All Things Seem Possible

This has been a dear, sweet Christmas I will cherish forever. I miss my Mama and my dear, love Aunt Joyce so much. They made my childhood Christmases growing up so very special and I cherish them. But I am thankful to be cozy at Jon's home with his beloved family! I am blessed to have him and his family in my life.

 

This morning I woke up and the very first thought that popped into my head was that "all things seem possible." Amen.

 

God Bless, 

Robyn

 

Merry Christmas

We wish you all a very Merry Christmas and Happy, Healthy New Year! Signing off for a few days - attempting to disconnect a little - and take time to reflect on the past year. The many blessings we have been given, the incredible, dear people who have stayed by our side through difficult times, and the miracle of life and love. Sending our blessings and love to friends and family all over the world!

Love, 

Jon, Robyn, & Harper

Feeling Feelings Late at Night

I have had an incredible Sunday, Monday and most of Tuesday this week. I realized after my last blog post how great I felt. I was so relieved to get some of those thoughts and feelings out by writing. It didn't even matter how many people read it, although many did. Thank you. But, it just felt so good to have those words pour out of me. To have a place for them. I have been really happy since. Lighter. Laughing more. Actually relaxing. The C word stayed away from my brain for hours on end. Until tonight. We were just sitting on the couch watching TV after dinner. Jon was falling asleep. My brain turned on and began churning all those dreaded thoughts about cancer, treatments, what ifs, oh no's, etc. That's how it works, my friends. It sneaks up on you. Jon went to bed and I stayed up. I'm restless and I hate it when the world comes into sharp focus late at night. Now I'm searching the internet for...I don't even know what. Comfort? Answers? Compassion? Companionship? It's funny how a search engine can transport you from one thing to another. I thought maybe writing a post would again make me feel better. So, here I am. With no certain intent. I thought I'd share what I came upon in my searching...

A Short Film: I love Marcel the Shell

Another Blog: My Husband's Tumor

Nora and Aaron Purmort and their baby Ralphie. I recently found her blog. Aaron passed on from a brain tumor this month. Another young couple, both artists, facing cancer. Nora is a beautiful writer. I feel her pain and sorrow. I wish I could give her a hug. No, this probably isn't the healthiest thing for me to be reading. Especially at midnight. But I love them. And I don't even know them. I love how she stresses that theirs is a big love story with a little bit of cancer. They never let cancer consume or define them. She loves him. Cancer nor death can tarnish that love. Even after multiple treatments and chemotherapies, they chose to try for a baby and were successful. She writes about how not just any love can handle the stress of cancer and I relate to it so much and it makes me feel better. I love her will to keep on keeping on. In his obituary, which he wrote, Aaron revealed his true identity: Spiderman. Perhaps you heard about it. Read more about them here: http://myhusbandstumor.com

Music: Interpol - Evil

TV: Really Good Stories

Granny Zola called daytime soap operas her stories. We just started watching two really great stories and I'm excited to see them unfold. True Detectives is highly acclaimed and we're a little late hopping on the bandwagon. McConaughey's character is both mysterious and vulnerable. It's a good murder mystery that seems to move fast. This fall Jon introduced me to Twin Peaks for the first time and I loved it, so TD reminds me of that. We also began watching Transparent. The pilot may be the best I've ever seen. Watching it, I feel both love and hate, enjoying it so much but also wishing I were the creator. All the characters are really lost and messed up, which makes me like it even more. I can relate. I don't know about you, but I love a good television show. In my next quarter at SCAD, I may get the opportunity to pitch a TV show to some studio execs. I'm really excited about this. I have two that I'd love to create. Jon and I have written a pilot inspired by our college years and growing up/falling in love in art school. And I have written a sitcom pilot inspired by my time working at a veterinarian's office. I think it's really funny. So, we'll see what happens...

