of your FB friends has sent your husband an innuendo that implies she would sleep with him if asked. One of your FB friends was profiled on the evening news as a known sex offender/ murderer or something equally offensive. You discover that good looking, clean cut kid that you encouraged your daughter to date because he was so charming (kissed up to you) is not what he appeared and is stalking her.
Disagreeing with your FB friend’s foot-in –the-mouth comments, politics, religion, or the fact that all they do on FB is play senseless games or hit the like button on every ridiculous Facebook page --is not a good enough reason to defriend someone.
• Posts from people who do all the things I mentioned above.
Despite your faults, I haven’t defriended a one of you. You can bet I’m not going to either. You guys give me way too much to write about.
So you know here’s what I do love about Facebook:
• Reconnecting with old friends, colleagues, and former classmates.
• Keeping in touch with people I used to see on a daily basis, but now live thousands of miles away from.
• Notifications and updates about pregnancies, family members’ health, or any life-altering moment in the lives of people I care about.
• Vicariously peering into the lives of my FB friends that are doing something, funny, interesting, or remarkable that I would never have a clue about if it wasn’t for their FB posts.
• Getting a glimpse into the lives of my children and their friends.
• My author page.
Note to FB Fans: I’m sure you never post anything dumb. I’m talking about those other FB people.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I’m in the air somewhere between Alabama and North Carolina returning from a visit with the young man we’ve hired to illustrate our next children’s book. It’s been almost ten years since publishing Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy, and a lot has changed.
It’s no longer necessary to hire someone within driving distance. I could probably do the entire book without meeting our illustrator, copy editor, printer or anyone else we work with, in person, but call me old fashion; there’s something about looking a person in the eye and shaking their hand.
If anything my experience hiring an illustrator has taught me that some people probably communicate better in person. I hope so.
There’s a common misconception that publishing a children’s book is easy. After all it’s a children’s book. Novices soon find out that is exactly why it’s not so easy.
Nutcracker Publishing received over a hundred applicants for our illustrator position, reviewed all of them, interviewed a handful, and ultimately offered the job to Andrew Handley, a graphic design aritist from Madison, Alabama.
Andrew graduated December 09 from Auburn University with a BFA in Graphic Design. He’s just beginning what we believe is a promising career. We’re thrilled he agreed to illustrate our next children’s book.
Besides talent and digital computer skills, one thing that set Andrew apart was his communications abilities. As I’ve mentioned, today it’s not necessary to meet a prospective client in person, but this makes how you come across via e-mail even more important.
From a Publisher’s perspective, listed below is some advice for prospective illustrators. But it could be applied to aspiring artists of all types.
• Publishers, small and large, often do not disclose the name of their company when advertising a job. Why? Because rejection sucks, and despite our best intentions some applicants will be mad enough and unprofessional enough to bad mouth you/your company and/or send harassing e-mails.
• If all it took to illustrate a children’s picture book was being a talented artist I would not be advertising for one. Today it’s simply not enough to be able to draw the old-fashioned way, but you need to be able to transfer that talent to a computer.
• If you want us to respond then follow directions. One applicant sent me a rather nasty e-mail about our inability to communicate due to our non-response to his e-mail. We had responded, and he failed to follow directions. There’s a good reason clients ask for a quote and sample of your artwork. We don’t want to waste your time if we can’t afford you or if you are simply are not right for our project.
• Talent will not compensate for a bad attitude. Believe me I know what rejection feels like. If you want to succeed in this business-- get used to it. Competition is fierce, and even if a client loves your work there will probably be something they’ll not like, and ask you to change.
• Act professional. Just because you didn’t get the job doesn’t mean we didn’t like or even love your work. Maybe you’re quote was more than we could afford, or maybe your art style just wasn’t right for this particular project. Or as in our case, many of our artist submitted great work, but Andrew’s take on our character was just as we had imagined it ourselves.
• Be gracious when rejected. Ask us to keep you in mind for any other opportunities. Chances are the publisher you queried has other opportunities or colleagues looking for a recommendation. I know I’m hanging on to one of the illustrators I rejected. While I didn’t hire him to illustrate our nuke book, he’s perfect for another project.
• Do not blow smoke up a publisher’s butt. Maybe if I was a first-timer I might have considered the artist who advised me that today’s economy was the perfect time to publish a children’ s picture book . Well perfect for him maybe as he gets paid regardless of the success or failure of the book he illustrates.
• Do not allow anyone to blow smoke up your own butt. Today’s economy means times are difficult. Many seasoned professionals are unemployed. Before you quote a publisher what your college professor has told you is the starting salary for a professional illustrator, you might want to ask the seasoned professionals what they are making these days.
• If you are indeed a seasoned professional then don’t make a rookie mistake. One of the self-professed seasoned professionals I queried copied my e-mail address and included it in a mass mailing he spammed me and several hundred other unhappy recipients. The e-mail address I used was flooded with people who sent him notifications to delete their e-mail address from his mailing list. Not the way to attract clients.
• Spam is another reason publishers and/or prospective employers don’t always advertise who they are when they run an advertisement.
• If you’re answering an ad for employment, follow directions. Most publishers will understand if you need additional information before submitting a quote. However, in today’s market it’s imperative that an illustrator have something to show that’s on-line. Don’t bother responding to an e-mail that asks for sample art unless you can comply.
Nutcracker Publishing is a very small company. It's run by one determined woman. (I'm that woman.) Most the time I work alone, and when I get the opportunity to venture out and hire someone to work with me, I want someone who “gets” me. Life is bitchy enough, and I think you'll agree if you and a prospective employer can't communicate via a simple e-mail than you shouldn’t be working together.
Rejection bites, but remember those bitter bites are what makes success taste so sweet. Good luck!
It’s no longer necessary to hire someone within driving distance. I could probably do the entire book without meeting our illustrator, copy editor, printer or anyone else we work with, in person, but call me old fashion; there’s something about looking a person in the eye and shaking their hand.
If anything my experience hiring an illustrator has taught me that some people probably communicate better in person. I hope so.
There’s a common misconception that publishing a children’s book is easy. After all it’s a children’s book. Novices soon find out that is exactly why it’s not so easy.
Nutcracker Publishing received over a hundred applicants for our illustrator position, reviewed all of them, interviewed a handful, and ultimately offered the job to Andrew Handley, a graphic design aritist from Madison, Alabama.
Andrew graduated December 09 from Auburn University with a BFA in Graphic Design. He’s just beginning what we believe is a promising career. We’re thrilled he agreed to illustrate our next children’s book.
Besides talent and digital computer skills, one thing that set Andrew apart was his communications abilities. As I’ve mentioned, today it’s not necessary to meet a prospective client in person, but this makes how you come across via e-mail even more important.
From a Publisher’s perspective, listed below is some advice for prospective illustrators. But it could be applied to aspiring artists of all types.
• Publishers, small and large, often do not disclose the name of their company when advertising a job. Why? Because rejection sucks, and despite our best intentions some applicants will be mad enough and unprofessional enough to bad mouth you/your company and/or send harassing e-mails.
• If all it took to illustrate a children’s picture book was being a talented artist I would not be advertising for one. Today it’s simply not enough to be able to draw the old-fashioned way, but you need to be able to transfer that talent to a computer.
• If you want us to respond then follow directions. One applicant sent me a rather nasty e-mail about our inability to communicate due to our non-response to his e-mail. We had responded, and he failed to follow directions. There’s a good reason clients ask for a quote and sample of your artwork. We don’t want to waste your time if we can’t afford you or if you are simply are not right for our project.
• Talent will not compensate for a bad attitude. Believe me I know what rejection feels like. If you want to succeed in this business-- get used to it. Competition is fierce, and even if a client loves your work there will probably be something they’ll not like, and ask you to change.
• Act professional. Just because you didn’t get the job doesn’t mean we didn’t like or even love your work. Maybe you’re quote was more than we could afford, or maybe your art style just wasn’t right for this particular project. Or as in our case, many of our artist submitted great work, but Andrew’s take on our character was just as we had imagined it ourselves.
• Be gracious when rejected. Ask us to keep you in mind for any other opportunities. Chances are the publisher you queried has other opportunities or colleagues looking for a recommendation. I know I’m hanging on to one of the illustrators I rejected. While I didn’t hire him to illustrate our nuke book, he’s perfect for another project.
• Do not blow smoke up a publisher’s butt. Maybe if I was a first-timer I might have considered the artist who advised me that today’s economy was the perfect time to publish a children’ s picture book . Well perfect for him maybe as he gets paid regardless of the success or failure of the book he illustrates.
• Do not allow anyone to blow smoke up your own butt. Today’s economy means times are difficult. Many seasoned professionals are unemployed. Before you quote a publisher what your college professor has told you is the starting salary for a professional illustrator, you might want to ask the seasoned professionals what they are making these days.
• If you are indeed a seasoned professional then don’t make a rookie mistake. One of the self-professed seasoned professionals I queried copied my e-mail address and included it in a mass mailing he spammed me and several hundred other unhappy recipients. The e-mail address I used was flooded with people who sent him notifications to delete their e-mail address from his mailing list. Not the way to attract clients.
• Spam is another reason publishers and/or prospective employers don’t always advertise who they are when they run an advertisement.
