Last month, I received the devastating news that I have Stage 4 uterine leiomyosarcoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer. My doctors have informed me that I may only have a few months left to live, as the disease is advanced and incurable. This prognosis has left me feeling shocked, sad, angry, and confused. Some days, I wake up furious at the universe, betrayed by my own body, and mourning the years and milestones I had hoped to experience with my family.
Leaving behind a husband I deeply adore, a 14-year-old daughter who brings me immense joy, and a career in writing and teaching that I’ve worked tirelessly to build is heart-wrenching. However, amidst the horror of my circumstances, I’ve come to a surprising realization: I have no regrets about the way I’ve lived my life.
During my teenage years, I fell head over heels for a boy who repeatedly broke my heart. It was an obsessive and tumultuous first crush that consumed me. Even after high school, I couldn’t shake the memories of our on-again, off-again relationship. Sadly, he tragically took his own life at the age of 21. Although his death was devastating, my turbulent experience with him taught me what I truly desired in love: safety, support, fun, and adventure.
A few years later, I met my future husband, Dan. He was intelligent, bookish, funny, and kind. His love for me has been unwavering and constant. He’s always been my biggest supporter and has never hesitated to prioritize my career. For 25 years, we’ve remained together without any breakups or separations.
Despite being discouraged by others who claimed that writing couldn’t be a sustainable career, I refused to settle for a traditional 9-to-5 job. The thought of waking up each day for a mundane office routine under fluorescent lights left me feeling suffocated. Instead, I opted to take charge of my life and pursue my passion for writing.
When I expressed my desire to write a book about the history of ice cream in America, many scoffed at the idea. But I didn’t let their doubts deter me. Instead, I secured a contract with Penguin Random House and embarked on a journey across the country, indulging in ice cream, conducting research, and interviewing notable figures in the industry. The publication of “Sweet Spot: An Ice Cream Binge Through America” opened unexpected doors, including opportunities to appear on NPR and teach creative nonfiction writing.
In recent years, I’ve had the privilege of mentoring and coaching numerous aspiring writers. Their enthusiasm and determination have reignited my own passion for writing, reminding me of my initial motivations for entering this field.
Rather than having a bucket list, I’ve always embraced the impulse to seize the moment. Even when faced with impractical decisions, I’ve followed the voice urging me to go out and experience life. A few years ago, my family and I impulsively embarked on a 600-mile journey to a goat farm in central Oregon to witness a solar eclipse. We camped there for four days, cherishing the remarkable spectacle. On another occasion, I spontaneously flew to Germany with only two days’ notice, spending a week exploring Dresden and hiking through the Black Forest.
Throughout these adventures, I’ve held onto the belief that money is replaceable, but missed experiences are irretrievable. This mantra has guided my choices, even when our bank account was depleted. It led us to move to New York City to pursue our writing dreams, despite the initial challenges. Through sheer determination, we made it work, refusing to settle for anything less.
While I’ve always been mindful of saving money, traditional markers of financial success such as retirement accounts never held much importance for me. Given the choice between investing in a 401(k) and taking my family on a trip to Kauai, I’ve always opted for the latter. Creating lasting memories with my loved ones has always taken precedence.
In my personal relationships, I’ve always been unapologetically myself. I don’t hide who I am or try to conform to others’ expectations. Admittedly, I may have unintentionally hurt some individuals by declining social invitations or leaving parties early due to my introverted tendencies. However, I believe it’s more vital to surround myself with people who truly understand and accept me, rather than those who wish to change me. By avoiding individuals with unreasonable expectations, I’ve forged genuine friendships built on authenticity. Since my diagnosis, I’ve had the privilege of expressing my love to my friends, who have reciprocated these feelings. Their support and love have been immensely meaningful to me.
Living in close proximity to the redwoods and ocean has been a source of immense joy. Until recently, I regularly embarked on four-mile walks along the picturesque coastline of West Cliff Drive, witnessing surfers, otters, and even humpback whales. These experiences have become an integral part of my daily routine.
However, there is a downside to living in such a breathtaking location—the exorbitant cost of living. My family and I reside in one of the most unaffordable places in America. While my husband and I have discussed the possibility of relocating, the strong bond we share with our friends and the writing community in Santa Cruz, as well as our daughter’s happiness, has made us hesitant to uproot our lives. Although homeownership is unlikely for us in the foreseeable future, I take solace in the fact that I am surrounded by loved ones who offer unwavering support and bring meals when needed. I know they will continue to show up for my husband and daughter long after I’m gone.
Facing the end of my life far sooner than I anticipated and grappling with the challenging realities of my diagnosis is undoubtedly difficult. Nonetheless, I’ve come to understand that life is a collection of moments, and I am determined to savor each remaining one. Whether it’s enjoying the beauty of nature, cherishing time with my family and friends, or indulging in my writing, I will embrace these moments to the fullest. Fortunately, this has always been my approach to life.
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