Transitions

I remember the days.

"How old is your baby?"

"Four days."

"Two weeks."

"Eight weeks."

"11 weeks."

"Three months."

"18 months."

"Two years."

The progression.

I always, in some ways, mourned the transition from days to weeks.  Weeks to months.  Months to years.

Mourned because time was moving so fast.  

I remember each phase of those transitions.

They were not bad.

Just signals that my babies were growing up.

I am back to the transitions again.

"How long have you been a survivor?"

"Three days."

"Two weeks and four days."

"One month."  That transition was particularly amazing.  

Because the one month anniversary of being declared cancer free was September 20th.  

Team Strong and Courageous.

Walk for the Cure day.

I am now at "two months and three days" cancer free.

These transitions bring no mourning.

 I am looking forward to making the transition to answering the questions with " one year", "two years".   Looking forward to moving from the answers being months to years.

These transitions bring amazement.

Amazement about how much can happen in a few short months.

One year ago, exactly, I participated in Breast Cancer Awareness activities at work.  

I had no idea that three weeks later, I would find a lump in my breast and begin the odyssey of breast cancer treatment.

Those months brought transition from regular, normal, stable to indescribable upset.

These months bring transition from that upset back to normal, stable, and regular.

Survivor.

Cancer Free.

Two months.

Three days.