• If you’re answering an ad for employment, follow directions. Most publishers will understand if you need additional information before submitting a quote. However, in today’s market it’s imperative that an illustrator have something to show that’s on-line. Don’t bother responding to an e-mail that asks for sample art unless you can comply.
Nutcracker Publishing is a very small company. It's run by one determined woman. (I'm that woman.) Most the time I work alone, and when I get the opportunity to venture out and hire someone to work with me, I want someone who “gets” me. Life is bitchy enough, and I think you'll agree if you and a prospective employer can't communicate via a simple e-mail than you shouldn’t be working together.
Rejection bites, but remember those bitter bites are what makes success taste so sweet. Good luck!
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Tabitha was born April 8th and a month later on Mother’s Day morning when I came into our kitchen, my husband, Randy had put her, all dressed up and strapped in her baby carrier, in the center of our kitchen table along with a bag of Hershey kisses and a dozen red roses. Even now the memory of it evokes a blissful thrill.
It seemed so surreal to me. Mother’s Day was a holiday for mothers. A day I gave gifts, and never imagined I would celebrate on the receiving end. Part of me was still in awe as how at the hospital they just handed over this precious intimidating creature and assumed I would know what to do with her. My qualifications were less than any teenager I ever hired to babysit my children.
Yet, somehow I’ve managed to muddle through. While I could pretend it’s my exemplary mothering skills the truth is sometimes mothering is a crap shoot, but when it comes to crap…I’ve always been lucky. Besides I’ve learned to wear rubber boots and how to shovel.
So when my son Jordan told me I didn’t know how lucky I was to have a son like him, as compared to most other 18 year olds. I pretty much told him the the reason he turned out so well was due to my exemplary mothering skills and said, “you are so lucky.”
Gosh, but it’s moments like that I really love being a mother. The chocolate cake my daughter baked me tonight for Mother’s Day doesn’t hurt either…once again she’s managed to evoke another blissful thrill.
Hope all Mother's feel as lucky as I do. Happy Mother's Day.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
If you listened to the From Surviving to Thriving Tele-summit you heard amazing women breast cancer thrivers share their journey from diagnosis to recovery and how breast cancer transformed our lives. If you didn’t have an opportunity to listen or want to listen again, creator and breast cancer thriver Rochelle Togo-Figa has made the recordings of all 10 guest speakers and information about their special bonus gifts available for you on her website: Your Life After Breast Cancer And, please feel free to share these recordings with other women breast cancer thrivers. Together we can create a movement of Thrivers!
My own recording was featured on Day Three- Finding your Voice, and is available for download at
Your Life After Breast Cancer. Special offers are listed below.
Amelia Frahm is author of the award winning children’s picture book, Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy, creator of Crack Open a Book! Cancer Education Programs, and owner of the Nutcracker Publishing Company. She was diagnosed 15 years ago when talking to young children about issues like cancer still raised eyebrows, and her book idea was rejected by mainstream publishers. Undaunted, she established Nutcracker Publishing and helped pioneer cancer education resources for children and families coping with cancer.
Bonus: From now until
Mother’s Day Amelia is offering a buy one—get one—book
offer, through her website
Nutcracker Publishing. Telesummit listeners were
also able to download a free copy of the
Cancer Education Curriculum. Plus, if you would like
Amelia Frahm to visit your classroom, book club,
organization or group, but live too far away let Amelia
know you participated in the telesummit and she’ll
Skype you for free. For more information go to
Amelia's Skype an Author Network page.
Especially for Breast Cancer Survivors - Join the “From Surviving to Thriving” Tele-Summit for a five day journey where you will learn more about how to take charge and transform your life.
It's true that breast cancer changes your life. It certainly changed mine.
I have learned much through my survivor experience and now am thrilled to be a part of "From Surviving to Thriving" a five day journey where you will learn more about how to take charge and transform your life into the one you wish to live. It's not enough just to survive anymore, let's all THRIVE together!
Register here: http://yourlifeafterbreastcancer.com/blog/surviving-to-thriving-telesummit/
If you register for this event you will learn from some Amazing Women Thrivers… I am so pleased to be counted as part of an amazing group of women who will share inspirational stories of surviving breast cancer to achieve phenomenal success while creating amazing lives on their terms. We will share how we overcame struggles and went on to create extraordinary lives. The details are below:
April 19 Finding Your Life Purpose Join us for two amazing stories that will leave you motivated and ready to become a thriver. Leave with the hope and inspiration you need to take your next step!
April 20 Following Your Passion Join us for an hour of "passionate pursuits" as we learn from women who have taken their diagnosis and turned it into a new path.
April 21 Finding Your Voice: Ever wondered how to turn your journey with breast cancer into a book? Join two thrivers as they share tips and hints on how to write the story inside you.
April 22 Being Unstoppable In the Face of Adversity: Hear from two amazing women entrepreneurs. Learn how nurturing an outlook of being unstoppable will help you take the next steps to becoming a thriver.
April 23 Turning Breast Cancer into a Gift: You will leave with new ideas and new ways to view your breast cancer journey, along with the inspiration and motivation you need to redesign your life and start thriving.
If this is compelling to you or if you know someone who this would profoundly impact their life, please join the FREE call. Registration information can be found at the following link: http://yourlifeafterbreastcancer.com/blog/surviving-to-thriving-telesummit/
February has always been a sweet month for me and not just because of the chocolates my family members know they better gift me with either.
My husband Randy and I were married in February, and this year we celebrated 21 years of marriage. I love him dearly, but he’s not the only baby I’m wishing a happy anniversary. I have a couple other babies-- close to my heart, and a little more personal.
Cause-- February marks the moment when a plastic surgeon assured me that he, and my other doctors wouldn’t suggest breast implants unless they thought I would live long enough to justify their expense, and the surgical procedure I would have to endure in order to enjoy my vanity.
The way I saw it, why bother if the only time I’d get to show them off was from a casket!
Of course, when I continued to pester him he admitted that as far as he was concerned, even a year should justify their cost. He was after all a plastic surgeon and not used to women who balked at the idea of breast implants.
Guess I’m glad for once I listened …it’s been sixteen years since Breast Cancer turned my life and future into an ominous question mark. It has been a long, mountainous journey, but the challenges, failures, and even what at first glance appeared to be rotten luck, are what have made my life most interesting.
I can laugh when I think about getting implants now. My husband advised, he had not married me for my boobs, and he did not want me to come back with Dolly Parton breasts. According to my plastic surgeon, that would not be a problem—“you can’t put a watermelon in a hole made for a cantaloupe,” he said...as he aimed a needle-- the size of the one my daddy used to use on his cattle--at me!
Cancer was the beginning of living a life where I have worried less about fear of failure, or what other people think, and more about making what time I have left significant.
This summer I was reminded once again how one moment can change a life forever, and how lucky I have been. It happened while I was skiing behind our boat. I pulled an under the breast/chest muscle and was jolted into remembering that I have implants due to reconstructive breast surgery.
My implant had not ruptured, but as my daughter rejoiced in telling me, “those implants are old.” It dawned on me that when the doctors’ advised me to get breast implants they never considered discussing replacement surgery because they never thought it would be necessary. As my Oncologist so delicately put it, “you’re odds are okay, I just wouldn’t go to Vegas on them, if I were you!”
Happy anniversary babies— should of gone to Vegas!
Our tree is up and the lights are working, the house has been ( as my former MN neighbor boy, Andrew Toperzer would say) over-decorated top to bottom, we've made Christmas cookies, candies, and gingerbread houses, and St. Nick has come and gone. Now all I have to do is my Christmas shopping. When Jordan was 5 years old he began writing his Christmas list for Santa in June and by Christmas had a total of about 58 items that he narrowed down to 12! Jordan is 17 years old now and not quite so greedy. He's only got one item on his list this year so you would think my Christmas shopping would be done already, but I have yet to buy a single gift. So this blog will be short, sweet and sentimental . I thought I would share some of my most cherished Christmas presents from my creative children when they were still in elementary school. Jordan is still a witty and talented writer (on the school newspaper staff ) and Tabitha's a gifted, award-winning artist.
So what do I think about it and how do I feel? Well I do not want to lose my credibility as an author/expert so I will try and refrain from becoming a ranting, raving, lunatic, but I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
November 16, I received a call from reporter, Julie Henry at my local NBC 17 news station here in Raleigh, North Carolina. Julie asked if I would give my opinion about an embargoed news release she had received regarding a new study about Mammography. She summarized what she had received and e-mailed me the information. Some of the highlights included:
• New recommendations from a federal task force recommend against screening mammograms for women between 40 and 49.
• Mammography is recommended only every other year for women between 50 and 74 years old.
• The report discourages doctors from teaching patients how to do breast self-exams.
Her news report along with a portion of my opinion can be viewed at:
http://news.mync.com/site/news/story2/44559/doctors-have-mixed-reviews-on-new-mammography-recommendations/
My indignation is not just for myself, but my children and especially their peers. The toddlers I wrote the book for are all grown up. The real Tabitha is now a young woman attending college and she will turn 20 this April.
She is brilliant and beautiful and has her whole life ahead of her. She and her friends, like most young people their age, feel invincible.
Unlike most of her peers however, Tabitha has been raised with the knowledge that she needs to be proactive when it comes to breast cancer.
Tabitha could have used this new mammography study as an opportunity to roll her eyes and point out that her mother is a worrywart and she has a good 20-30 years before she needs to worry about examining her breasts.
