It is 6:30 am. F:rank and I get ready for work. Zack meets me at the entrance to living room, dressed and ready to take me to work (we share my car until his truck is ready to drive). I'm surprised! This is the kid that loves to sleep in, he doesn't like it when he has to wake up early (what kid does), and yet he is ready before I am. He takes me in to work and tells me he is going to Asheville to see about the open wound and depending on what they do, he wants to hang out with his friends after.
He is trying to get as much fun in as possible with his friends before his first treatment on Tuesday. We can be told of all the possible side effects, what to expect, what to do or not to do, but until we are there, it is all a mystery.
The day at work continues with so much positive energy and talk. Everyone is asking about Zack and how we all are. the words flow out of my mouth so easily "all of the cancer is gone!!!, he still has to have chemo, but we are so far ahead of the game". I'm reminded of the time Mom and I would do shows to sell our father Christmas figures. Mom would tease me and say I was "singing" the phrase when talking about them..."they are one of a kind, hand made, signed and numbered". I would say it so many times, it was imbedded in my brain. This now is too!! As I say it over and over again, I FEEL what I am actually saying and begin to get goosebumps each time I share the news. It's like an energy came over me and I KNEW that everything was going to be alright, it IS alright.
Zack calls from Asheville. He has been running around for hours, from one doctor to the other, only to find out that the incision is fine and he just needs to keep it clean. Seriously? He is frustrated and says "I wasted three hours for this?" He is a relieved though and says that he wasn't looking forward to more stitches. I tease him and say "see, even the doctors are telling you to take a shower", "NOT funny Mom".
It is mid afternoon, I get an email from one of my old "Boy Scout" friends. She is asking for our address to send us an invitation to her sons Eagle Scout Celebration. WOW!!!! Life does go on.( Zack had decided last year that Scouts was no longer for him and after trying to convince him for a year to stay with it, we decided not to force him. This is supposed to be HIS journey, not ours and we can guide him, but forcing him just isn't fair. ) I realize this email is a "trigger" for me. Kids are preparing to go back to school, to return to Scouts, normal every day stuff, as we are preparing for a whole new way of learning ( Homebound and on line courses) and living. I remember going to the store for groceries last week and seeing all the school supplies with parents and kids picking out their backpacks. I was sad that we won't have that experience just one more year. I turn my thinking around and say "good, one less backpack to buy", but I'm not really convinced. I email my friend "we won't be able to attend, Zack has chemo starting next week", sorry too tired to go into details, all info is on my blog.. and then I realize... What the hell did you just do, THAT'S how you tell someone? Today, all tact is gone, my energy is depleting with this subject and today, I just wanted to be a "normal mother".
Nancy and I have a couple of moments, we laugh and we cry together. We question why, but don't have any answers. Maybe we will "see" the answers later on, but for now, we are doing the best we can. She wishes she could make all of our pain go away, she is very protective of me, but I know we are to learn from this and come out better, stronger people. I think about Mom's message to me, "don't try and be Mother Teresa, even SHE wasn't a saint all the time and would get mad". I store that in the back of my mind for future reference.
I make it home from work, Zack runs in the house and gives me a big hug and kiss and runs out the door to spend the night at his friends house. He is in good spirits and is ready for the next day. Frank is settled in on the couch watching his favorite British show about cars and I sit down to blog and "release". Never in my 52 years would I ever believe anyone if they told me I would write a "journal" and yet this has been my saving grace. I am blessed to have this venue and continued Love and support from so many people. Yes, Life does go on, even for us...
Life goes on, my darling daughter, a day at a time. Love ye, Mom
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