Friday, September 14, 2012
And so it begins....
The march usually starts around the end of September. It starts the day we got his third diagnosis, and it extends through our wonderful train trip to California, our week at MD Anderson head and neck cancer center, my birthday in the emergency room, a lovely and terribly sad family bbq, and culminates with the horrible last days leading to the actual anniversary. Each year I walk the days and mark them. I hold them in my arms, I hug them, I cover them with my tears and then let them go. Each year it is slightly less painful, but only slightly. Each year I am reminded of the good and bad of those last days and I am reminded of how precious life is. How quickly it can be taken, and how much I need to appreciate the people I have while I have them.
My life is so much better now than it has been in years, and I am grateful for it. But I'm always aware of the loss we have experienced, and the choice I have made to make the best of what's left of my days. I'm hyper aware of how quickly things can change. I want to be more grateful and more focused on the things that matter. I want to savor every moment and hold tight to all the memories being made now. I could be hit by a truck tomorrow, and I want "no regrets" to be my motto until then.
I'm working on it. Hard.