This is what bothers me most about this study. Young women with no family history of cancer, or as the study states it, "average odds", will think they have a free pass until they are at least 40.
Tabitha has been very vocal about her disapproval of the federal government’s new recommendations.
Like I said, she is brilliant, and I am lucky!
My luck began the day she jumped feet first, at age four, onto my lap while wearing cowboy boots. I put a hand up to protect myself and felt a lump in my breast. I had just turned 34 years old.
Back then mammograms were not recommended until you were 50 years old, and a self-examination was something doctors did not bother teaching patients until their real hair color was gray. Sound familiar?
This is what the federal government’s new mammography study is recommending we regress back to.
I am well aware the study does not pertain to women who have above average odds of getting Breast Cancer. The study is for women with average odds.
In my group of women friends, I was the geek who did not drink or smoke, exercised often, and was slim enough that I worried about looking pitiful once word got out about my cancer diagnosis.
As for family history, I was the first one in my family to be diagnosed with breast cancer. My mother was not diagnosed until almost a decade later, about the same time her sister was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.
Up until the day I was diagnosed my odds were below average. Up until that day I, too, had been invincible.
Julie had read some of my press releases (Scroll below to Ten Things a Survivor’s Teenaged Daughter Needs to Know) and had a good idea I would not be thrilled about the new information regarding self-examinations and mammography.
I continue to stand by what I have written and advocated pertaining to breast self-examines and mammograms. My opinion is: when it comes to your own body, you are your own best health care advocate. Better to be a live hypochondriac than die of breast cancer. It is treatable if diagnosed early. If your doctor blows off your concerns and points to any expert’s study, find another doctor.
The American Cancer Institute continues to recommend mammograms for women age 40 and up.
You can read the federal task force recommendations at:
http://www.biosciencetechnology.com/News/Feeds/2009/11/disease-research-embargoed-news-from-annals-of-internal-medicine
Information about mammograms can be found at the American Cancer Institute at: http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Detection/mammograms
On Wednesday I anxiously waited to see how my segment on Daytime turned out. Palms sweating, I sat on my couch and tuned into WNCN- NBC 17, Raleigh, North Carolina, the local station that airs the show, to see if I came across as the author/expert I am and not a blabbering idiot
I had a great time visiting the set of Daytime. One of the best things about it was the people I met in the Green Room.
I handle my own publicity, am not a celebrity author, and getting booked on a show with a national audience is not easy. The competition is fierce and most of the people you watch have usually paid a great deal of money for a publicity or public relations firm to book their appearance. So in my career as an author/publisher I have been very fortunate.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Hidden somewhere in my house is a video of a focus group or what we called a Guinea Pig Party I held a few years ago. It was my trial run for Crack Open A Book! It had great video of the Tickles Tabitha character with the children who participated in the program.
I was invited to appear on "Talk of the Town" a cable show on North Alabama's WYAM TV to talk about cancer education and promote Crack Open a Book! I had promised to bring a video of Tickles Tabitha, but I have been so busy writing, marketing et...I didn't bother looking for it until the last minute. So of course I couldn't find it.
As so often happens with me it's one of those times...I was busy trying to open a door and the window got flung wide open.
My family and I have moved cross country a few times now and the one thing we have always lucked out with is our neighbors! North Carolina is no exception and so the day before I had to fly to Alabama my daughter and our neighbor girls put together this video. It didn't take them all day either--they made it look way too easy.
When I fly home to North Carolina we're having a party to celebrate the debut of Tickles Tabitha and the Cancer Dancers!
If you would like to be trendy just ask me for suggestions. I have the dubious distinction of being a step ahead of convention, at least among the middle-class suburbanites that surround me. Which means I’m viewed as a dim-witted, oddity by the vast majority of the general public, and all my family members.
I’d like to point out not long ago Barack Obama was viewed as a dim-witted oddity, even without taking his ears into consideration, and look where it landed him!
Being a dim-witted oddity is how I came to own a publishing company. Fortunately, just about the time my company was established and my book went to print, a celebrity named Rosie O Donnell had become a cancer awareness trendsetter, she recommended my book and I didn’t appear so dim. My light lasted about as long as a match.
Trendsetting I’ve discovered only earns one admiration if you’re well known, well off, or not well acquainted with anyone doing the admiring.
I thought I’d risk public humiliation and write about a few of the trends I’m participating in at the moment. They’ve got to be worth writing about as every one of them have provoked some type of self-righteous indignation, or malicious laughter, and I’m once again being viewed as a dim-witted oddity.
Perhaps in another few months or years, I can point back to this Blog and prove I’m not dim, some people are just too blind to see the light.
Trend #1: My commuter marriage. We’ve been practicing it for three years now, my husband Randy is at present working at a 3M plant in Alabama while I live in North Carolina and our children finish high school. It’s not my favorite trend and not for the reasons you might think. Being an oddity I like to move around and I’ve been miffed, I’ve had to stay put.
Trend #2: It’s my favorite daytime guilty pleasure and I confess it’s the reason I don’t get much written some days. It’s not the soaps or the ladies on The View that has me mesmerized- that’s so yesterday. Nope, the only Squawk I listen to comes from the men of Squawk Box, Mad Money, and the Kudlow Report. Which brings me to…
Trend #3: My dirty little secret. It’s such an embarrassment. My husband would rather talk to his colleagues about my breast cancer than tell them this one! I’ve taken up Day Trading. Who knew math or financials could be so darn interesting? My daddy, who loves poker and has the reputation of being very good at it, always said, a professional Gambler never gambles. No, the professionals leave gambling to the idiots trading stocks on Wall Street. Oh, but I've enjoyed being an idiot, trading is just sinfully fun. I hold until I can take some off the top then as Cramer would say, I sell, sell, sell. I’m not the only woman I know doing it either, I’m not naming names but one of my dear childhood friends, had the courage to admit it on Facebook. She who had never even bought a Lotto ticket has been playing the stock market!
Trend #4: I’ve ditched the work out and joined the party! I’m attending Zumba classes. The other night I went to a Zumba party. This trend has probably been around for a while in the Latin community. What took the rest of us so long? Oh I know it must have been our children. After a little demonstration on my part, my children told me they never wanted to see “that” again and wished they could erase that visual from their minds. They’ll just have to get over it because for the first time in like – ever -- I’m actually looking forward to an exercise class!
Trend #5: “Crack Open a Book” children’s programs pertaining to cancer. It’s like
deja vu. As I received the same apprehensive response when I first penned Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy. A cancer education program for school children is a great idea- but is it really necessary?
Trend #6: My next children’s book. It’s taking me longer than it takes plastic to decay. I’m sure that’s a surprise to most my extended family members who think I don’t work, at least not a “real” job. Mine is an “imaginary” position, one where I watch the books fly off the shelves and sell themselves. With all that free time I should have been done already! I know it’s a shocker but writing is work. I’ve been at work writing a children’s book about nuclear power plants. Go ahead and laugh, but so you know, they laughed (behind my back) when I wrote a children’s book about cancer too, right up until Rosie O Donnell recommended it on national television.
Well Twitter this! Here it is almost Easter and I'm just now posting a Christmas photo and haven't blogged in months.
In February I celebrated 15 years of being cancer free.
I've been busy, but it appears these days you've not really done anything of importance unless you post it on line for friends, colleagues and significant strangers to read about.
Bragging, oops I meant marketing ones self has apparently gone main stream.
My pretty and hip thirty something neighbor sent me an invitation to WAYN.com, my friend, colleague and Internet provider Steve, guilted me into joining Linkedin.com, and my friend and former flight attendant colleague Debbie, told me to go to Facebook.com, where I can see all the places she's been now that's she's based in Paris, France.
Then there's Twitter- who thought of that? Had to be a man- a young, innocent and yet to be jaded by life man. "What are you doing?" What was he thinking, cause I'm thinking Twittering is going to get a lot of people in big trouble.
The problem I have with blogging is more than half the things I'd like to vent - I meant write about I can't. Well, I could but it wouldn't help book sells, win friends or make my family happy.
Oh, and just in case I get tired of sitting in the comfort of my own home, cozying up to the laptop as I Twitter other peoples lives, my friend Ellen was kind enough to yank me out of the house by inviting me to join Meetup.com, a network of local groups of any and all descriptions meeting in a location near you. All I had to do was go on line and type in my own zip code.
Tonight, if I can tear myself away from the Internet I'll be in Raleigh, NC, attending the Susan G. Komen North Carolina volunteer orientation meeting. It's not a meetup, just a meeting. Depending on how you look at it, I'm too busy or too boring to find time to Blog, much less Twitter.
In a year wrought with emotional upheaval, my mother-in-law Shirley Frahm was as always a pillar of strength, and after everything I’d gone through with my own mother, I did not want to miss an opportunity to let my husband’s mother know we loved her.
So shortly after writing my Mother’s Day Blog, my children and I drove down to Raeford, North Carolina, from our home in Apex, to visit her. I had to call first, because even at age 82, Grandma Frahm had several volunteer jobs, and a work ethnic that put people half her age to shame.
This would be our last visit before she was diagnosed with lung cancer, and I am so grateful I did not put it off. It was one of those times when I was trying to gift someone else, but in hindsight the gift was mine.