Movies: Tis the Season...for an Oscar Race

We've seen many good films recently. Birdman, The Better Angels, Top 5, The Homesman, and more. Here are two that I'm really looking forward to. Wild because I read the book, it broke my heart, and made me roar. If you are not familiar with Cheryl Strayed's story, take some time to look her up. She is bold. And the trailer for Selma is one of the best I have ever seen. The music choice is strong and makes me want to stand up. The topic, taken from a moment in history, is especially relevant today. And the director is an African American female. This is rare in Hollywood and in the film biz in general. I'm also following the Sony hacking because I find it all very amusing. Anyone else?

Nirvana

Jon went to bed early tonight because he literally stayed up all night last night working on his movie. I had a terrible nights sleep without him by my side. But I understand and love it when he stays up working. I wake up often and tip toe into the hallway to spy on my little night owl editing away. You already know this, but I love him so much!

Favorite Book I want to re-read soon: Wuthering Heights

Memories

We had the best group of friends in college. I won't tell you too much because we're going to write a TV show all about it. But to sum it up, Jon and I fell in love with each other and became best friends amongst a slightly larger group of friends who were simply the best. We all grew very close as we spent our weekends making movies and hanging out. We even moved into the same dorm building, with the girls living in one dorm and the guys in another. It felt so cool to say things like, "What are the guys up to?" or "Let's go see the guys." They lived one floor above us. Our group of friends in college was like the group of friends you see on TV, in shows like Friends or Dawson's Creek, and you think, "I want that!" I'm so glad we had it. I can close my eyes and time travel back to these days and smile from ear to ear. Here's a photo of our little gang. I love them all so much. If we had a mega DVD box set of our series, this photo would be on the cover: 

Wow. This photo was uploaded to Facebook on December 18, 2006. Eight years to the date, tomorrow. I cringed as I typed that. Time goes by too fast. Good thing I have the ability to time travel. I love these people so much, have I already said that? Natalie (I think you can figure out which one she is) is one of the best souls I have ever met. We reconnected a few years after college and have stayed in touch. She definitely stepped up when Jon was diagnosed. She was one of a handful of friends who stood by me during that really difficult period. Our relationship may be long distance, but I always know I can count on her. She and Andy (the red head to her left who is also a genius and was featured on the Rosie O'Donnell talk show at a young age) are now married and they came to visit us soon after Jon was diagnosed. I remember her saying over the phone, "If it's cancer, we're coming." How amazing of her??? I cry thinking about it. She is a super talented editor who will soon own Hollywood and make right all the wrongs done by Sony. 

The bright smile in the red vest is Doug. Doug introduced me and Jon and I am forever in his debt. My father's first wife (and mother of my half-sister) knew her Pastor's son attended SCAD. Ha! It sounds like a farce. My father's ex-wife's pastor's son's best friend's uncle's great grandmother, etc! Doug and I met in Sylvester, GA at the Bistro (remember the Bistro?) and he agreed to check in on me at school. He did drop by. Unexpected. A knock on my door, just a few days after I moved to Savannah. I was in my pajamas, hair a mess, retainer in place. I held a box of tissues in my hand because I got into the habit of crying myself to sleep. I was very close to calling it quits and going back home. But then I opened the door to find that ever so handsome man you see in the photo wearing the blue beanie cap, glasses and grey sweater. #Dreamy. When I think of the crazy web that was spun for us to meet each other, I stand back amazed. In awe of how this world can work miracles. 

I guess that's enough rambling for now. I'm still wide awake, but I think I'll make some tea and watch an episode of Gilmore Girls. 

Goodnight.

Love,

Robyn

Baby in the Corner

In 1987, the world gave you me and Dirty Dancing. 

You're welcome.

I have seen Dirty Dancing maybe one million times. Seriously. One of my first conscious memories ever was of watching Patrick Swayze gyrating on our gigantic box-shaped television screen in the living room of our tiny double wide trailer in the middle of a peanut field. I'm pretty sure it was before I could talk. You see, my mother loved Patrick Swayze. Every woman in the late eighties loved Patrick Swayze, but I'm pretty sure my mother thought she was going to find him and marry him. I remember watching DD with my teenage niece April who would spend the weekend with us, possibly just to watch DD in rotation, because that's how we rolled at our house! Dirty Dancing. 24/7. (Yes, she was my niece because I was born an Aunt and am now a Great-Aunt, it's a long story for another blog!)

