My brutal honesty, Hunter's life on the line and our profound positive perspective is what has lead thousands of people to follow our life, Hunter's journey and our will to keep our most cherished love alive.
Well, I have to say, that by now - I feel as if I've been staring a demon in the face for far too long..........and in my heart, I desperately want it to be over, but, in my mind, I know it will never be over. For anyone..........that's an incredibly tough life pill to swallow.
So once again, I am laying out our life on paper, in hopes of some relief, in hopes of some justification..............in hopes of some further understanding of what a terrible, terrible beast we are having to continue to fight, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
They say that 60% of our bodies are made up of water. I had no idea that my 60% would be made mostly of tears. Tears of hope, tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of pain. I will not deny that if I could choose a different path for our son - I would. In a heartbeat. With MY heartbeat. This potentially deadly hand he's been dealt is far from desirable. With that in mind, I feel as if there are tears that need to be acknowledged, tears that need to be embraced, tears that need to be addressed and tears that need to be forgotten.
A Teardrop falls down my face for our life and for our uncertain future with what we feel is the most precious blessing that has ever been bestowed upon us. As I've said before, and have sadly witnessed, happiness can be granted and happiness can be easily taken away.
A Teardrop falls down my face for the cherished, childhood moments that have been stolen from us that can never, ever, ever be replaced.
Many Teardrops fall down my face for the pain we've had to witness Hunter endure in the short time he's been alive. The number of times I've held him in my arms, wondering how much more I could take.........is countless.
Teardrops fall down my face for the mere thought of losing our son, day after day after day after day.
A few Teardrops fall down my face for the fleeting feelings of anger I've felt, for the sadness that has sometimes consumed me and for the fear that sometimes haunts me.
Several Teardrops fall down my face for all the memories of the little warriors, whose faces I still see, as they lost their battle to the beast whose face I've yet had the pleasure to personally mutilate.
Several Teardrops fall down my face for the number of times I wished this wasn't happening to us.
Many Teardrops fall down my face for the many lives that are devastated year after year with a diagnosis of childhood cancer. They have no idea what they are up against and how strong they have to be to fight. It's like watching your child get hit by a speeding train and all you can do is stand there and watch and hold on tight, with hopes that their little bodies will still be standing there once that dreadful train passes.
Some of these Teardrops disappear into thin air because I can't live a life of sadness, a life of anger or a life of regret. I won't. I can't. I've got the true demon to fight and between standing up and facing it and standing up with Hunter.............that takes all my strength. And that's all I'm willing to give.
Some of these Teardrops are swallowed up by the ground to be forever forgotten, because I can't live a life of pain. We've had enough pain over the last two years...........I don't want any more. I can't take any more.
Several of these Teardrops are caught in my hand because they will always be remembered and I carry them with me every single day of my life to appreciate what we've been granted.
Some of these Teardrops land on my heart, some cause bruises, some bring sweet sorrow and some bring a terrible, terrible heartache that is felt a thousand times worse than the most painful heart attack.
Many of these Teardrops fall into my lap where I will continue to hold them dearly and never let them go.
Some of these Teardrops caress my face as they fall and will forever be a sweet hand that is guiding me and allowing me to wake every morning with the hope that someday........everything, truly, will be alright.
And some of these Teardrops remain hidden on my face........for it's the forever sadness that is now a part of my life. A sadness of what has been taken, a sadness of what has been witnessed and a sadness that now has been lived.
These Teardrops, now, seem to outnumber the smiles. But soon, the Teardrops will equal the smiles, and hopefully, someday, the Teardrops will be consumed by the smiles. The sweet smiles of victory, the wonderful smiles of laughter and the loving smiles of life.......however, if and only if we are continued to be blessed with the life of our child. It is a day to day challenge, a day to day struggle and a day to day fight..........and it truly is exhausting and heart-wrenching and I feel as if my soul is constantly being tortured.
We are still dreaming of the day when Hunter wakes up in the morning without crying and actually wakes up happy........the way he used to before he was initially diagnosed with cancer. We are still awaiting the nights when we don't have to check for fevers, check for chills or make him more comfortable because of the tube in his nose or the life lines in his chest. We are still wanting the day to come when we don't have to give him 25 medicines throughout the day, just to keep him alive. And we are anxiously wanting the next three years to pass, so that we can worry less about a relapse.......hoping and praying that we don't see the demon again, whose tried to take Hunter's life from us time and time again. We are looking forward to a life of normalcy.............hopefully that day comes soon.
With all of that being said - I've smiled more in the last two months than I've smiled in the last two years. And those smiles are worth a lifetime of love.
I pray, hard, that one day those tears will cohesively exist with your smiles. That they will be tears of utter joy and disbelief that you survived this traumatic time. Your family is amazing. The hurdles you have lept over are amazing. My tears for you are full of hope and I smile in the brilliance of your courage.
I have followed Hunter's story for some time...I don't even recall how I first heard about him. Our daughter, Lydia, age 5, lost her battle with AML in February 2009. I understand the pain and heartache that you feel, and which you express so eloquently in your post today. I can only say as someone who has lost a child, try to live solely in the moment...don't look too far down the road. None of us know how much time we have...we simply have to try to live in the present. It is the hardest thing in the world to do. My prayers for Hunter's continued recovery and total healing, and for you, his parents, I pray for peace of mind, and a calm spirit. May God continue to bless each and every one of you.
In faith and peace,
Monica Miyashita, Mom to ^^Lydia^^
Lenore, good luck to you and your family. I am a fellow sweet homer from Buffalo. My son also had cancer (Neuroblastoma stage 4) Going on 5yrs since diagnosis so I know what you are going through and experiencing. Keep hanging in there. Things start to get better and better.
Post a Comment