Our family matriarch died at her home Sunday morning, August 17, 2008 surrounded by the love of her family.
None of us were surprised she died on a Sunday as only Heaven could prevent Grandma Frahm from attending church. The world lost a good woman, and I lost an extraordinary mother-in-law.
By some quirk of fate instead of being saddled with the Mother-in-Law from Hell, I got the Mother-in-law from Heaven.
God knows what a guilty pleasure it is to complain about a mother-in-law, and I love to complain, but the most irksome thing about my mother-in-law was she didn’t give you anything to contribute when privy to a mother-in-law bashing contest. We all adored her.
Etched in my mind is how her eyes sparkled with amusement, the first time we met, in the kitchen of her house, as all nine of her children, the grandchildren, and a few family friends, traipsed in and out of the back door, and were proudly introduced to the girl, her middle son brought home from Texas.
My niece, JJ, was just a child back then, but she had such an expression of curiosity, reassurance, and pity on her face- I knew immediately I would love her- she got that empathy from her grandmother.
By the time we sit down, to say grace I had realized my future mother-in-law didn’t raise just one outstanding child, but eight others as well. After almost 20 years of being a part of the Frahm family, I still feel that way, and that is the miracle of Shirley Frahm.
I did not grow up in North Carolina, and very few of my Southern Baptist family members got to meet my devout Catholic mother-in-law, but boy, were they curious, and in awe of the woman who sired nine children, and one of them, a man capable of loving me.
I have always told them, “She’s they type of woman who raised nine children successfully, and could have raised nine more with one hand tied behind her back.”
Despite my admiration, it was not until March 26, 1992; I truly reciprocated the depth of my mother-in-law’s love. That day I gave birth to my son Jordan, and it finally clicked how difficult it must have been to entrust someone you love so much to another woman, how heartwrenching for her, and what a gift she had given me. Could any woman ever love the man as much as I loved that precious baby boy? I doubted it.
Grandma died with her tongue in tact, but it had to have been calloused from all the times she bit it and/or held it. She had a gift for diplomacy, and the ability to be nonjudgmental which I see in my daughter, Tabitha, and an innate goodness she passed on to my husband Randy, and son Jordan.
She also bestowed upon all nine of her children her arrogant good looks. Neither she nor her children are arrogant people, but they are a proud family, and never prouder than when they are all together. It can be a bit much for anyone not related to us, and some of us who are. As one of the younger family members pointed out recently, the Uncles are much nicer than they look.
Due to his arrogant good looks, I didn’t see my future husband’s innate goodness immediately. I had a Public Relations job at a nuclear plant, in Bay City, Texas. On numerous occasions I had bumped into Randy in passing, had nodded, or said hello. He had not as much as blinked acknowledgment. (I finally understand. My epitome came while raising our son.)
Outside of work, I couldn’t help but notice him at the local beach, he had a colorful catamaran, and he, and his boat were always surrounded by at least a half-dozen bikini clad sailboat groupies, which I presumed explained his conceited behavior.
While out with friends at a local club one night, an acquaintance, asked if he could introduce me to a friend of his who would like to meet me, and pointed to Randy. The poor man received an earful of wrath. I told him in no uncertain terms not to bother, as I had seen this guy around, and found him vain, condescending, and arrogant.
I was a 28 year old working girl, and friends, colleagues, most of my family members, and I had concluded I wasn’t marriage material. I wasn’t exactly looking for love when Randy walked up, and demanded to know why I would think he was arrogant.
I had never heard him speak until that moment, and it was the deepest, sexiest voice I had ever heard, and to my surprise- because I just knew he was from up North- he had a southern accent. It was before Thanksgiving, and he explained he was on his way home, to Raeford, North Carolina. Somewhere during our conversation he went on to drawl the words that changed my opinion of him, and ultimately my destiny, when he told me he was looking forward to going home and eating a slice of “my mamma’s pecan pie.”
A simple little sentence, he doesn’t even remember took my breath away, for in it he conveyed the love, admiration, and respect he had for his mother, and I knew intuitively this man would respect me too.
It would be months before we were seriously dating and a year later before I would accompany him home to Raeford at Thanksgiving- to meet Shirley Frahm, but when anyone has ever asked me when I thought I fell in love with Randy – my mind goes back to that night, and the way he said, “my mamma’s pecan pie” and somewhere in my journals I have written this down for my children. Along with the unsolicited advice, that the best indication of a good man is his mamma.
Recently my 16 year old son, Jordan told me, (after a brief outing where I sat in the passenger seat while he drove) “You’re like one of those really old people who appear to be crazy – but it’s because they’re so old. Only you do it, and you’re not even that old- YET! You’re just crazy.”
One of the Mother’s Day cards I purchased this year reads- Mother’s Day Is Not For Sissies.
Happy Mother's Day Granny Pat!
My own recording was featured on Day Three- Finding your Voice, and is available for download at
Your Life After Breast Cancer. Special offers are listed below.
Amelia Frahm is author of the award winning children’s picture book, Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy, creator of Crack Open a Book! Cancer Education Programs, and owner of the Nutcracker Publishing Company. She was diagnosed 15 years ago when talking to young children about issues like cancer still raised eyebrows, and her book idea was rejected by mainstream publishers. Undaunted, she established Nutcracker Publishing and helped pioneer cancer education resources for children and families coping with cancer.
Bonus: From now until
Mother’s Day Amelia is offering a buy one—get one—book
offer, through her website
Nutcracker Publishing. Telesummit listeners were
also able to download a free copy of the
Cancer Education Curriculum. Plus, if you would like
Amelia Frahm to visit your classroom, book club,
organization or group, but live too far away let Amelia
know you participated in the telesummit and she’ll
Skype you for free. For more information go to
Amelia's Skype an Author Network page.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
It's true that breast cancer changes your life. It certainly changed mine.
I have learned much through my survivor experience and now am thrilled to be a part of "From Surviving to Thriving" a five day journey where you will learn more about how to take charge and transform your life into the one you wish to live. It's not enough just to survive anymore, let's all THRIVE together!
Register here: http://yourlifeafterbreastcancer.com/blog/surviving-to-thriving-telesummit/
If you register for this event you will learn from some Amazing Women Thrivers… I am so pleased to be counted as part of an amazing group of women who will share inspirational stories of surviving breast cancer to achieve phenomenal success while creating amazing lives on their terms. We will share how we overcame struggles and went on to create extraordinary lives. The details are below:
April 19 Finding Your Life Purpose Join us for two amazing stories that will leave you motivated and ready to become a thriver. Leave with the hope and inspiration you need to take your next step!
April 20 Following Your Passion Join us for an hour of "passionate pursuits" as we learn from women who have taken their diagnosis and turned it into a new path.
April 21 Finding Your Voice: Ever wondered how to turn your journey with breast cancer into a book? Join two thrivers as they share tips and hints on how to write the story inside you.
April 22 Being Unstoppable In the Face of Adversity: Hear from two amazing women entrepreneurs. Learn how nurturing an outlook of being unstoppable will help you take the next steps to becoming a thriver.
April 23 Turning Breast Cancer into a Gift: You will leave with new ideas and new ways to view your breast cancer journey, along with the inspiration and motivation you need to redesign your life and start thriving.
If this is compelling to you or if you know someone who this would profoundly impact their life, please join the FREE call. Registration information can be found at the following link: http://yourlifeafterbreastcancer.com/blog/surviving-to-thriving-telesummit/
Thursday, February 25, 2010
My husband Randy and I were married in February, and this year we celebrated 21 years of marriage. I love him dearly, but he’s not the only baby I’m wishing a happy anniversary. I have a couple other babies-- close to my heart, and a little more personal.
Cause-- February marks the moment when a plastic surgeon assured me that he, and my other doctors wouldn’t suggest breast implants unless they thought I would live long enough to justify their expense, and the surgical procedure I would have to endure in order to enjoy my vanity.
The way I saw it, why bother if the only time I’d get to show them off was from a casket!
Of course, when I continued to pester him he admitted that as far as he was concerned, even a year should justify their cost. He was after all a plastic surgeon and not used to women who balked at the idea of breast implants.
Guess I’m glad for once I listened …it’s been sixteen years since Breast Cancer turned my life and future into an ominous question mark. It has been a long, mountainous journey, but the challenges, failures, and even what at first glance appeared to be rotten luck, are what have made my life most interesting.
I can laugh when I think about getting implants now. My husband advised, he had not married me for my boobs, and he did not want me to come back with Dolly Parton breasts. According to my plastic surgeon, that would not be a problem—“you can’t put a watermelon in a hole made for a cantaloupe,” he said...as he aimed a needle-- the size of the one my daddy used to use on his cattle--at me!
Cancer was the beginning of living a life where I have worried less about fear of failure, or what other people think, and more about making what time I have left significant.
This summer I was reminded once again how one moment can change a life forever, and how lucky I have been. It happened while I was skiing behind our boat. I pulled an under the breast/chest muscle and was jolted into remembering that I have implants due to reconstructive breast surgery.
My implant had not ruptured, but as my daughter rejoiced in telling me, “those implants are old.” It dawned on me that when the doctors’ advised me to get breast implants they never considered discussing replacement surgery because they never thought it would be necessary. As my Oncologist so delicately put it, “you’re odds are okay, I just wouldn’t go to Vegas on them, if I were you!”
