Jennifer in Luxembourg

Another Christmas season is speedily passing by. And with it, the weight of reminder of twelve years ago and relapse.  This quarter, I've been thinking a lot about my relapse. I don't know what my first cancer would have done to my body. Sure, it ravaged it: i was bald, tired, and facing cardiac challenges. But it was my second cancer that was the final nail in the coffin: cementing ovarian failure, type 1 diabetes, chronic pain and the surgery that paralyzed my phrenic nerve, leaving me with permanent lung damage.  Maybe life would have been just as complicated after my first cancer, but I'll never know. It's the second one that I do know about, and that I deal with daily.  I realized this week, that the after effects of cancer affect even my thoughts about my family. My brother, visiting on his winter break after a rough semester of college, slept for 16 hours straight, twice. The terror in my heart trying to wake him, as I recall the semester I slept every weekend aw...

Sometimes the weight of doing everything by myself all day every day can become very very very very heavy. Some things don't take a long time, it's just the tediousness of one additional item to balance. Amazon was making life a bit simpler, as a few clicks obtained the small things I'd normally pop into a Walmart for, but recently I've been the target of the cardboard police in the apartment building, so I'm trying to limit my purchases so I don't continue to get harassed. So there have been some longer days as I make a midweek trip to the store to add a few things that the Saturday morning grocery haul may not be equipped to handle.  I've been here 9 months, but there are still administrative things to be done. I finally managed an appointment next week with a doctor that can hopefully help with an insulin pump. This after I travelled for 2 hours to see an endocrinologist I really like, and get new insulin prescriptions, but found out that he cannot help w...

* from when I first moved to Luxembourg * Friends are a funny thing. You always feel so close and deep in the moment, but the reality is tested once you are far apart. Who is going to show up for you. Mail you things, text you, check in? Who is going to share their strength and courage when you have none? Who is going to continue to drain from you, without any thought to refill you? It’s always surprising the friends you loose, the ones who can’t be trusted to make the effort for you. Because it’s never who you’d expect. The kindred sprits you once fellowshipped with toss you aside, when you’re not there in person. Maybe the used me for my generous spirit- Jen always had food and shelter. Perhaps they tossed me when they realized I would no longer sit idly by while they perched atop their morality, mocking at my loved ones. Perhaps I just get pushed into a cobwebbed corner of their brain once I'm not in their daily life.  I get it. Out of sight, out of mind.  And the unexp...

It's 730pm, and my last guest just departed. And my heart is full, spilling onto this keyboard.  Recent Sundays, I've begun inviting a new friend who recently moved to Luxembourg over for lunch. Lunch isn't fancy- typically a hastily thrown together pasta, and random accouterments from the fridge. But today I decided to be a bit more formal, and actually thought about food. I also wanted to get some Christmas decorations set-up so I invited a few more friends. I made a roasted carrot vegan soup, as well as a bean and pork soup. One friend brought bread, another a delicious cake, and a third a backpack full of clementines. We enjoyed the lunch together, then split into various groups. Two sat chatting at the dinner table, two were unpacking my Christmas decor, and I turned on Michael Bublé for my one friend who always does the dishes and cleans the kitchen. He also made sure to sweep the kitchen and scrubbed away at a few stubborn pans. The noise of the house brought so much...

A collection of thoughts, beginning last weekend on the Thanksgiving week festivities.  This weekend I began prepping for thanksgiving. I always dreamed of hosting Thanksgiving in my house. Planning the menu, shopping, cooking, decorating and welcoming a houseful. This dream always included at least some of my family though reality will not.  Every year my dad consults on the menu with me as he scribbles it on an index card. The back will contain some of the specialty ingredients I ask for like Karo dark corn syrup or canned fruit cocktail. Yesterday, I sat quietly at my desk listing out the menu in silence before the ingredients on the opposite side.  I often listen to books or talk on the phone while cooking, but yesterday I cut a giant loaf of break, 4 buns and a few slices into cubes for stuffing in silence. The silence was deafening. I recall baking pies with David sharing an AirPod so we could listen to the same playlist. My dad always blares music while he cook...