Wednesday, July 24, 2013

It was long after midnight when we got to unconditional love


Many things make a post ...

  • I know I haven't written here in ages.  I slid into depression and am working my way back out of it.  I have had excellent emotional support from too many people to mention. You people rock.
  • Many, many things have been happening on the cancer front, up til now none of them very encouraging.
  • Joy and happiness pop up in the most unexpected places. I am ever grateful.
  • I'm learning more and more about my own limits and about what I want.  Some of that has shown me my limitations in unflattering ways.  I am reminded that as much as I have grown, there is always work to do.
  • Joy sometimes comes in the form of minion swag brought home by loved ones from Comic-Con.
  • Caregiving is exhausting. It is also rewarding, mind-blowing, detail-oriented. The results are worth all the exhaustion.
  • Taking apart the accoutrements of a life is painful and hard.  The part of my soul that loves decluttering is dancing; the part of my soul that feels the loss is grieving.

8 comments:

  1. Is it fatuous of me to note that I never knew you were a Rush fan?

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    1. Heh - *huge* Rush fan. I've lost count of how many times I've seen them in concert.

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  2. I have been thinking about you a lot and was going to try to catch up with you at Jaywake (even though we've never met), but I will not be there, so comments have to do.

    As you may know, my brother died in April of colon cancer. His daughter had previously had, and got completely through, Hodgkins' lymphoma. Both of them say unequivocally that being the sick one is easier than being on the core caregiving/worrying team.

    I'm glad you're getting support. I think about you a lot.

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    1. Thanks. Sorry we won't see you at Jay Wake.

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  3. I don't know you except thru your words, and Jay's words, but I read every word both of you write, and admire beyond my ability to string words together the strength you both show in the face of adversity near beyond comprehension.

    I was the only child more than a decade ago (a 'child' in my 40s) when both my parents were ill with cancer for years. I understand the caregiving things, and what I've always thought of as the "anticipatory grief" that was such a large part of it all for me.

    I guess in large part I just wanted to say I do admire you, and think I understand at least part of what you're going thru, and so if you ever wonder if anyone reads what you write, there is someone out here who hangs on every word, and sends good thoughts your way on a daily basis, which is as close as this atheist can come to prayer - the things Jay has posted about his views on religion come as close as anyone has ever come to matching my own.

    I was happy to see the news that he posted today, since I'd feared what I would read instead was the equivalent of "read it and weep" and instead I see that the two of you will have more time together, and hopefully more of that time will be "good" time.

    I cannot think of matters involving life and death without remembering how well Warren Zevon summed it up years ago, when he said "Enjoy every sandwich". I hope the both of you have much more yet to be enjoyed.

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    1. Thanks. Anticipatory grief is something I didn't expect, but even as painful as it is, it feels easier to cope with than what I expect on the other side of this process.

      And this atheist appreciates your good thoughts.

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  4. My father died of prostate cancer back in 1993, relatively quickly and easily as these things go. I am very glad you have support, and I hope I can also support you through this. You have a very special relationship and I admire you so much. Savor your days together, and may they continue to be surprisingly many. Hugs.

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    1. Thank you. Your support of Jay is a big help, and I'm hoping you & I will get to know each other better.

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