Happy anniversary babies— should of gone to Vegas!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Recently my family went to Granbury, Texas to unite with our children’s God Mama Rita who flew in from California, and her daughter Tushi, and family who reside in Granbury.
Granbury is where Randy and I were married, Tabitha was born, and we purchased our very first home together.
Twenty years ago I sat in that house’s living room on my pristine white sofa, excited and terrified as I wondered, how in the world I would be able to handle having a baby. Marriage was one thing, but a baby would be with me 24/7.
“You’re not going to be able to take a crap without that baby handing you the toilet tissue,” God-Mama Rita had laughed.
I was used to my independence, having my alone time, AND-- I liked it.
There was a reason I had a white sofa and it was because I didn’t expect children to be sitting on it. I didn’t dislike children, however, I will admit to surveying a restaurant’s dining area… even while pregnant, and informing the wait staff if they valued a tip to seat me as far as possible from any screaming brats.
These days the cries of screaming brats evoke only my sympathy and a touch of jealousy as my own brats are all grown up.
Only yesterday it was the new Millennium and I was in Minnesota, tucking my Dimple Dumpling, a.k.a. my son, Jordan into his bed covers, and asking, “Who’s the best little boy in the whole wide world?” He would reply, “Me!” Then at his request, I would fold his blankie “like a hamburger,” and tell him, “sleep tight, and don’t let the bed bugs bite you on the butt.” Then pinch his butt, and as he lay giggling, I would go to his sister’s room where Tabitha, a.k.a. my Baby Doll would ask me to sing her song. “I have a pretty Baby Doll her name is Tabitha…T –A-B-I-T-H-A… I would sing… off key. A song first devised to help my daughter learn to spell her name.
My Baby Doll began her first day back to class in 2010, as a college junior, and in June, the best little boy in the whole wide world will graduate from high school.
Today, I’m home in North Carolina, sitting on a leather sofa that’s a strategic shade of brown in a living room that could fit the entire footprint of our first home. My children have grown up to be competent, open-minded, independent young adults, and I often have to pinch myself I’ve been so lucky.
Yet, everything and nothing has changed. Once again I am both excited and terrified as I wonder how I will manage without those disruptive babies I selfishly thought would be an imposition to my alone time as they now began their own adult lives.
“You like being alone, you’ll be fine,” God-Mama Rita has advised me.
I now realize how excited and terrified Rita must have been when she moved from California to Texas. She left behind her grown-up baby boy to begin a new life with a charming, mischievous, man named Henry Orozco. Missing her own son, she took pity on the young, single guy who had the good fortune to move in across from them—my husband Randy.
Our lives have been blessed time and again by the advice of this amazing, self-less, sometimes crazy, devout Catholic, woman. God-Mama Rita enters this decade without self-pity and without her Henry. Her husband, our God-Papa Henry passed away this summer.
“Life goes on,” she told me through tears, “it’s the way God intended.”
So for God-Mama Rita, and all my other excited, terrified women friends as we face our future. May this be our best decade yet. Happy 2010!
Granbury is where Randy and I were married, Tabitha was born, and we purchased our very first home together.
“You’re not going to be able to take a crap without that baby handing you the toilet tissue,” God-Mama Rita had laughed.
I was used to my independence, having my alone time, AND-- I liked it.
There was a reason I had a white sofa and it was because I didn’t expect children to be sitting on it. I didn’t dislike children, however, I will admit to surveying a restaurant’s dining area… even while pregnant, and informing the wait staff if they valued a tip to seat me as far as possible from any screaming brats.
These days the cries of screaming brats evoke only my sympathy and a touch of jealousy as my own brats are all grown up.
Only yesterday it was the new Millennium and I was in Minnesota, tucking my Dimple Dumpling, a.k.a. my son, Jordan into his bed covers, and asking, “Who’s the best little boy in the whole wide world?” He would reply, “Me!” Then at his request, I would fold his blankie “like a hamburger,” and tell him, “sleep tight, and don’t let the bed bugs bite you on the butt.” Then pinch his butt, and as he lay giggling, I would go to his sister’s room where Tabitha, a.k.a. my Baby Doll would ask me to sing her song. “I have a pretty Baby Doll her name is Tabitha…T –A-B-I-T-H-A… I would sing… off key. A song first devised to help my daughter learn to spell her name.
My Baby Doll began her first day back to class in 2010, as a college junior, and in June, the best little boy in the whole wide world will graduate from high school.
Today, I’m home in North Carolina, sitting on a leather sofa that’s a strategic shade of brown in a living room that could fit the entire footprint of our first home. My children have grown up to be competent, open-minded, independent young adults, and I often have to pinch myself I’ve been so lucky.
Yet, everything and nothing has changed. Once again I am both excited and terrified as I wonder how I will manage without those disruptive babies I selfishly thought would be an imposition to my alone time as they now began their own adult lives.
“You like being alone, you’ll be fine,” God-Mama Rita has advised me.
I now realize how excited and terrified Rita must have been when she moved from California to Texas. She left behind her grown-up baby boy to begin a new life with a charming, mischievous, man named Henry Orozco. Missing her own son, she took pity on the young, single guy who had the good fortune to move in across from them—my husband Randy.
Our lives have been blessed time and again by the advice of this amazing, self-less, sometimes crazy, devout Catholic, woman. God-Mama Rita enters this decade without self-pity and without her Henry. Her husband, our God-Papa Henry passed away this summer.
“Life goes on,” she told me through tears, “it’s the way God intended.”
So for God-Mama Rita, and all my other excited, terrified women friends as we face our future. May this be our best decade yet. Happy 2010!
Friday, December 11, 2009
Our tree is up and the lights are working, the house has been ( as my former MN neighbor boy, Andrew Toperzer would say) over-decorated top to bottom, we've made Christmas cookies, candies, and gingerbread houses, and St. Nick has come and gone. Now all I have to do is my Christmas shopping. When Jordan was 5 years old he began writing his Christmas list for Santa in June and by Christmas had a total of about 58 items that he narrowed down to 12! Jordan is 17 years old now and not quite so greedy. He's only got one item on his list this year so you would think my Christmas shopping would be done already, but I have yet to buy a single gift. So this blog will be short, sweet and sentimental . I thought I would share some of my most cherished Christmas presents from my creative children when they were still in elementary school. Jordan is still a witty and talented writer (on the school newspaper staff ) and Tabitha's a gifted, award-winning artist.
I am off to do some shopping, baking, crafting and all the other activities that come with the season --and this year it seems "other" means ridding myself of a nasty computer virus that has infected my laptop. Bah, humbug!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
So what do I think about it and how do I feel? Well I do not want to lose my credibility as an author/expert so I will try and refrain from becoming a ranting, raving, lunatic, but I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
November 16, I received a call from reporter, Julie Henry at my local NBC 17 news station here in Raleigh, North Carolina. Julie asked if I would give my opinion about an embargoed news release she had received regarding a new study about Mammography. She summarized what she had received and e-mailed me the information. Some of the highlights included:
• New recommendations from a federal task force recommend against screening mammograms for women between 40 and 49.
• Mammography is recommended only every other year for women between 50 and 74 years old.
• The report discourages doctors from teaching patients how to do breast self-exams.
Her news report along with a portion of my opinion can be viewed at:
http://news.mync.com/site/news/story2/44559/doctors-have-mixed-reviews-on-new-mammography-recommendations/
My indignation is not just for myself, but my children and especially their peers. The toddlers I wrote the book for are all grown up. The real Tabitha is now a young woman attending college and she will turn 20 this April.
She is brilliant and beautiful and has her whole life ahead of her. She and her friends, like most young people their age, feel invincible.
Unlike most of her peers however, Tabitha has been raised with the knowledge that she needs to be proactive when it comes to breast cancer.
Tabitha could have used this new mammography study as an opportunity to roll her eyes and point out that her mother is a worrywart and she has a good 20-30 years before she needs to worry about examining her breasts.
This is what bothers me most about this study. Young women with no family history of cancer, or as the study states it, "average odds", will think they have a free pass until they are at least 40.
Tabitha has been very vocal about her disapproval of the federal government’s new recommendations.
Like I said, she is brilliant, and I am lucky!
My luck began the day she jumped feet first, at age four, onto my lap while wearing cowboy boots. I put a hand up to protect myself and felt a lump in my breast. I had just turned 34 years old.
Back then mammograms were not recommended until you were 50 years old, and a self-examination was something doctors did not bother teaching patients until their real hair color was gray. Sound familiar?
This is what the federal government’s new mammography study is recommending we regress back to.
I am well aware the study does not pertain to women who have above average odds of getting Breast Cancer. The study is for women with average odds.
In my group of women friends, I was the geek who did not drink or smoke, exercised often, and was slim enough that I worried about looking pitiful once word got out about my cancer diagnosis.
As for family history, I was the first one in my family to be diagnosed with breast cancer. My mother was not diagnosed until almost a decade later, about the same time her sister was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.
Up until the day I was diagnosed my odds were below average. Up until that day I, too, had been invincible.
Julie had read some of my press releases (Scroll below to Ten Things a Survivor’s Teenaged Daughter Needs to Know) and had a good idea I would not be thrilled about the new information regarding self-examinations and mammography.
