50 years from now, who is going to remember the name Frank Heshman?

I've always said that I was a passionate person, and that I am glad I am. I believe that being passionate means that you feel more deeply, and act accordingly. A good friend of mine once asked if I thought that we felt more because we are writers. I told her that I thought we are writers because we feel more. Passion requires and generates both feeling and action. Passionate people ride the proverbial roller coaster, experiencing life on the edges of manic depression. Polar opposites are often needed in order to understand either side of the equation. Without hot, one does not really understand cold. Without dark, one does not really understand light. For passion, without sadness, one does not really understand happiness. Such is my life with cancer.

The last couple of days have been absolutely fantastic! Yesterday I had lunch with two friends, Mike and Mike, that I have known since I was a teenager. We spent a few hours together just eating and talking. I also got to spend time with Briana, Mike's 3 year old daughter. I don't know if it is because I am getting older, or a consequence of my recent life experiences, but I am starting to see a lot more joy in spending time with children. Briana brought a book of Disney stories from her room, plopped herself on the couch next to me and asked me to read to her. It was a book she was well familiar with, at least the pictures. I read a few words of a page and she said "next page" while grabbing a handful of the book and turning. There, in the middle of another story, I began to read to her again. Every now and then she told me stories about the characters in the pictures and then would want to move onto a new page again. We did this for about 10 minutes, and I really don't know who had a better time, her or me. This was a simple day, and it was the simplicity of it that made it exceptional.

My friend Chris' family gets together once a year to hand make smoked kielbasa. Last night Chris mentioned to me that today was sausage day and told me if I would like, to join them. As I laid on the couch this morning, figuring out what to do with my day, I thought back to other sausage days I had attended, and about how much I loved Chris' family, and I decided to go. There were so many things about today that made it wonderful. First of all I spent time with Chris, his wife, and his two little boys Simon and Sebastian. I cannot even begin to explain the love I have for them all. The boys, along with a couple of cousins, spent the day running around the backyard, going from one activity to another without missing a beat. As I sat around the smoker with Chris, a couple of uncles and a couple of cousins, we watched the flurry of activity. We talked about how great it is to be a kid. The little ones found incredible amounts of fun in the simplest acts. One of Chris' cousins has a little daughter. Her name is Melissa and she is about 3 years old. I've known her since she was born, but I don't spend enough time around the family that she remembered who I am. At one point she was sitting on her dad's lap, her bright blue eyes framed with golden blond hair, laughing and giggling at all the grown ups. I caught her glancing over to me every now and then, and with the aid of my baseball cap, we played a small game of hide and seek. With every chuckle she let out, the clouds let in a little more sunshine.

Chris' family, since we met in high school, has always treated me with love and respect, like family. Chris' mom has always treated me like one of her own, and at times, better. His aunts, his uncles, his cousins, have over the years invited me into their homes, to celebrate the holidays, to share their happiness, and to commiserate their sadness. We have all shared births, chirstenings, birthdays, weddings, and deaths. They are a part of my family, and I thiers.

Chris has three cousins around our age, Ron, Lauren and Lisa. Ron is a strong and amazing father. For reasons I won't go into here, he has often showed me how strong the human spirit can be. Lauren and Lisa are two of the most awesome women I know. Funny, smart, strong, and oh yeah, gorgeous.

Not having seen them for a while, many of them asked about my cancer and treatment. Mostly it was the same sort of questions I get on a routine basis: how are you?; how is the treatment?; how much longer do you have to go? But there was one question that sort of surprised me. Chris' brother Colin, a fantastic friend over the years, asked, and I'm paraphrasing here "are you going to live or die?" Colin, if you are reading this, I want thank you so much for asking that question. Too many people are very uncomfortable asking, but it is a huge part of what I'm going through. Even though it took you a little bit to get those words together before you asked, it was an utterly refreshing sign of concern. I was relieved to finally answer that question to someone.

These are the reasons to live, the reasons I struggle through the weeks of agony from the chemo. Friends, family, children, being loved and loving, the simple day, stimulating conversation, playing hide and seek using a baseball cap, and beautiful women. Are ya with me!?