Well Twitter this! Here it is almost Easter and I'm just now posting a Christmas photo and haven't blogged in months.

In February I celebrated 15 years of being cancer free.

I've been busy, but it appears these days you've not really done anything of importance unless you post it on line for friends, colleagues and significant strangers to read about.

Bragging, oops I meant marketing ones self has apparently gone main stream.

My pretty and hip thirty something neighbor sent me an invitation to WAYN.com, my friend, colleague and Internet provider Steve, guilted me into joining Linkedin.com, and my friend and former flight attendant colleague Debbie, told me to go to Facebook.com, where I can see all the places she's been now that's she's based in Paris, France.

Then there's Twitter- who thought of that? Had to be a man- a young, innocent and yet to be jaded by life man. "What are you doing?" What was he thinking, cause I'm thinking Twittering is going to get a lot of people in big trouble.

The problem I have with blogging is more than half the things I'd like to vent - I meant write about I can't. Well, I could but it wouldn't help book sells, win friends or make my family happy.

Oh, and just in case I get tired of sitting in the comfort of my own home, cozying up to the laptop as I Twitter other peoples lives, my friend Ellen was kind enough to yank me out of the house by inviting me to join Meetup.com, a network of local groups of any and all descriptions meeting in a location near you. All I had to do was go on line and type in my own zip code.

Tonight, if I can tear myself away from the Internet I'll be in Raleigh, NC, attending the Susan G. Komen North Carolina volunteer orientation meeting. It's not a meetup, just a meeting. Depending on how you look at it, I'm too busy or too boring to find time to Blog, much less Twitter.

In a year wrought with emotional upheaval, my mother-in-law Shirley Frahm was as always a pillar of strength, and after everything I’d gone through with my own mother, I did not want to miss an opportunity to let my husband’s mother know we loved her.

So shortly after writing my Mother’s Day Blog, my children and I drove down to Raeford, North Carolina, from our home in Apex, to visit her. I had to call first, because even at age 82, Grandma Frahm had several volunteer jobs, and a work ethnic that put people half her age to shame.

This would be our last visit before she was diagnosed with lung cancer, and I am so grateful I did not put it off. It was one of those times when I was trying to gift someone else, but in hindsight the gift was mine.

Our family matriarch died at her home Sunday morning, August 17, 2008 surrounded by the love of her family.

None of us were surprised she died on a Sunday as only Heaven could prevent Grandma Frahm from attending church. The world lost a good woman, and I lost an extraordinary mother-in-law.

By some quirk of fate instead of being saddled with the Mother-in-Law from Hell, I got the Mother-in-law from Heaven.

God knows what a guilty pleasure it is to complain about a mother-in-law, and I love to complain, but the most irksome thing about my mother-in-law was she didn’t give you anything to contribute when privy to a mother-in-law bashing contest. We all adored her.

Etched in my mind is how her eyes sparkled with amusement, the first time we met, in the kitchen of her house, as all nine of her children, the grandchildren, and a few family friends, traipsed in and out of the back door, and were proudly introduced to the girl, her middle son brought home from Texas.

My niece, JJ, was just a child back then, but she had such an expression of curiosity, reassurance, and pity on her face- I knew immediately I would love her- she got that empathy from her grandmother.

By the time we sit down, to say grace I had realized my future mother-in-law didn’t raise just one outstanding child, but eight others as well. After almost 20 years of being a part of the Frahm family, I still feel that way, and that is the miracle of Shirley Frahm.

I did not grow up in North Carolina, and very few of my Southern Baptist family members got to meet my devout Catholic mother-in-law, but boy, were they curious, and in awe of the woman who sired nine children, and one of them, a man capable of loving me.
I have always told them, “She’s they type of woman who raised nine children successfully, and could have raised nine more with one hand tied behind her back.”

Despite my admiration, it was not until March 26, 1992; I truly reciprocated the depth of my mother-in-law’s love. That day I gave birth to my son Jordan, and it finally clicked how difficult it must have been to entrust someone you love so much to another woman, how heartwrenching for her, and what a gift she had given me. Could any woman ever love the man as much as I loved that precious baby boy? I doubted it.