I continue to stand by what I have written and advocated pertaining to breast self-examines and mammograms. My opinion is: when it comes to your own body, you are your own best health care advocate. Better to be a live hypochondriac than die of breast cancer. It is treatable if diagnosed early. If your doctor blows off your concerns and points to any expert’s study, find another doctor.
The American Cancer Institute continues to recommend mammograms for women age 40 and up.
You can read the federal task force recommendations at:
http://www.biosciencetechnology.com/News/Feeds/2009/11/disease-research-embargoed-news-from-annals-of-internal-medicine
Information about mammograms can be found at the American Cancer Institute at: http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Detection/mammograms
Saturday, October 31, 2009
On Wednesday I anxiously waited to see how my segment on Daytime turned out. Palms sweating, I sat on my couch and tuned into WNCN- NBC 17, Raleigh, North Carolina, the local station that airs the show, to see if I came across as the author/expert I am and not a blabbering idiot Wouldn’t you know it? It did not air locally due to bad weather the night before that affected their satellite transmissions. I’ve no idea when it will air locally now, but stay tuned…..
I had a great time visiting the set of Daytime. One of the best things about it was the people I met in the Green Room.
I handle my own publicity, am not a celebrity author, and getting booked on a show with a national audience is not easy. The competition is fierce and most of the people you watch have usually paid a great deal of money for a publicity or public relations firm to book their appearance. So in my career as an author/publisher I have been very fortunate.
After my experience on the set at Daytime I realized just how very fortunate! All the other experts in the Green Room were beautiful, brilliant, and a size zero! Yeah, it was FRIGHTENING, especially those size zeros! It would be easy to hate them, except they were all so darn nice.
Instead I thought I would namedrop some of the people in the Green Room:
Frightening
That would have been me!
Sexy
Sexologist, Dr. Yvonne K. Fulbright : http://www.sexualitysource.com/companyservices.php. Do you have to be sexy to be a sexpert? My guess is, yes!
Green
Founder of GreenWell, Kimberly Button: http://www.greewellconsulting.com/. Yes, she was cute as a button. I’ll bet she gets tired of hearing that. I got to watch Kimberly film her segment, A Green Halloween , her personality really comes across and, she made it look way too easy.
Co-Founders and Owners of Green Nest, Lisa and Ron Beres: http://www.greennest.com/about_us.php. I would not be surprised to see this kind, and charismatic couple hosting their own TV show one day.
Twilight
Twilight Casting Director, Lana Veenker: http://castingscoop.blogspot.com/. One of the brilliant minds behind the blockbuster vampire movie Twilight. Lana was accompanied by her friend Sybil, who looked like she should be, and I later discovered she was—an actress. They were the whole package, beauty, brains, success, but the thing that struck me most about these women was how approachable and down to earth they were.
Halloween
Tabitha and Jordan are all grown up now, but I thought I would post a few of my favorite photos of costumes we did for past Halloweens. For more photos go to my Facebook Author Page:
Amelia Frahm.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Friday, October 23, 2009
October is a bittersweet month for me. I love this time of year, dressing up for Halloween, the cooler temperatures, the beauty of the leaves as they change color.
October is also the month I lost my friend Laura Bouldin Karlman to cancer, and this October I am sad to write that her mother Barbara Bouldin's family has requested Hospice services for her.
Once again I am reminded why I established Nutcracker Publishing in the first place and I have been busy trying to remind everyone else.
My efforts have paid off and I have received some national press. This weekend I will be flying to Tampa, Florida to film a segment for the syndicated lifestyle and entertainment program Daytime.
You can read about it below in Nutcracker Publishing's latest press release:
#Beat Cancer: Author and Cancer Survivor Amelia Frahm talks about establishing a Career while beating Cancer.
Raleigh, NC---Amelia Frahm, the award-winning author of Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy, and creator of Crack Open A Book! cancer education programs will be in Tampa, Florida, October 26th, to film a segment for the syndicated lifestyle and entertainment program Daytime, on how she established a career while beating cancer.
“Somewhere along the way I quit thinking of cancer as my diagnosis and began thinking of it as my career,” says Frahm.
She will share with Daytime viewers how the courage, motivation, and perseverance she used to battle cancer prepared her for the rejection, humiliation, and even bad-luck she experienced in order to establish her career as a successful author and publisher.
A career was the last thing on Frahm’s mind when diagnosed with Breast Cancer 15 years ago. She was 34 years old, the mother of two toddlers, and all she wanted was to find a children’s book to help explain what she was going through to her children.
Diagnosed during a time when talking to children about cancer was considered unconventional, Frahm’s experience resulted in her originating the Nutcracker Publishing Company, and publishing Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tanerkous Mommy, a children’s book about a family surviving the emotional and moody behavior of a mom battling cancer.
Her book was released in October 2001, and made national headlines when it debuted on the Rosie O Donnell Talk Show amidst an Anthrax scare that shut down O Donnell’s New York City studios.
Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy is recognized across the country as recommended reading for families coping with cancer. Last year Frahm’s company, Nutcracker Publishing, introduced a blonde pig-tailed Tickles Tabitha and launched the first cancer education school program, created by a cancer survivor, designed specifically for elementary aged children.
Frahm has appeared on radio and TV segments across the country, and is a member of the National Cancer Survivors Speakers Bureau. In August her story was recognized by the National StandUp2Cancer Foundation:
://www.standup2cancer.org/blog_su2c/2009/08/with_you_we_stand_-_81809.php
This October, she and Tickles Tabitha were pictured on MSNBC Today First Person at: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33245310.
-end-
My efforts have paid off and I have received some national press. This weekend I will be flying to Tampa, Florida to film a segment for the syndicated lifestyle and entertainment program Daytime.
You can read about it below in Nutcracker Publishing's latest press release:
#Beat Cancer: Author and Cancer Survivor Amelia Frahm talks about establishing a Career while beating Cancer.
Raleigh, NC---Amelia Frahm, the award-winning author of Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy, and creator of Crack Open A Book! cancer education programs will be in Tampa, Florida, October 26th, to film a segment for the syndicated lifestyle and entertainment program Daytime, on how she established a career while beating cancer.
“Somewhere along the way I quit thinking of cancer as my diagnosis and began thinking of it as my career,” says Frahm.
She will share with Daytime viewers how the courage, motivation, and perseverance she used to battle cancer prepared her for the rejection, humiliation, and even bad-luck she experienced in order to establish her career as a successful author and publisher.
A career was the last thing on Frahm’s mind when diagnosed with Breast Cancer 15 years ago. She was 34 years old, the mother of two toddlers, and all she wanted was to find a children’s book to help explain what she was going through to her children.
Diagnosed during a time when talking to children about cancer was considered unconventional, Frahm’s experience resulted in her originating the Nutcracker Publishing Company, and publishing Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tanerkous Mommy, a children’s book about a family surviving the emotional and moody behavior of a mom battling cancer.
Her book was released in October 2001, and made national headlines when it debuted on the Rosie O Donnell Talk Show amidst an Anthrax scare that shut down O Donnell’s New York City studios.
Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy is recognized across the country as recommended reading for families coping with cancer. Last year Frahm’s company, Nutcracker Publishing, introduced a blonde pig-tailed Tickles Tabitha and launched the first cancer education school program, created by a cancer survivor, designed specifically for elementary aged children.
Frahm has appeared on radio and TV segments across the country, and is a member of the National Cancer Survivors Speakers Bureau. In August her story was recognized by the National StandUp2Cancer Foundation:
://www.standup2cancer.org/blog_su2c/2009/08/with_you_we_stand_-_81809.php
This October, she and Tickles Tabitha were pictured on MSNBC Today First Person at: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33245310.
-end-
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Breast Cancer: Ten Things a Survivor’s Teenage Daughter Needs to Know
Will my Mom die? is the first question most children want answered when their mother is diagnosed with Breast Cancer, but “teenage girls have other important concerns as well.
Five years ago, while doing an interview for the News and Observer in Raleigh, North Carolina, my daughter Tabitha, who was 14 at the time, told the reporter, she just always assumed she was destined to get Breast Cancer and, “never thought I wouldn’t get it.”
Hearing her say it aloud-- I felt like I had been kicked in the heart. The first thing a Mother thinks about when diagnosed with Breast Cancer is how it will affect her children. The last thing she wants is her own daughter to be diagnosed with it, if there is some consolation it is knowing your diagnosis could help save your daughter’s life.
Tabitha is now 19, a college student at NC State University, majoring in (no surprise to me) Psychology.
To read our list of Ten Things a Survivor's Teenage Daughter Needs to Know, click on the Breast Cancer Awareness link below.
OCTOBER/ BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH
Will my Mom die? is the first question most children want answered when their mother is diagnosed with Breast Cancer, but “teenage girls have other important concerns as well.
Five years ago, while doing an interview for the News and Observer in Raleigh, North Carolina, my daughter Tabitha, who was 14 at the time, told the reporter, she just always assumed she was destined to get Breast Cancer and, “never thought I wouldn’t get it.”
Hearing her say it aloud-- I felt like I had been kicked in the heart. The first thing a Mother thinks about when diagnosed with Breast Cancer is how it will affect her children. The last thing she wants is her own daughter to be diagnosed with it, if there is some consolation it is knowing your diagnosis could help save your daughter’s life.
Tabitha is now 19, a college student at NC State University, majoring in (no surprise to me) Psychology.