My mother never really censored me - and I'm grateful for this although I don't believe all children should grow up like this. It worked for us. Her idea of censoring me was asking me to go to the kitchen during the hot pottery scene in Ghost, where I preceded to watch from the hidden corner. When it was over, I was allowed to come back in and we'd watch together, you know, like every mother and four year old do. These were special times. 

When Johnny says "Nobody puts Baby in a corner," I knew at that young age that I wanted a love like that. A man who would defy expectations and the father's law for the woman he loved. I would force my cousins to catch me in the air and spin me around, my arms open elegantly. Just like Baby, I could fly! From Dirty Dancing, I learned how to cha cha cha, that this is my dance space and that is yours, to never look down, and how to call my lover boy, (a scene I would recreate alone in my bedroom up until I was much too old to discuss). As I've gotten older, the allure of Dirty Dancing has never lost its touch. I can still watch it on repeat. 

I always wanted that kind of passionate love shared by Johnny and Baby. Jon and I don't take to too many staged camp recitals these days, but we dance often in our apartment. Please do not let his shy demeanor fool you, he has moves and is quite a dancer! What I never thought I'd want is to get married and have a baby. After sitting through numerous therapy sessions, I think all along I yearned to get married and have the traditional American family. Mother, Father, One Girl, One Boy. Baby was in the corner, but I tried to fool myself out of this growing up. I wasn't raised in a traditional family, but by a single mother. I rejoiced in school when teachers reminded us that families came in all different shapes and sizes. For a long time, I convinced myself that no one really had a "father" because God the Heavenly Father was actually our true father and the dads on the playground were actually stand ins. Does this make any sense? I was a weird kid. I blame it on HBO.

Anyway, the idea of having a baby never crossed my mind. I didn't play with baby dolls or barbies. Obviously, I was too busy watching DD, but I remember my Aunt Joyce snickering that I'd change my mind. I'd shout "ew" and run off to memorize my index of dog breeds - we've already established I was weird! The idea of being a mother was not appealing. That is, until I went to Hibachi with my high school boyfriend. I was innocently sitting there, minding my own business, waiting for the onion volcano, when a five year old stranger sat next to me. The catch was that she kind of looked like me. She had dark brown eyes and bangs. We started talking about The Little Mermaid. I imagined that the three of us were a family. That was the moment I was bitten by the bug and Baby was officially out of the corner of my mind. 

When I met Jon, I knew immediately that I wanted to have his child. He was this special creature and I spent hours thinking about what he was like as a baby and how I wanted one. Y'all, women are creepy! A friend told me recently that she was around my age when her ovaries began aching when she caught sight of a child. I get it. Women who are meant to be mothers, and not all women are, but those who are begin feeling this yearning. I think about it. I dream about it. I roll my eyes at all the cutesy baby photos on facebook, pretend to vomit, and then secretly cry on the inside because I want one. It is crazy to think my best friend for life has two and countless others whom I graduated with also have multiples!

With all that is our life, we don't know that we can have children. If cancer wasn't a part of our life, we certainly wouldn't think about it happening for another good five years. But since that is not our life, I worry that we may miss our chance or may have already missed our chance. I know I'm certifiable when I sit around wishing I had accidentally gotten pregnant at 18 when we first met and equally crazy when I try to convince myself having a dog is the same thing. Please don't tell my Harper Grace, but I know deep down it's not. I'm not afraid of adoption, but I would like to at least try for our own. A doctor told me not to give up on the idea, so that provided a great big bright light of hope. Our future is so uncertain. Sometimes I think I'm crazy for wanting to bring a child into this. But then I think of all the love my mother gave me and how I want to pass that down. I think about how I want to watch Dirty Dancing with a toddler and share in that special moment. I think about what it would feel like to have a baby growing inside me. I do not think about child birth because that just looks terrible, but I think about the moment right after when you hold them for the first time. I think about what the fusion of me and Jon would look like in the flesh. How it would be a beautiful representation of our love and all that we mean to each other. How it would certainly wear glasses and be ticklish and creative in some way. How it would be the smartest, cutest, bestest baby that ever lived and nobody better tell me otherwise. And how I would get angry like my mama did if that baby ever got their feelings hurt. How I would try to refrain from pulling out the shotgun and screaming "Nobody puts my Baby in the corner," but I make no guarantees, because after all, I love that baby more than life itself and - I am my mother's daughter. 

