Thirteen years

Today is the thirteen year anniversary of my diagnosis. I keep on living and continue to stay in remission. Hurrah!

That needs to be acknowledged, but this anniversary no longer has the same impact as year two, or five or ten – that one really did feel momentous! But it seems completely appropriate now for my focus to be more on day-to-day and year-to-year activities and plans, than on survival. The reality is that I’ve survived long enough to not be constantly thinking about it.

As mentioned in last year’s anniversary post however, I do continue wondering about purpose and meaning. Mostly though, I go about living, keeping myself and Koko (my dog) alive and well enough to do what I can to make the world a better place.

On that score, I have just returned from Calais, where I’ve spent the last six weeks as a volunteer, cooking at a kitchen that serves hot, nutritious food to a large ‘community’ of people on the move, from a variety of countries, fleeing a variety of horrors that nobody should have to face, leaving family and the familiarity of home, hoping to find refuge in the UK. As a descendant of refugees myself, it feels important to show solidarity.

I had no particular plans to celebrate today. In fact, it could easily have passed me by, as I’ve been more focused on travelling, getting home and visiting family and friends en route.

However, visiting my aunt today, I was treated to a delicious dim sum lunch. We mentioned the anniversary, almost in passing. Less of a celebration; more just doing fairly ordinary things with people we love. Surely that is actually a perfect embodiment of long term survival…?