Tag Archives: getting a divorce with terminal cancer

The thin place and All Hallows Eve

When did it become so….tacky?

The Halloween of my youth was a rather simple affair. Carved pumpkins, homemade costumes, trick or treating in our neighborhood.

Now there are entire stores stocked with manufactured costumes and an endless variety of plastic decorations. Every time I step out my front door, I am cackled at by a dreadful motion activated witch compliments of the woman upstairs (who also happens to be my landlord, so no use complaining).

The neighborhood I live in, a place of century old homes and tidy yards, has been transformed as well. Fake tombstones, ratty strands of cobwebs, life size skeletons sitting on chairs, some dressed in actual clothing, others drinking a beer or holding an empty wine glass. Plastic, all of it. Including the styrofoam pumpkins–no carving necessary.

Halloween is big business now, with the National Retail Federation estimating that Americans will shell out $8.8 billion dollars on costumes, decorations and candy this year. Yes, I did say billion.

It’s a staggering statistic. Imagine all the good that could be done with that money were it devoted to–just saying–cancer research.

Kill joy, aren’t I. It is absolutely true that I err on the side of pragmatism. Also, as someone who is in that liminal place, I find the focus on the morbid rather fascinating. I suppose that making death into a joke of sorts can take away some of the sting. However, my relationship to dying is both more intimate and more respectful. Ghoulish decorations are a reminder that for most people, death is in the distance. Something to be dealt with later.

So anyway. Wouldn’t it be great if next year everyone agreed to make their own costume? Forgo the hideous decorations. Carve a real pumpkin. And donate all the money saved to something worthwhile. Something for the living. Like cancer research 🙂

xo

Some self reflection and personal transparency

Self portrait in the ladie's room at Western Avenue Studios

Self portrait in the ladie’s room at Western Avenue Studios

I am in the midst of another break from packing; making the rounds of my gracious friend’s homes (thank you, thank you, thank you all). This has been a time to visit but also to decompress—and I’ve done just that, taking two naps in one day.

Despite my upbeat and can do attitude (at least I think that’s the tone I’m setting), I will acknowledge that this may well be the most difficult task I’ve undertaken yet. Disassembling a marriage is complicated no matter the circumstances; getting divorced while also battling cancer is crazy hard.

I am, on so many levels, stepping out into the complete unknown now. It has been years since I have been gainfully employed and financially, I am a persona non grata. Had a good friend not offered to cosign, I would not have qualified for my lease. Losing my independence was never meant to be part of marriage and yet somehow I let that happen.

I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge how anxious this all makes me, but I keep moving forward in the faith that better times are ahead. I am thankful for not only the support of friends and family but also the timing: were Peter not boarding, the separation of households would be so much more difficult. And as it turns out, I am glad I didn’t qualify for the PD-1 clinical trial and that by default, extended my break from treatment. Otherwise, I don’t believe I’d be able to manage, either physically or emotionally.

As it is, I am rather proud of what I have accomplished. It took some frenzied research (and a bit of luck) but my future home (and of course, Peter’s) really is promising. I just about nailed the amount of rent I felt I could afford and by relocating south will remain a reasonable distance from Peter’s school and yet move significantly closer to Boston and Mass General Hospital. The lofts have onsite laundry facilities, are close to a commuter rail, parking is free, heat and air conditioning included and I won’t have to worry about shoveling snow.

As a plus, Lowell has a thriving cultural scene (did you know Jack Kerouac was born in Lowell?) and I am moving into not just an apartment, but a community. The day I signed the lease, my neighbor across the hall invited Sadie and I (along for the ride) into her loft. I think making new friends is going to be a cinch.

And there is some entrepreneurial potential as well, as open studios happen once a month. The wall outside the apartment is mine to use as gallery space and–I’ve been hatching this plan for a year now–I will also have the opportunity to sell vintage clothing (which I’ve been busy amassing) alongside my art at open studios. Woohoo!

securedownload-1So that’s a bit more of the fun stuff. Of course, in prelude to moving in, I’ve been packing up. I have singlehandedly transported carload after carload of boxes to a storage unit. And I’ve lined up a small band of merry movers (again, a preemptive thank you!) and will rent a truck to haul the furniture and boxes come December 1. And then I’ll move the vintage stuff into the storage unit.

I’ve also been working on the health insurance piece; worst and best case scenario. It is of utmost importance to me that I keep the same providers.

So, that’s a bit of an update. Tomorrow I move from one household to another…stages in a journey.

A space similar to the one I'll be moving into....

A space similar to the one I’ll be moving into….