To read our list of Ten Things a Survivor's Teenage Daughter Needs to Know, click on the Breast Cancer Awareness link below.
OCTOBER/ BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Hidden somewhere in my house is a video of a focus group or what we called a Guinea Pig Party I held a few years ago. It was my trial run for Crack Open A Book! It had great video of the Tickles Tabitha character with the children who participated in the program.
I was invited to appear on "Talk of the Town" a cable show on North Alabama's WYAM TV to talk about cancer education and promote Crack Open a Book! I had promised to bring a video of Tickles Tabitha, but I have been so busy writing, marketing et...I didn't bother looking for it until the last minute. So of course I couldn't find it.
As so often happens with me it's one of those times...I was busy trying to open a door and the window got flung wide open.
My family and I have moved cross country a few times now and the one thing we have always lucked out with is our neighbors! North Carolina is no exception and so the day before I had to fly to Alabama my daughter and our neighbor girls put together this video. It didn't take them all day either--they made it look way too easy.
When I fly home to North Carolina we're having a party to celebrate the debut of Tickles Tabitha and the Cancer Dancers!
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
“I’ve had a baaaad (bad) day.” That is what my son Jordan would say when I would ask about his day at Kindergarten. The look on my face, the pity, and the concerned mothering my “Dimple Dumpling” got after blurting out how bad his day was must of made him feel better.
Because for weeks there after when I would inquire about his day at Kindergarten he would reply, “I had a bad day.” Not near as bad as I felt hearing him say it.
I realized soon, but not soon enough for his father and sister, Tabitha that he was playing me.
So one day when I picked him up I bit my tongue and did not ask Jordan about his day. Tabitha and I still laugh about it, because it only took him a few moments to demand, “Aren’t you going to ask about my day?” “ No! Jordan,” his sister told him, “we don’t want to know how bad it was.”
I thought about that this past week as I watched Jordan drive off to school for the first day of his senior year. Not a bad day at all for him, but sad and bittersweet to me. The green eyes and dimples are all that remain of my chubby little boy and every day I have got to spend watching him grow up has been a blessing.
My children have had to handle all sorts of challenges, and living with me with or without cancer was not always a good day either. Yet, they have grown up to be the kind of young people that make me look good when it comes to being a Mother.
I attribute it to all those baaaad days.
Because for weeks there after when I would inquire about his day at Kindergarten he would reply, “I had a bad day.” Not near as bad as I felt hearing him say it.
I realized soon, but not soon enough for his father and sister, Tabitha that he was playing me.
So one day when I picked him up I bit my tongue and did not ask Jordan about his day. Tabitha and I still laugh about it, because it only took him a few moments to demand, “Aren’t you going to ask about my day?” “ No! Jordan,” his sister told him, “we don’t want to know how bad it was.”
I thought about that this past week as I watched Jordan drive off to school for the first day of his senior year. Not a bad day at all for him, but sad and bittersweet to me. The green eyes and dimples are all that remain of my chubby little boy and every day I have got to spend watching him grow up has been a blessing.
My children have had to handle all sorts of challenges, and living with me with or without cancer was not always a good day either. Yet, they have grown up to be the kind of young people that make me look good when it comes to being a Mother.
I attribute it to all those baaaad days.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
If you would like to be trendy just ask me for suggestions. I have the dubious distinction of being a step ahead of convention, at least among the middle-class suburbanites that surround me. Which means I’m viewed as a dim-witted, oddity by the vast majority of the general public, and all my family members.
I’d like to point out not long ago Barack Obama was viewed as a dim-witted oddity, even without taking his ears into consideration, and look where it landed him!
Being a dim-witted oddity is how I came to own a publishing company. Fortunately, just about the time my company was established and my book went to print, a celebrity named Rosie O Donnell had become a cancer awareness trendsetter, she recommended my book and I didn’t appear so dim. My light lasted about as long as a match.
Trendsetting I’ve discovered only earns one admiration if you’re well known, well off, or not well acquainted with anyone doing the admiring.
I thought I’d risk public humiliation and write about a few of the trends I’m participating in at the moment. They’ve got to be worth writing about as every one of them have provoked some type of self-righteous indignation, or malicious laughter, and I’m once again being viewed as a dim-witted oddity.
Perhaps in another few months or years, I can point back to this Blog and prove I’m not dim, some people are just too blind to see the light.
Trend #1: My commuter marriage. We’ve been practicing it for three years now, my husband Randy is at present working at a 3M plant in Alabama while I live in North Carolina and our children finish high school. It’s not my favorite trend and not for the reasons you might think. Being an oddity I like to move around and I’ve been miffed, I’ve had to stay put.
Trend #2: It’s my favorite daytime guilty pleasure and I confess it’s the reason I don’t get much written some days. It’s not the soaps or the ladies on The View that has me mesmerized- that’s so yesterday. Nope, the only Squawk I listen to comes from the men of Squawk Box, Mad Money, and the Kudlow Report. Which brings me to…
Trend #3: My dirty little secret. It’s such an embarrassment. My husband would rather talk to his colleagues about my breast cancer than tell them this one! I’ve taken up Day Trading. Who knew math or financials could be so darn interesting? My daddy, who loves poker and has the reputation of being very good at it, always said, a professional Gambler never gambles. No, the professionals leave gambling to the idiots trading stocks on Wall Street. Oh, but I've enjoyed being an idiot, trading is just sinfully fun. I hold until I can take some off the top then as Cramer would say, I sell, sell, sell. I’m not the only woman I know doing it either, I’m not naming names but one of my dear childhood friends, had the courage to admit it on Facebook. She who had never even bought a Lotto ticket has been playing the stock market!
Trend #4: I’ve ditched the work out and joined the party! I’m attending Zumba classes. The other night I went to a Zumba party. This trend has probably been around for a while in the Latin community. What took the rest of us so long? Oh I know it must have been our children. After a little demonstration on my part, my children told me they never wanted to see “that” again and wished they could erase that visual from their minds. They’ll just have to get over it because for the first time in like – ever -- I’m actually looking forward to an exercise class!
Trend #5: “Crack Open a Book” children’s programs pertaining to cancer. It’s like
deja vu. As I received the same apprehensive response when I first penned Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy. A cancer education program for school children is a great idea- but is it really necessary?
Trend #6: My next children’s book. It’s taking me longer than it takes plastic to decay. I’m sure that’s a surprise to most my extended family members who think I don’t work, at least not a “real” job. Mine is an “imaginary” position, one where I watch the books fly off the shelves and sell themselves. With all that free time I should have been done already! I know it’s a shocker but writing is work. I’ve been at work writing a children’s book about nuclear power plants. Go ahead and laugh, but so you know, they laughed (behind my back) when I wrote a children’s book about cancer too, right up until Rosie O Donnell recommended it on national television.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Well Twitter this! Here it is almost Easter and I'm just now posting a Christmas photo and haven't blogged in months.In February I celebrated 15 years of being cancer free.
I've been busy, but it appears these days you've not really done anything of importance unless you post it on line for friends, colleagues and significant strangers to read about.
Bragging, oops I meant marketing ones self has apparently gone main stream.
My pretty and hip thirty something neighbor sent me an invitation to WAYN.com, my friend, colleague and Internet provider Steve, guilted me into joining Linkedin.com, and my friend and former flight attendant colleague Debbie, told me to go to Facebook.com, where I can see all the places she's been now that's she's based in Paris, France.
Then there's Twitter- who thought of that? Had to be a man- a young, innocent and yet to be jaded by life man. "What are you doing?" What was he thinking, cause I'm thinking Twittering is going to get a lot of people in big trouble.
The problem I have with blogging is more than half the things I'd like to vent - I meant write about I can't. Well, I could but it wouldn't help book sells, win friends or make my family happy.
Oh, and just in case I get tired of sitting in the comfort of my own home, cozying up to the laptop as I Twitter other peoples lives, my friend Ellen was kind enough to yank me out of the house by inviting me to join Meetup.com, a network of local groups of any and all descriptions meeting in a location near you. All I had to do was go on line and type in my own zip code.
Tonight, if I can tear myself away from the Internet I'll be in Raleigh, NC, attending the Susan G. Komen North Carolina volunteer orientation meeting. It's not a meetup, just a meeting. Depending on how you look at it, I'm too busy or too boring to find time to Blog, much less Twitter.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
In a year wrought with emotional upheaval, my mother-in-law Shirley Frahm was as always a pillar of strength, and after everything I’d gone through with my own mother, I did not want to miss an opportunity to let my husband’s mother know we loved her.
So shortly after writing my Mother’s Day Blog, my children and I drove down to Raeford, North Carolina, from our home in Apex, to visit her. I had to call first, because even at age 82, Grandma Frahm had several volunteer jobs, and a work ethnic that put people half her age to shame.
This would be our last visit before she was diagnosed with lung cancer, and I am so grateful I did not put it off. It was one of those times when I was trying to gift someone else, but in hindsight the gift was mine.
Our family matriarch died at her home Sunday morning, August 17, 2008 surrounded by the love of her family.
None of us were surprised she died on a Sunday as only Heaven could prevent Grandma Frahm from attending church. The world lost a good woman, and I lost an extraordinary mother-in-law.
By some quirk of fate instead of being saddled with the Mother-in-Law from Hell, I got the Mother-in-law from Heaven.
