At the start of last summer, I celebrated surviving my expiration date. I was suddenly the cancer girl that lived. I was off chemotherapy and I appeared to be thriving. But I was secretly scared that my apparent remission was just a fluke and I would start to slide into cancer decline.
I vowed to make summer 2017 one to remember. If this was going to be my last hurrah, I would give my son a summer full of memories. Alternatively, if I continued to thrive, well then, we had the makings of a beautiful photo album.
I always thought my last hurrah would be some fabulous trip to India or Thailand, but I found myself just craving sweet everyday moments. A private joke between the three of us, giggles under the moonlight, or the smell of the forest floor when we stepped on newly fallen pine needles.
Instead of putting our son in an all-day summer camp as I had every year before so I could work, I decided to do ‘mommy day camp’. Every day we chose a new local adventure: Parks, libraries, museums, zoos, backyard picnics, mud festivals, lakes, and beaches.