Total Eclipse Embroidery Poster
Have you ever had a life altering moment that reminds you how small our world is? Have you ever seen a total eclipse?
If you haven’t, I highly recommend that you put it on your bucket list right now. My first experience was in 2017 when the path of totality went through Glendo, Wyoming. It is still the most magical thing I have ever witnessed — and as we headed on our 11 hour, normally 2 hour, journey back to Denver — we all excitedly discussed where we would go to watch the next total eclipse in April 2024 and termed ourselves “umbraphiles”.
Little would I know, my next viewing of the total eclipse would come into jeopardy when I was diagnosed with my recurrence. In early March, when I began speaking with oncologists about treatment options I asked if I had travel plans on April 8th, what would that mean? I kept asking, as if, waiting for the oncologists to tell me I wouldn’t be able to travel or see the eclipse again, or at least not this one. However, they never told me no.
As I worked through our wonderful healthcare system — I was burdened with trying to advocate for myself through phone call after phone call trying to get the right care. I am a big believer that everything happens for a reason. After I finally made a decision on my oncologist — both her and my nurse would encourage me to take my trip to see the eclipse — they wanted me to have one more moment of joy before I would start this next chapter.
It was worth every second of that four and a half minutes to see the moon totally eclipse the sun. That moment of awe, wonderment, and peace helps to put everything back into perspective and to remind us to be grateful for the little moments, as they are always fleeting.
The total eclipse was a Monday afternoon in Vermont, I flew home the following Tuesday evening from Boston, had a PET/CT scan on Wednesday morning, my port placed that afternoon, and come Thursday morning, I would have my first chemotherapy treatment. In hindsight, what transpired was absolutely crazy and I am not sure I would recommend this to someone just starting treatments. I do not think I was able to process what was about to happen until a couple weeks after, but can you ever really be ready for something like this?
It has been two months since my last chemotherapy treatment, my hair is starting to grow back, and I am starting to reflect on it all. If you are about to embark on this treatment plan, I would try to find your own moment of joy — and hold on to it as your guiding force. As I recently stitched through this embroidery poster, it reminded me who I am, why I fought for what I wanted, why I continue to fight, and where I want to go from here. Maybe the moon has been guiding me all along and I just had to look for it in total darkness to find its pull.
If you’d like to create this embroidered poster or other embroidery kits, check out Simple and Sylvan’s site. If you’d like to make plans to see this cosmic event — meet me in Spain in March 2025 or join me in Colorado in March 2026.