I have a hazy memory of, at some point during cancer treatment, being told by a nurse to imagine myself somewhere that I feel safe and happy (to distract myself from whatever horrible thing was happening at the time). Last week, my physical self got to go where my mind has gone many times over the last several months.
My father-in-law has a cottage on the most beautiful little lake in northern Ontario. Time stands still there but the days go by quickly (I've never been able to figure out how that works). It is a place of healing (my father-in-law sought refuge there during his own cancer treatment two summers ago), relaxation and joy.
On July 13th, we toasted the fact that I wasn't in chemo (I had treatments every third Thursday) and every day I felt a little stronger. On July 16th, we drove home, feeling restored (the kids didn't even fight once during the five hour drive). My little family really needed this respite.