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January 1, 2011

With the New Year comes the third anniversary of my having been declared free of cancer.

Chris says, “Not being dead kind of trumps anything else we might plan for the day.” Last night I was Crankypants McGee, and the designated driver, so I pretty much stayed that way while Chris got smashed on Fish House Punch and our kids ran wild at the party we all went to.

I’m not thinking about it much. At some point, I’m going to be ready to move on.

I’d like to spend the day navel gazing, but my family keeps clamoring for my attention. Perhaps that’s a good thing.

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