So, who knows? Who knows what's to become of us? I do feel that I am a mother inside and I will put my faith in God, or strive to do so, and allow that to come out in the way it is meant to. Here's a little poem I wrote about these feelings: 

_____________________________________

Fly from this earth like a bird to the stars
To the moon, past the sun, why even to mars!
Limits are set for us each to break down
And for a child as bright as you those dreams will abound. 
My baby, I pray each night to my God
That we'll be blessed with your spirit as you ripen my bod. 
For a father, you couldn't ask for one sweeter or kinder
And a devoted mother in me, I promise you'll find her. 
A mama and papa to watch as you grow
A blessing you'd be, Oh! what love you would know. 

Love, 
Robyn

Strange Magic

Heavily, her steps grinded on the black pavement beneath her feet. She hurried along at night on a strange sidewalk of a busy city as bright headlights blinded the path. She was approximately twenty seconds away from the fight that occurred inside the parked car in a crowded lot. The frustration of finding a place to park after a long, strenuous day of doctor appointments and waiting had gotten to the both of them. They desperately wanted to retreat to their tiny apartment outside the city, far away from the chaos of buzzing life. There, they could be alone. Quiet. There, they could hide in the secret little life they had created together. Time moved slower in that apartment and they yearned to be back there. However, an obligation had led to their attendance of a hip event hosted by two dear friends. Young friends, their age, but without the worries of cancer that had shrouded our young couple for more than a year and was now a part of their life. They wanted to go inside and feel like normal twenty somethings, drink a beer or too, laugh frivolously, talk too seriously about their current creative endeavors, pretend to know more than they actually did about life, love, politics, art. But at this point, they knew more than they wanted to know about life and the shit that comes with it. That immature feeling was an impossibility.

Her steps pounded on the wet concrete and a light drizzle of raindrops began to fall. She could now see the street corner. Moments ago, he had admitted something so heartbreaking to her she could barely stand the thought. "I don't want to be me anymore." he said. Her response?  Speechless. Silence. She knew what he meant. He didn't want cancer lurking inside his body. She was sure the thought of being someone else was liberating, but the thought of him not being himself tore her open. In truth, it was her greatest fear. She needed him, like oxygen. But feeling the exhaustion and annoyances of the day, she could not admit this fact. She just looked at him and gave an pathetic whimper. He got out of the car and walked toward the theatre. With the slam of the door, her eyes followed him until he was gone.

She didn't cross the street to follow him. She remained on her side and for a long distance, they walked in step. Torn apart, but still in sync, remaining the same. Traffic raced by and she thought of running into it to get to him. But did he want her? She turned and walked on with red lipstick, meant to conceal her nakedness, bleeding down her mouth and torn stockings unraveling with each step. As she approached the corner, she turned back and looked across the street again. He was gone. Vanished. She thought about the night they met and the dirty streets of Savannah they walked into the morning hours filled with the presence of young love. Now, with time and the messiness of life interfering between them, she was alone and afraid. What if they had remained strangers?

She turned and carried on her slow march to the corner. Perhaps she'd just keep walking into the night. A car slowed down next to her and blasted Electric Light Orchestra's "Strange Magic."

You're sailing softly through the sun
in a broken stone age dawn.
You fly so high.

I get a strange magic,
oh, what a strange magic,

Once again she looked back, but this time he had appeared. Once again, he was waiting for her across the street. His shoulders were not crumpled low and deep into his chest. He stood there, proud and confident, cancer and all. His head was up and his arms were slightly open toward her. She departed her path to the street crossing and weaved in between honking cars and bicycles to reach him on the other side. In a flash, the foreign universe that was treating her without compassion had turned it's cruel eye and welcomed her once again with an optimistic hopefulness. Even the disheveled homeless man on the corner flashed her a friendly smile and waved to her, shouting something in her direction that she couldn't quite understand. When she greeted her love, they both realized he was asking if either one of them had a cigarette. Really? A cigarette? Although she wanted to gesture a profanity and write this off as another ironic, cruel joke made by the universe, she turned to her love and they both burst into laughter. 

