Sunday, June 21, 2009
I am not spending Fathers Day with my Dad this year, and that is unusual. To be fair, I didn't trek to the homestead this year on Mothers Day, either, and that also was unusual. The reason is the same, and I feel sure (or at least hope) my parents understand. On the second Sunday in May, Jamie was recovering from a third surgery, building strength to begin chemotherapy, and needed my help. This third Sunday in June finds him resting up and growing those much needed white cells so we can resume chemo in a few days. Jamie is doing well, if a bit tired, and does not need me at his side constantly. He keeps full bottles of fluid at his side (and drinks them like he should) and can make his own meals (and clears his plate and cleans his dishes). While he is able, he prefers to do such things for himself. In days like these, I suppose, I am a cheerleader; and, one who is reluctant to look away, lest some game-changing play happens while I'm not paying attention. I know that my cheering is purely metaphorical. I could yell until I was hoarse, jump up and down in my old beribboned pigtails, and even land the cartwheel I never quite could at 16. You could give me a "W - H - I - T " and "E," and throw in the "C - E - L - L's," too. I could even stretch these 41-year-old legs back into old familiar splits and grin until my cheeks ached. My husband's bone marrow will not be impressed. That doesn't stop me, in my heart, from trying. It doesn't stop me from thinking that if I am here, clapping my hands and then holding his, the heat of my blood will stimulate something in his. It doesn't stop me from thinking that if I sing one more goofy song or dance one more silly dance that makes him laugh, those just might be the endorphins that push us into the positive. And it doesn't stop me from wishing like hell that I could come off the sidelines, get in the game, and be able to do more than I know I'm physically capable of doing. Because this is the only way I know how to love. And that's why I think my parents must understand why I am here. I had to learn it somewhere.
Posted by CCW at 2:07 AM