Here we are, several days past my husband’s major surgery.
I’ve kept notes, jotted down thoughts, have a record of numerous texts to and from family and friends. A documentation of this time, it seems.
And why would I want that?
So I can look back one day and say,
Even in the midst of pain and anxiety and an unknown future, still we found our ways to cope.
Cancer brings clarity.
It also brings sleepless nights.
It brings an endless array of medications.
It brings walks down long hallways.
It brings out the best and worst in each of us.
It brings strangers bearing the most welcome gifts of hope and understanding.
It brings friends who find it too hard to even acknowledge.
It brings a thousand opinions, most of which don’t matter.
Cancer brings insight.
It brings laughter. Yes. The ultimate defiant act in the face of this disease.
It brings usual and unusual responses, and within them I learn how to see all over again.
A deeper insight into everybody and everything. Truly. A look into my own heart and soul. What I will and will not accept.
I’ve seen my father, my mother, and many relatives and friends fight this disease. I’ve learned something every time. But this time it seems I’m aware of the lessons as they appear.
It looks like a long road ahead.
But we’ll walk it one step at a time.
Clarity is in this moment.
God is with us.