You're walking meadows in my mind,
making waves across my time,
oh no, oh no.

I get a strange magic,
oh, what a strange magic,

Hand in hand, they reached the theatre. Underneath the burning lights of the marquee, he pulled her in close to him, gently wiped the smudge of mascara, and smiled with his eyes. She knew that no matter what happened to them in the future, they were never meant to be strangers, and she leaned in to his hard, deep kiss, allowing herself for one moment to float above the ground. 

______________________________________

Yesterday was a stressful appointment where we received results from Jon's latest CT scan. The wait was excruciating and painful, as always. My heart throbbed and Jon became very insular. I'm struggling with my beliefs in life, death, and God, but I swear to you, I felt angels in that room with us. Maybe I'm just becoming delusional and desperate, but I saw Jon's grandparents holding him as he sat on the exam table. One on each side, draped over him with their heads on his shoulders. Smiling assuringly to me and comforting him in a way I could not reach out and do. Our doctor is very kind. He told us that the scan was "relatively stable" and he was optimistic about the results. He said there is nothing to be done right now, but we are watching a few spots that have slightly grown. This could indicate resistance to the current medication and in the new year, we may be looking at switching treatments. Although, we would love to keep on this track, we knew this time would come eventually and we are pleased with the current options available to us. Our doctor is consulting with his colleagues across the nation about available clinical trials in preparation for when that time comes. The transition will obviously be a strain on us financially and could conflict with my going back to school, but we are game for changes and will keep fighting hard and living harder. I am thankful to God and current medical advancements because there are options with the possibility of more and better options in the not so distant future. For now, we are casting our worries away and leaning in to each other as we celebrate this special time of year with gratitude.

Oh, I'm never gonna be the same again,
now I've seen the way it's got to end,
sweet dream, sweet dream.

Strange magic,
oh, what a strange magic,
oh, it's a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
got a strange magic.

It's magic, it's magic, it's magic.

Love, 

Robyn

Why do I write?

Why now do I find I'm capable of putting pen to paper to stroke? Was it simply your gift to me? Was it something given to me by you so deep I could never find words to complete. If I ask the question a thousand times and if my writing could cure you of all pain, I'd write and write and write and write 'til decaying fingers turned green then black then fell off into the dark of the night. Then, I'd learn to write with my left hand and then toes, and though crooked and scraggly the lines formed would align, I'd write until I could write no more, but I'd find a way around again because the answer to my rhyme, my riddle is you. You are why I write. Why I live. 

Love, 

Robyn

The Places You Will Go

This week was filled with ups and downs, but we are celebrating with a fun, relaxing weekend before an even more stressful Monday when a follow-up appointment presents itself. Jon is feeling well and our little home is all decorated for Christmas, making us feel all warm and cozy!

Earlier in the week, I found out that a dear friend passed away last weekend in a car accident. She was young, beautiful, smart, and talented. We met in NYC in an acting program. While there, I made so many deep friendships that will last forever. We used to always talk about how I would visit her in her native Australia. I'm so sad because that trip will never come to be. It got me thinking about all the places Jon and I talk about going. Life is so short and we never know what lies ahead, but it's important to always keep dreaming. I'm going to do my best this weekend to come to peace with the sorrowful passing of my dear friend, the frustrations and anxiety of awaiting test results, and place my mind with happy thoughts of someday vacations to these wonderful places at the top of our list!

1. Austin

Austin is Jon's number one destination...to visit and maybe even one day to live! We discuss it often. There are many stops on our list, but the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema is at the top!

2. Newfoundland

3. Los Angeles

I was there once for less than 24 hours and can't wait to go back with Jon! We want to visit friends + do a few of the studio movie tours!

4. Paris

Visiting the streets of Paris would be an absolute dream come true! 

5. New Orleans

Have a great weekend,

Robyn