“The growth is suspicious”
Since September these nebulous words have shaped the life of my family and taken us in a direction I would never have imagined. My beloved, the mother of my children, was confirmed to be stricken with this seemingly random and capricious disease. My whole world suddenly shrunk and zoomed into focus.
I have felt stuck on the sidelines, helpless at times, watching my wife fight this ailment and deal with the side effects of a multiplicity of poisonous drugs flowing through her system.
There is a fog that follows the chemo treatment for her , and I wait and hope for the mist to lift, to connect with her, to understand. Her pragmatism throughout all this amazes me. We talk matter of factly about things that sometimes have me screaming on the inside.
A lot of waiting around – waiting for appointments, answers, test results and treatment. My incessant need for instant gratification and clean resolutions has been thwarted and I’ve had no choice but to learn how to accept a high level of uncertainty.
I haven’t been able to write. I have been paralyzed and exhausted by night fall, my emotional reservoir empty after a day of work and attending to the children. This can’t persist though, as I am starting to see that even in the midst of all this uncertainty there is life going on around me that requires my engagement.
I’ve spent more time lately reading to my kids at night, a ritual that sees us all in sync and calm at the end of the day, feeding our imaginations with rich and fantastical narratives. This makes me think of course of the power of narrative – what words or stories are filling my mind in the face of all this uncertainty?
I have some better choices to make and I think I have recently committed the crime of not looking past my own shadow and seeing what could be on the horizon . It hit me the other day when Sara sent me an e-mail with ideas for summer vacations, a simple thing really, but it made me realize that my imagination has been limited by focusing so much on just “getting by”.
In the spirit of being defiantly hopeful I am trying to relearn how to look forward. Please join me.