Grandma died with her tongue in tact, but it had to have been calloused from all the times she bit it and/or held it. She had a gift for diplomacy, and the ability to be nonjudgmental which I see in my daughter, Tabitha, and an innate goodness she passed on to my husband Randy, and son Jordan.

She also bestowed upon all nine of her children her arrogant good looks. Neither she nor her children are arrogant people, but they are a proud family, and never prouder than when they are all together. It can be a bit much for anyone not related to us, and some of us who are. As one of the younger family members pointed out recently, the Uncles are much nicer than they look.

Due to his arrogant good looks, I didn’t see my future husband’s innate goodness immediately. I had a Public Relations job at a nuclear plant, in Bay City, Texas. On numerous occasions I had bumped into Randy in passing, had nodded, or said hello. He had not as much as blinked acknowledgment. (I finally understand. My epitome came while raising our son.)

Outside of work, I couldn’t help but notice him at the local beach, he had a colorful catamaran, and he, and his boat were always surrounded by at least a half-dozen bikini clad sailboat groupies, which I presumed explained his conceited behavior.

While out with friends at a local club one night, an acquaintance, asked if he could introduce me to a friend of his who would like to meet me, and pointed to Randy. The poor man received an earful of wrath. I told him in no uncertain terms not to bother, as I had seen this guy around, and found him vain, condescending, and arrogant.

I was a 28 year old working girl, and friends, colleagues, most of my family members, and I had concluded I wasn’t marriage material. I wasn’t exactly looking for love when Randy walked up, and demanded to know why I would think he was arrogant.

I had never heard him speak until that moment, and it was the deepest, sexiest voice I had ever heard, and to my surprise- because I just knew he was from up North- he had a southern accent. It was before Thanksgiving, and he explained he was on his way home, to Raeford, North Carolina. Somewhere during our conversation he went on to drawl the words that changed my opinion of him, and ultimately my destiny, when he told me he was looking forward to going home and eating a slice of “my mamma’s pecan pie.”

A simple little sentence, he doesn’t even remember took my breath away, for in it he conveyed the love, admiration, and respect he had for his mother, and I knew intuitively this man would respect me too.

It would be months before we were seriously dating and a year later before I would accompany him home to Raeford at Thanksgiving- to meet Shirley Frahm, but when anyone has ever asked me when I thought I fell in love with Randy – my mind goes back to that night, and the way he said, “my mamma’s pecan pie” and somewhere in my journals I have written this down for my children. Along with the unsolicited advice, that the best indication of a good man is his mamma.

It’s been a year filled with emotional and sometimes turbulent life changes. I’ve been every bit the Cancer-tankerous Mommy I wrote about in the book- only this time it’s not cancer or Meds- it’s just me being my mean ole self.

My husband’s career had us in Texas last summer, but before summer had ended he was on his way to Alabama, and the kids and I back to North Carolina. We’re together, we’re just not living together- we’re a commuter family. When he’s not flying to North Carolina, I’m flying to Alabama or Florida where my parents live.

Our daughter, Tabitha graduated high school mid-semester this year, and enrolled in college. I feel fortunate; somehow I’ve managed not to run her off- yet. North Carolina State where she attends college is just a short distance, and Tabitha lives at home. She is majoring in psychology and plans to be a Psychiatrist. Not a surprise-she’s already done the research- as life with her own family isn’t always easy.

Some of my friends have confessed they couldn’t wait for their kids to leave the nest- I’m not one of them. I've been advised to enjoy the moments I have now, but I haven't taken that advice. I’ve been down right bitchy about it. My husband made the mistake of attempting to make me feel better by reminding me, in two years both children would be in college, and we could easily move to wherever his career takes him. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was thinking it would be the first time we’d move without our kids. It didn’t make me happy!

I could pretend as a cancer survivor, I am exempt from such feelings, because I realize how lucky I am to have had these years- watch my children grow up, and grow old with the ones I love- but I would be lying.

I am grateful, to celebrate Mother’s Day this year, surrounded by my children, and with the knowledge my mother is still with me, but this year I got a glimpse of life without them, and was not prepared.

My mother, Amelia Patricia Solomon a.k.a. Granny Pat of Walnut Hill, Florida is alive, and while not completely well, is finally home after months in a hospital, and is recovering from a near fatal bout of Bacterial Meningitis diagnosed as Pneumococcal Meningitis.

I will not forget my mother looking at me, her only daughter, without recognition. Nor will I forget the the moment I knew she recognized me. In a year filled with heart wrenching good byes- what a relief when my mamma said hello.

This year I said good bye to my paternal aunt, Juanita Pacetti- a best friend, confidante and on occasion surrogate mother. High School graduation meant saying good bye to my little girl; all too soon she’s become a young woman. Faced with my mother’s life threatening illness, I was forced to say good bye to my own childish self. Abruptly, my siblings, and I were required to face facts- our parents are elderly, and we are now the grown ups.

It's been a year filled with emotional and turbulent life changes. I would like to write I have handled them with dignity, grace, and courage- but the older I get the less inclined I feel to whitewash the truth.

I’ve had to say good bye to people, places, and parts of myself that can no longer exist.
Undignified, inept, and scared is how I’ve felt much of the year.

Recently my 16 year old son, Jordan told me, (after a brief outing where I sat in the passenger seat while he drove) “You’re like one of those really old people who appear to be crazy – but it’s because they’re so old. Only you do it, and you’re not even that old- YET! You’re just crazy.”

Well at least I'm not a sissy.

One of the Mother’s Day cards I purchased this year reads- Mother’s Day Is Not For Sissies.

No, it's for women like me and the one who mothered me.

Happy Mother's Day Granny Pat!

www.ebonyangelsmc.com

Tickles Tabitha, along with the Chick-Fil-A Cow, and Ebony Angels made an appearance at the Susan G. Komen Fundraiser held at Bobby Murray Chevrolet in Raleigh, North Carolina, during October/Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

I’m tickled pink to show off our Tickles Tabitha character and announce that we’re bringing Cancer Education to the classroom. Nutcracker Publishing is presenting CRACK OPEN A BOOK© the first cancer education program to be offered to elementary students.

We’re cracking open Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy; trying on wigs, playing doctor, learning about good manners, and character traits such as kindness, and courage, while discussing the issues that affect children when a parent is diagnosed with cancer.

I know many of you will be surprised to read it’s the first time cancer education has been offered to elementary students, but Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy has not always been welcomed amongst the mainstream, and certainly not in elementary school.

In 1994, when I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. talking about cancer to my own children was considered a radical idea, and talking about it to an elementary classroom was un-imaginable.

Now, Tickles Tabitha is going to school and taking her book with her.

CRACK OPEN A BOOK and the Tickles Tabitha character will also be available to health care centers, cancer awareness organization, or anyone wishing to promote cancer awareness.

I know from personal experience that creating a dialogue to talk about cancer or any issue helps alleviate anxiety and contributes to emotional and physical good health and that's what CRACK OPEN A BOOK is designed to do.

When I published Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy in October 2001, I was advised, cancer was a niche topic, young women with children didn't usually get cancer, and no parent wanted to read their children a book like that. Despite that it caught the attention of the media immediately and went on to be recognized across the country as recommended reading for families coping with cancer.

While I received invitations to talk to students about reading, writing, or the publishing process, I was never asked to talk to students about cancer.

It's only within the last few years that public perception has shifted regarding some of the often whispered issues pertaining to cancer. Public figures like “Good Morning America" anchor Robin Roberts, White House press secretary, Tony Snow, and Elizabeth Edwards, wife of Democratic presidential contender John Edwards, have drawn attention to this change of attitude.

When I approached parents in my community this year and asked if their children could participate in my focus group, and told them the topic was cancer, they didn't blink.

After having walked a step ahead of the beat for more than a decade, I'm somewhat relieved to discover the mainstream appears willing to quit whispering, stop tiptoeing and start educating our children about issues surrounding cancer.

Yesterday was Mother's Day and I awoke to find a handmade card from my daughter on the breakfast table. On the outside it said, "Happy Mother's Day" and on the inside it said, "from the child who cares! Love, Tabitha."



I laughed, I knew she'd tried to get her brother, Jordan to help her with the card and he wouldn't do it.



Jordan usually comes up with a verse then Tabitha does the artwork. My husband and I have some wonderful cards they've created. But Jordan refused to participate this Mother's Day and his sister wasn't happy about it.



She's going to make a perfect wife and mother one day- I can tell by the guilt she helped me heap on her brother! So instead of a greeting card, Jordan was guilted into giving me a foot massage. I love being a mother!



Every time I blog I vow not to wait so long to blog the next time, but like most mothers my life is busy. I'm grateful for the hectic, busy lifestyle of a woman with children. All to quickly mine have grown up.



I miss having young children and it's one reason Nutcracker Publishing Company hosts, "Hunt for a Cure" a community Easter Egg Hunt where proceeds are donated to our local Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure team. http://www.komennctriangle.org



This year when the Easter Bunny hopped down our lane, he was joined by Tickles Tabitha.



Both my children were born in the spring and at our house Easter kicks off the social season. We've been celebrating and my waistline reflects it. I've enjoyed my children's birthdays, my brother-in-law Andy's retirement ceremony from the Navy, Tabitha's and Jordan's Confirmation, our neighbor's First Holy Communion and Tabitha's Prom and of course, Jordan's getting his driver's permit.



To be honest, the last two were what I'd call stress eating events, rather than celebratory suppers, at least for me.



Did I mention my husband is on a job located in Texas and he flies in only ever 2-3 weeks?



Luckily there's a Harris Teeter down the road and when life gets tough I get chocolate.



Happy Cancer-tankerous Mommy's Day!

Time goes by so quickly. It’s busy at our house. I’ve been writing – just not Blogging. I had a group of neighbor kids over and they were my Focus Group for some of the activities I’ve incorporated into my school program curriculum. My teenagers videotaped the event and the kids were so wonderful and well behaved that I couldn’t help but think anyone watching would think it was staged. But…then one child announced that her entire family was crazy and another agreed and told us that her friend’s Daddy put crayons up his nose.

My little focus group ranged from pre-K to 4th Grade. We read my children’s book, played games, discussed cancer, and talked about how it affected families. I didn’t have to define cancer to a single child because they knew what it was and several had experienced it first hand because a family member had been diagnosed with cancer.

Yesterday, in the midst of planning Nutcracker Publishing’s 2nd Annual Easter Egg, Hunt for a Cure, I stopped to watch Democratic presidential contender, John Edwards and his wife Elizabeth’s press conference regarding her recurrence of breast cancer.

It’s been 13 years since I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and I still feel queasy when I step into any doctor’s office for a routine breast exam or blood work.

Elizabeth Edwards was candid, gracious, and handling her recurrence of breast cancer with what I know to be a Cancer-tankerous Mommy’s attitude. She’s not going to be waiting to die, but instead is hitting the rode for her husband, and campaigning with cancer.

She’s not wallowing in pity either and I know cancer survivors everywhere sighed with relief when she announced her plans to continue to campaign.

Her honesty and candor about her breast cancer has helped so many families. Like the families of the children in my focus group.

A couple of years ago, it would have been unimaginable for me to invite the neighbor kids over for a school program party with a focus on cancer, much less enter a public school and talk to elementary students about cancer. Back when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, talking about it to my own young children was not exactly encouraged, and most well meaning adults tiptoed around the issue.

Next year I'll officially introduce Crack Open a Book©, Nutcracker Publishing’s Character Education School Program and I’ll be talking to elementary students about CANCER.

Thanks to the courage of women like Elizabeth Edwards the only tiptoeing around the issue I’ll do is a Cancer-tankerous inspired game called, Tiptoe to Mama.