I’ve lost the will to scold. I’m trying to watch American Idol. There are little alphabet bath toys all over the floor which flew from the miniature tractor trailer as it went whizzing in and out of the living room and around the dining room table. The driver of which is not happy unless both older brothers are chasing, blockading, and otherwise increasing the thrill of the ride. And I don’t care. Well, it’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I love it. Cancer, even the threat thereof, has a way of reminding me how much I love the chaos.
John, the oldest and 8, likes to write notes on the notebook by my work computer so I will see them in the morning. The other day it said, “I love you Mama, and I wish you didn’t have canser.”
Drew, the second one and 6, after hearing me thank John later that morning for his wonderful note, wanted to participate as well. I received his paper just before he left for school: “Don’t forget to buy toothpaste.”
Jake gets the blog spotlight most often, so I don’t need to write about how he’s been singing today. SING-ing. It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
I’ve been on a serious roller coaster about this whole bone biopsy thing. It’s really difficult to face, and there is a permanent gnawing in the pit of my stomach to prove it. It kind of feels like the editor of my life forgot to take this chapter out or something. You know, like, “Oh wait, she doesn’t need this kind of thing again, she so perfectly learned all the lessons the first time! Just look at the way she enjoys all those toys on the floor!” I was hoping that first bout with cancer was my one valley of the shadow, and it was all green pastures from here on out clear to heaven – which would be a long time from now. So I’ve been thinking about another great John moment. He was less than 5 and we had just seen The Neverending Story, the fantasy part of which begins and ends at the Ivory Tower. “Huh,” John said at the end. “They’re back at the Tower. They should have just stayed there. But that would have been a really short movie.”
I guess I’d rather have this chapter than end the story altogether. And don’t think it’s lost on me that John doesn’t know how to spell canser. That’s gotta mean something.