Kissing 2006 Good-bye

Last new year's eve- December 31, 2005, my husband and I were at a bar in our little town in Illinois. I was decidedly underdressed, as I forgot New Year's meant putting your girls out on display and picking yourself up some drunken ass. I'm sorry if I didn't think $3 pitchers were an occasion for sequins and tube tops. As the clock struck midnight, I looked into my husband's eyes and smiled, excited for all our plans for the new year. Alan had received an awesome job offer. We had signed a contract to build our first home. My job was stable and well paying. Alan was graduating this year and we would be moving to start our "real life". (At least to a place where you pay $10 a drink to wear your tube top). We were trying to get pregnant. I kissed my husband, clinked our champagne glasses and toasted to 2006- a year of change and amazing opportunities and hopefully a baby. I had tears in my eyes- tears of joy, anticipation and excitement. We toasted to "the best year of our lives." Yep, we actually said that. Might as well have put a big ol' target on our backs. Or on my tits as the case may be.

See, as I was kissing and clinking and toasting and poking fun, I had cancer. I had already had the lump looked at. Told to keep an eye on it but it wasn't anything serious. We had no idea that this beast of a disease would swoop on in and piss all over our party.

So here I am, one year later. Alan and I went to a big New Year's party. I wore a fancy dress. We were incredibly overserved. I probably drank more vodka in one night than I had had in a year. We danced. And sang along to an eighties band. And danced some more. At one point, my tipsy ass said out loud... "and to think, I had cancer this year. '

And this year, when I clock struck midnight and the balloons fell on our heads, I kissed my husband again. And I cried. We kissed this past year good-bye. A year that in so many ways was the wonderful year it was supposed to be. We were so very lucky in many ways. Except one. I asked what Alan wished for 2007. He just looked at me and said, "a healthy wife." I cried some more - for the plans for a baby that didn't happen, for the cancer that made what should have been the best year the worst, for my husband whom I loved even more than I thought possible.

And you know what. A year later, I'm still here. And that does make 2006 the best year of my life. Doesn't mean I'm not glad to see it gone.

A healthy and happy 2007 to you all.