This Christmas is extra special.

Truth be told, so was Thanksgiving this year but I wasn’t quite prepared for it.

With days left until the celebrating of the birth of Christ our Savior I’m going to step out a bit and hijack this space for personal note. Typically, I like to recount relatable “musings” for our readers in hope of some enlightenment or a chuckle as a takeaway.

And while this may be a bit selfish and self-serving, my hope is my faithful readers will continue on with reading nonetheless, as I feel there is a lesson here.

This Christmas marks my first Christmas in four years that I will gather with my family and be “cancer free.” That’s a big deal and won’t go wasted on me. Thanksgiving held the same good news for us this year, yet for some reason I was numb to the celebration as we’ve had a bit of a rocky road with our journey and “recurrences” have been a thing.

Weeks later I am now not only embracing that we are on the other side of a hellish battle but have taken pause to break a few simple things down, as well as acknowledge some others.

Before I earned my title as “Survivor,” I was in awe of community members, as well as family who had walked this battle and earned their own titles as “Warriors.” I understood it, as I watched them live by a calendar filled with treatments, tests, doctor appointments and new plans. It is indeed a battle and definitely not one for the faint at heart or quitting spirit.

Early into my battle in 2020, convinced we’d be in and out in a year and a half, just as the treatment plan was presented, I was ready to check the boxes and get back to my abundant life.

That, however, was not God’s plan and for whatever reason, He felt I had a few more things to learn (and share). During that early season one of my oncology nurses shared she knew I would win the battle because of my optimism. If being honest that was hard for me to hear. I’ve lost some very special people to this disease and they fought like Ali. She also shared that what she’d learned about cancer was that “God gives it to the toughest, so the rest of us will learn.”

Never in all my life have I heard medical professionals speak of God and faith until I got cancer. Sort of like the old saying of when a soldier is in a bunker during war, he finds God real quick. Battle time stuff.

Again, as someone who only sat next to those in the battle prior, I could not disagree with what she had said. I myself had learned a lot from friends and family who had fought and succumbed to the brutal nature of cancer.

The thing about a battle is one soldier alone does not an army make. And with days left before my first “cancer free” Christmas in four years, I cannot help but think of my tremendous army and how blessed I am to have them.

It starts quite simply by recognizing so many of you, our community. Through the last four years so many of you have sent cards, e-mails, books, articles and let us not forget prayers for myself and my family as we traveled through the unknown. Early this year a dear friend organized a Meal Train as I relocated to San Francisco for six weeks and my family was simply overwhelmed by the community’s generosity to feed them.

There were also some monetary donations which helped tremendously with gas, car maintenance, daily parking, as well as some small memorable trips long overdue for our family.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the loving souls of the H-B, a very special family of regulars who rallied in 2022 to raise funds to help cover the cost of the Cooling Cap so that I wouldn’t once again lose my hair, as I faced chemo for a third time. For some it’s vanity, for me it was maintaining an appearance of being “well” and allowing me to battle with a bit more privacy and dignity - even if I was cute bald.

Then there is my company (209 Multimedia) as well as my work family. The things we have weathered as a team is quite honestly book worthy in and of itself. Working with an employee and the schedule of cancer for four years, however, is deserving of a shout out. I met plenty of people in treatment rooms who lost their jobs due to their inability to work. While I did take a bit of time off in the beginning, overall it has been a juggle and a dance of manipulating what I could do and how I could get it done for deadlines. Most times not skipping a beat, so the reader never knew. Editor Marg Jackson remained supportive through each pivot as there were days I just wasn’t strong enough to type a sentence. Again ... it’s a battle. The text threads we shared as a team, as my bed became my office were bright spots of sunshine. The support of our office staff unwavering - lucky stuff.

This is getting long, but I’m going to continue and I hope you all stay with me.

How to properly acknowledge my two beautiful children who had to watch their pillar of strength crumble (at times) and grow up a bit faster than their contemporaries. They were 12 and 15 at my time of diagnosis, to say it rocked our family to its core would be an understatement. Yet they believed in their mom, her strength and most stubborn determination and on those few days I just didn’t know if I could, I saw in their eyes all my possibilities. We would win this - together.

Then there was my partner. The person who held me through fear, reminded me who I was and said from day one, “You are an athlete. We will treat this like everything you have in the past. Hit it hard, tackle the obstacle and overcome it.” There’s a lot of unspoken darkness during a cancer battle and I’m grateful that during that time I had a person to hold my hand as I walked through it. Cancer is hard on relationships and while my life was spared our relationship was not. Nonetheless I remain forever grateful for him. That chapter of our lives will forever be one that he and I only understand, regardless of what others may think. We are each changed because of it.

My family … where would we be without our parents? I recognize through this how fortunate I was to not only have parents close by but able to be supportive in so many ways. We laughed a lot through this journey and prayed even more. I can’t imagine what it was like for them, yet I’m grateful to have had them unwavering by my side.

And then there was my “front line,” the friends which deserve their own column space quite honestly. These women (and one man) demonstrated for my family what true friendship looks like. They drove me to treatments, sat with me during treatment, waited for me during surgery, joined me in doctor’s appointments and kept me laughing on days I just might not have. They were their own type of Warriors and their brave faces were beams of light on some really tough days. I never doubted I would win with these angels at my side. So … Michelle, Vickie, Rachelle, Cheryl, Sara, Stephanie, Nancy, Jen, Mari and Carl thank you for putting your lives on hold so that mine could be saved. It’s a menagerie of folks, but it is the best front line any girl could have ever hoped for. What a blessing each of you are in this world.

So here’s where we land the plane on my selfish acknowledgment for this beautiful Christmas. God gave me another year and I am here for it.

What I recognize is we all have battles, we all have struggles and times which are less than desirable … yet we find a way. This Christmas I hope for each of you there is a moment of acknowledgement and gratitude for all the things which make your life blessed. We truly never know what tomorrow, next week or next year will bring. Live in this moment, say the things you need to say and celebrate the birth of our Savior and King.

Merry Christmas.

Teresa Hammond is a staff reporter for The Oakdale Leader, The Riverbank News and The Escalon Times. She may be reached at thammond@oakdaleleader.com or by calling 209-847-3021.