God knows what a guilty pleasure it is to complain about a mother-in-law, and I love to complain, but the most irksome thing about my mother-in-law was she didn’t give you anything to contribute when privy to a mother-in-law bashing contest. We all adored her.
Etched in my mind is how her eyes sparkled with amusement, the first time we met, in the kitchen of her house, as all nine of her children, the grandchildren, and a few family friends, traipsed in and out of the back door, and were proudly introduced to the girl, her middle son brought home from Texas.
My niece, JJ, was just a child back then, but she had such an expression of curiosity, reassurance, and pity on her face- I knew immediately I would love her- she got that empathy from her grandmother.
By the time we sit down, to say grace I had realized my future mother-in-law didn’t raise just one outstanding child, but eight others as well. After almost 20 years of being a part of the Frahm family, I still feel that way, and that is the miracle of Shirley Frahm.
I did not grow up in North Carolina, and very few of my Southern Baptist family members got to meet my devout Catholic mother-in-law, but boy, were they curious, and in awe of the woman who sired nine children, and one of them, a man capable of loving me.
I have always told them, “She’s they type of woman who raised nine children successfully, and could have raised nine more with one hand tied behind her back.”
Despite my admiration, it was not until March 26, 1992; I truly reciprocated the depth of my mother-in-law’s love. That day I gave birth to my son Jordan, and it finally clicked how difficult it must have been to entrust someone you love so much to another woman, how heartwrenching for her, and what a gift she had given me. Could any woman ever love the man as much as I loved that precious baby boy? I doubted it.
Grandma died with her tongue in tact, but it had to have been calloused from all the times she bit it and/or held it. She had a gift for diplomacy, and the ability to be nonjudgmental which I see in my daughter, Tabitha, and an innate goodness she passed on to my husband Randy, and son Jordan.
She also bestowed upon all nine of her children her arrogant good looks. Neither she nor her children are arrogant people, but they are a proud family, and never prouder than when they are all together. It can be a bit much for anyone not related to us, and some of us who are. As one of the younger family members pointed out recently, the Uncles are much nicer than they look.
Due to his arrogant good looks, I didn’t see my future husband’s innate goodness immediately. I had a Public Relations job at a nuclear plant, in Bay City, Texas. On numerous occasions I had bumped into Randy in passing, had nodded, or said hello. He had not as much as blinked acknowledgment. (I finally understand. My epitome came while raising our son.)
Outside of work, I couldn’t help but notice him at the local beach, he had a colorful catamaran, and he, and his boat were always surrounded by at least a half-dozen bikini clad sailboat groupies, which I presumed explained his conceited behavior.
While out with friends at a local club one night, an acquaintance, asked if he could introduce me to a friend of his who would like to meet me, and pointed to Randy. The poor man received an earful of wrath. I told him in no uncertain terms not to bother, as I had seen this guy around, and found him vain, condescending, and arrogant.
I was a 28 year old working girl, and friends, colleagues, most of my family members, and I had concluded I wasn’t marriage material. I wasn’t exactly looking for love when Randy walked up, and demanded to know why I would think he was arrogant.
I had never heard him speak until that moment, and it was the deepest, sexiest voice I had ever heard, and to my surprise- because I just knew he was from up North- he had a southern accent. It was before Thanksgiving, and he explained he was on his way home, to Raeford, North Carolina. Somewhere during our conversation he went on to drawl the words that changed my opinion of him, and ultimately my destiny, when he told me he was looking forward to going home and eating a slice of “my mamma’s pecan pie.”
A simple little sentence, he doesn’t even remember took my breath away, for in it he conveyed the love, admiration, and respect he had for his mother, and I knew intuitively this man would respect me too.
It would be months before we were seriously dating and a year later before I would accompany him home to Raeford at Thanksgiving- to meet Shirley Frahm, but when anyone has ever asked me when I thought I fell in love with Randy – my mind goes back to that night, and the way he said, “my mamma’s pecan pie” and somewhere in my journals I have written this down for my children. Along with the unsolicited advice, that the best indication of a good man is his mamma.
Friday, May 09, 2008
It’s been a year filled with emotional and sometimes turbulent life changes. I’ve been every bit the Cancer-tankerous Mommy I wrote about in the book- only this time it’s not cancer or Meds- it’s just me being my mean ole self.
My husband’s career had us in Texas last summer, but before summer had ended he was on his way to Alabama, and the kids and I back to North Carolina. We’re together, we’re just not living together- we’re a commuter family. When he’s not flying to North Carolina, I’m flying to Alabama or Florida where my parents live.
Our daughter, Tabitha graduated high school mid-semester this year, and enrolled in college. I feel fortunate; somehow I’ve managed not to run her off- yet. North Carolina State where she attends college is just a short distance, and Tabitha lives at home. She is majoring in psychology and plans to be a Psychiatrist. Not a surprise-she’s already done the research- as life with her own family isn’t always easy.
Some of my friends have confessed they couldn’t wait for their kids to leave the nest- I’m not one of them. I've been advised to enjoy the moments I have now, but I haven't taken that advice. I’ve been down right bitchy about it. My husband made the mistake of attempting to make me feel better by reminding me, in two years both children would be in college, and we could easily move to wherever his career takes him. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was thinking it would be the first time we’d move without our kids. It didn’t make me happy!
I could pretend as a cancer survivor, I am exempt from such feelings, because I realize how lucky I am to have had these years- watch my children grow up, and grow old with the ones I love- but I would be lying.
I am grateful, to celebrate Mother’s Day this year, surrounded by my children, and with the knowledge my mother is still with me, but this year I got a glimpse of life without them, and was not prepared.
My mother, Amelia Patricia Solomon a.k.a. Granny Pat of Walnut Hill, Florida is alive, and while not completely well, is finally home after months in a hospital, and is recovering from a near fatal bout of Bacterial Meningitis diagnosed as Pneumococcal Meningitis.
I will not forget my mother looking at me, her only daughter, without recognition. Nor will I forget the the moment I knew she recognized me. In a year filled with heart wrenching good byes- what a relief when my mamma said hello.
My husband’s career had us in Texas last summer, but before summer had ended he was on his way to Alabama, and the kids and I back to North Carolina. We’re together, we’re just not living together- we’re a commuter family. When he’s not flying to North Carolina, I’m flying to Alabama or Florida where my parents live.
Our daughter, Tabitha graduated high school mid-semester this year, and enrolled in college. I feel fortunate; somehow I’ve managed not to run her off- yet. North Carolina State where she attends college is just a short distance, and Tabitha lives at home. She is majoring in psychology and plans to be a Psychiatrist. Not a surprise-she’s already done the research- as life with her own family isn’t always easy.
Some of my friends have confessed they couldn’t wait for their kids to leave the nest- I’m not one of them. I've been advised to enjoy the moments I have now, but I haven't taken that advice. I’ve been down right bitchy about it. My husband made the mistake of attempting to make me feel better by reminding me, in two years both children would be in college, and we could easily move to wherever his career takes him. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was thinking it would be the first time we’d move without our kids. It didn’t make me happy!
I could pretend as a cancer survivor, I am exempt from such feelings, because I realize how lucky I am to have had these years- watch my children grow up, and grow old with the ones I love- but I would be lying.
I am grateful, to celebrate Mother’s Day this year, surrounded by my children, and with the knowledge my mother is still with me, but this year I got a glimpse of life without them, and was not prepared.
My mother, Amelia Patricia Solomon a.k.a. Granny Pat of Walnut Hill, Florida is alive, and while not completely well, is finally home after months in a hospital, and is recovering from a near fatal bout of Bacterial Meningitis diagnosed as Pneumococcal Meningitis.
I will not forget my mother looking at me, her only daughter, without recognition. Nor will I forget the the moment I knew she recognized me. In a year filled with heart wrenching good byes- what a relief when my mamma said hello.
This year I said good bye to my paternal aunt, Juanita Pacetti- a best friend, confidante and on occasion surrogate mother. High School graduation meant saying good bye to my little girl; all too soon she’s become a young woman. Faced with my mother’s life threatening illness, I was forced to say good bye to my own childish self. Abruptly, my siblings, and I were required to face facts- our parents are elderly, and we are now the grown ups.
It's been a year filled with emotional and turbulent life changes. I would like to write I have handled them with dignity, grace, and courage- but the older I get the less inclined I feel to whitewash the truth.
I’ve had to say good bye to people, places, and parts of myself that can no longer exist.
Undignified, inept, and scared is how I’ve felt much of the year.
It's been a year filled with emotional and turbulent life changes. I would like to write I have handled them with dignity, grace, and courage- but the older I get the less inclined I feel to whitewash the truth.
I’ve had to say good bye to people, places, and parts of myself that can no longer exist.
Undignified, inept, and scared is how I’ve felt much of the year.
Recently my 16 year old son, Jordan told me, (after a brief outing where I sat in the passenger seat while he drove) “You’re like one of those really old people who appear to be crazy – but it’s because they’re so old. Only you do it, and you’re not even that old- YET! You’re just crazy.”
Well at least I'm not a sissy.
One of the Mother’s Day cards I purchased this year reads- Mother’s Day Is Not For Sissies.
No, it's for women like me and the one who mothered me.
Happy Mother's Day Granny Pat!
Friday, November 16, 2007
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