There was a little girl

A long time ago, in a land far, far away (a magical nation of poutine, ice hockey and toques) I was a little girl who occasinally became sick. And when I was sick, if I really was sick, my mom would make chicken soup, and my dad would bring gingerale, and they’d say while stroking my forehead, “It’s no fun being sick, eh kid?”

And those few words, whether I was nauseous or feverish or sniffing with a cold – they always made me feel a little bit better.

Just like now. My mom is here, and she’s making me meals, bringing me supplements, and pushing me to exercise. She hasn’t said it’s no fun being sick, kid (that was my dad’s thing) – but she’s told me it is okay to be angry, and okay to be sore, and okay not to be okay all the time.

And that makes me feel a little bit better. Actually, it makes me feel a whole lot better.

So FYI Mom – your help has been invaluable. INVALUABLE.  And FYI Dad – your treatments are really helping, really, really. I’ve been able to cope with so much more after working with you both.

And while there is more to say, and more that’s gone on, these two deserve a post of their own.

Thanks Mom and Dad.