April 25, 2011

Life's Private Parts (the PG-13 kind)

Dear Mom,

I have a blogging buddy who practically lives a double life. She drives herself to chemo treatments, writes under an alias, and even her own roommates don't know she has cancer. I never understood this-- how could she not want the support? How could she keep such a huge part of her life to herself?

Well, now I know.

Like I told you last week, I started a new job a few weeks ago. I've lost track of how many times your death could have easily slipped into a conversation with various new co-workers, but each time, I've stopped myself. But why? I miss you; I miss calling you on my drive home to tell you about my day; I miss making new memories together; I miss feeling complete. But what I don't miss, is the way someone looks at me when I tell them my mom is dead; the instant frown; the pity behind their eyes; the sympathy in their voice. I will never miss that because I shouldn't even know what that looks like in the first place.

So, I get it. I completely understand why my friend doesn't walk around airing her personal life to anyone who will listen. It's refreshing to just blend in for a change and to not be the girl that makes people realize their lives aren't that bad in comparison. Especially since my last place of employment sucked the energy and happiness right out of me on a daily basis, it's nice that I'm now somewhere where I can just keep it light. I'll save the serious stuff for those who help get me through it... after all, you aren't supposed to share your private parts with just anyone, right?



  1. Sami, even for the 'case hardened,' which is the way a nephew describes me, I no longer discuss my health related issues unless asked specifically.
    May your new job be all that you hope it to be. I am so glad to be back on these pages.

  2. You're wonderful. Thank you so much for your continued support and all that you do. You are something special, love. Thank you for understanding me... I've said that is one of my favorite feelings in the whole world. Knowing someone else gets it is huge. Maybe some day I will open up and come to terms with everyone around, me but having you as a part of my terrific support group means more than anything.

  3. Sami, congratulations on your new job. That's exciting! Enjoy it for what it is. Enjoy the work, enjoy meeting new people and someday when the time is right, you'll share your story. It's okay that they don't know right now. Everyone has something in their life. There are still quite a few people in my life, that don't know I what I went through. It doesn't always need to be front and center. Good luck with your job!

  4. i had a cancer chat friend who did the same thing.. and it boggled my mind.. it is so sad that people can't give support with out pity.. the best people i turn to when i am sad want to hear stories about my dad.. want to laugh with me.. not pat my shoulder and frown... i get it.. i do

  5. Sami - I just read some of your blog - first - I am so sorry for your loss - and second thank you for doing this - I have ovarian cancer stage 4 and have 5 daughters ages 12, 15, 16, 19 and 21. reading your blog has given me some peace.

  6. Wow, I cannot imagine getting through my cancer ordeal without talking about it. I think I would have exploded. What a sad thing to feel stifled. I do know of what you speak, though, and when my mom died some of my friends had a hard time hearing me talk about my feelings. Glad your new job isn't sucking the life out of you!

  7. Sami, What a great post. On the one hand, I'm thrilled about your new job and for the fact your are keeping things light as you said. On the other, it's kind of sad you feel you must keep parts of your life under wraps. Hopefully with time there will be a few people there you can share the real you with because the real you is pretty darn great! Good luck with all of it!