A brand new day...

During the summer, the sunlight creeps into our bedroom and wakes me up earlier than I would like. Yet, once I finally succumb to the call of the day... I am always grateful for the clean slate in which we all get to live. We can write our own actions and paint our own world within the confines of a new day. EACH day is a new adventure. Sometimes, I can forget this, but I try to quickly pull back into my world which includes four children on a daily basis. Morgan and Jack are mine. Thatcher and Landrum are my sisters. We spend a lot of time with this posse of little people and the lessons I learn are wonderful.

Thatcher (see picture of Thatch and me) , my five-year-old nephew, ran up to my car yesterday before my scan appointment and told me, first thing how he that he thought I would get good results and that my medicine was working. He was actually waiting outside for us, which I thought he was waiting to play with Mo and Jack. But, it turned out he was waiting for ME. I asked my sis about his words and she said he came up with it all on his own...that he wanted to talk about my appointment that day. Then, it just came to him like a bolt of awareness, that I would get good results. His epiphany was redemptive to me. I was amazed at the adult way in which he delivered such thoughtful words.

Thatch has been on my mind through my last set of treatments. He is five now and has noticed my hair loss more and the fact that I am gone for treatments and not playing with the posse. He was very cute one day when he was tired and 'fessed up that he thought my kids were getting more grandparent time because of my "tuna"...which, i figured out meant, "tumor". We talked it out among Thatcher and me and we decided that I was the only one getting more grandma and grandpa...so he was okay with that. I truly appreciated his candor and ability to tell me such a raw thought, but it turned out that he was just tired. He was not jealous, he is probably one of the most empathetic people I know. Such a sweet kid.

My sister and her husband are always there for Michael and me. So are my mom and dad...not that other family isn't there. It is just easier for me to ask my family because they want to and need to be a part of this process. We all work hard to normalize this strange disease for each of the four grandkids. We let them do medical play, if that helps, and answer any random questions that come up along with way. Mo helped me reveal my bald head to Thatch and Landrum. They just giggled. We accept each child's curiosity and respect their role in the process. I learned early on that this was not just my cancer, but it was my family's disease, too. The family's roles are different, yet just as important as mine. The children are included in this definition of family and we treat each of them as unique individuals.

Morgan is seven and Jack is four. They have been used to cancer for so long now..and I see their empathy to others who look different or feel sick. It doesn't happen all of the time, but when I see their empathy...I am redeemed. It has been so amazing to watch Thatcher come along in this way. I was worried about him, but as it turns out, I think he was more worried about me...and about Morgan and Jack. I always know I have a burden to teach the kids about this situation, but I am amazed when they surprisingly "school" me with their inherent trust in the healing process. Seeing myself through their eyes is a saving grace.

Gotta go hang out with Mo, Jack, Thatch and Landrum.

Enjoy your brand new day!

Blessings,
Lolo