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Saturday, April 12, 2014

Bellydance tomorrow, Redwood City.

I am going to make a decision to have fun tomorrow at my gig with my bellydance troupe, Dancers of the Crescent Moon.  I remember how nice it was to have a friendly beloved face in the audience before, but I will find people to smile at in the audience....maybe someone who looks as if she might like to dance but is hesitant.

Crying after my new writing group today...the camaraderie lovely, such wise and mature young people, but when I go home, memories wander in and I let myself grieve tonight as I get tomorrow's costume ready.

CG asks why I still cry over someone whose actions so badly compromised my physical and emotional health and every good thing about myself that I believed in.  I think I had to push the grief, shock, and anger aside very hard to survive my first month of chemo and now am working on the grief, intense as a sudden death. CG, who has known me for twelve years, said that he knew I was closest to dying in early December.  He is also right about another thing: my body is strong and will come back. Last night my dancing self remembered the way to jump into an airborne spin time after time. I will come back from all this, better and stronger.

Here, by the way, are the jewelry pieces I wear.  I say a silent prayer of gratitude when I put these on; many are authentic pieces, more precious to me because of the women in Afghanistan and Morocco to whom these belonged.  I will wear these tomorrow in thanks and in unity: