Getting to the part of moving forward after cancer

It bothered me that last week's letter probably didn't focus on the purpose of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Then it dawned on me that what I wrote confirmed the following:

—There is no routine breast cancer, as the big billboard near the OSU hospitals said back in 2011.

—Because I was faithful to always get my annual mammogram, my breast cancer was caught early.

—Because I acted immediately upon receiving the abnormal results of my mammogram and put my trust in the doctors at OSU, where our daughter paved the way for me, I had good results that, in my case, meant no chemotherapy and no radiation treatments.

On Sunday morning, Oct. 12, 2025, the last hymn we sang at church was "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." I got through the first two verses OK, but tears started flowing on the third verse. That's because this was the hymn I sang every day we were at our camp in Maine in summer 2011.

Because there's "the best part" yet to be typed, my telling you about the good things that happened in Maine that summer will be shortened as much as possible.

When we finally arrived at our camp, two neighbors met us and helped carry our things up three steps into our "tiny house" camp. Their names were Mary Chase and Janet Smith. Mary and Tom's camp was two places north of ours. Janet and Rich's camp was three places south of us. These were four people who God put into our lives when we needed them. Mary and Tom moved to Sedona, Arizona several years ago. Two or three years ago, Janet and Rich decided to sell their cottage and live permanently in Sarasota, Florida.

Here's a couple paragraphs about what Mary Chase did for me. In summer 2011 my 50th high school class reunion was held. Mary took me to an upscale consignment shop in Damariscotta, where we shopped for a special dress for me to wear to my reunion. While Mary was looking through racks in the main room, I found a lavender, slightly slinky dress in a smaller room. It was calling to me, and I bought it. Mary found a lavender jacket that went with another dress and got the shop owner to call the person who owned the outfit to agree to sell me the jacket, which went beautifully with the sleeveless dress I chose.

Mary told me about ordering silver sandals with a small heel to go with the dress and to wear for the Friday night informal gathering at the American Legion Hall. Mary painted my toenails turquoise for Friday night to match the outfit I wore of white pants, a white top and a turquoise sweater with tiny sparkly dragonflies, which Mum gave me. Mary loaned me a small silver clutch bag.

On the Saturday, I went to Mary and Tom's cottage to get dressed for the reunion celebration at Le Club Calumet. Then Glenn came to get me, just like we were going on a big date. We stopped at Mum's on the way so she could see how we looked and have our picture taken in front of the Macomber, Farr & Whitten wall calendar inside the kitchen door.

My two classmates since second and seventh grade at Farrington Elementary School across the road from my parents’ house, Connie and Carole, said I was the "belle of the ball." Connie told me that if she ever developed breast cancer, she was coming to Ohio and having Elizabeth direct her care.

Part of my healing that summer of 2011 involved singing "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" every day. It also involved just sitting by the pond and relaxing. However, that was usually when Cooper, a Yellow Lab who lived across the road whose name was pronounced "Coopah," came down with his Frisbee and dropped it at my feet, asking me to throw it out onto the pond for him to retrieve. Why else was I there? Then he would go swim-swim-swim, chomp, swim-swim-swim, drop it and shake himself.

Back in Ohio that year, Glenn's cousin told me about a blog called "Caring Bridge," which I often used to communicate with family and friends. One person who helped me a lot during my journey to recovery was Chuck Snyder. Of all the thousands of people he knows all over the country, he said he loved me and was praying for me.

I learned after the fact that there were three gals who worked for Drs. Dunlap and Laaper, our dentists, who, when they walked for the Susan B. Koman Race for the Cure in Columbus, had my name printed on the card they wore on their backs.

My cancer surgeon was Dr. Lisa Yee. She's in California now, but we still write to each other occasionally. Her nurse Maria gave me a special tote bag that had a pink, green and blue small quilt, made by The James Stitching Sisters, which is still used when taking naps. Dr. Tiwari, my plastic surgeon, at one of my future checkups, gave me a sparkly red and rhinestone bracelet to wear with the red dress Elizabeth bought for me to wear at our 50th wedding anniversary.