Today I walked to the bed just so I could lay down to smell the pillows. It seems like such a silly thing but I know that one day I will miss the way the pillows are lain after being slept on, and the way they smell just like one of my favorite people.
I walked passed the mirror on the way out of the room, and I paused for a moment because even my own face looks a little bit older, and a little more fragile then it did just a few months before all of this.
I guess that's just what it's like, living with cancer.
Living with something that doesn't ever totally go away, something that is constantly in your home, and on your mind.
The days end up being scheduled to fit around the doctor appointments. The mail begins to only consist of medical bills, and brochures declaring possibilities for treatments. Even the well meaning texts stop getting answered simply because time is being preoccupied with continuous care. The quiet moments become rare and too sad to often bare alone.
Its funny because living with a loved one who has cancer changes everyone's lives. Cancer may be terrible-horrible- no good- very bad thing, but it changes hearts. It makes time with loved ones all the more valuable. And I'm not just about those with the life shortening disease, but the loved ones we see daily, or even just at farewells. The moments become more special, the love grows stronger, and every moment is a little more precious.
Time catches up with you when even normal isn't an option, and everyone is fighting against themselves when the call from a friend comes, and we are faced with the choice to leave or stay home; knowing that we may leave and not come back to everything being as good as it is right now. After all, we all know that the smell on the pillow will one day fade, the schedule will one day be cleared, life will become a new form of normal yet again, and we will have to push through. But none of us want to admit that it may happen at anytime. So for now, we all continue to sacrifice.
Simply having everyone home for dinner, FHE, or family prayer feels more like a priority than being right on time for a movie party. What had once seemed like an everyday occurrence, so often taken for granted, now feels like an even greater blessing. Prayers become more like breathing, and less like a box with a check mark next to it. The spirit seems abundant, because we are more spiritually aware of it.
The gospel was always a center in our lives, but I think it is now the only center we even see anymore. The temple has become a little more sacred, and a lot more peaceful. The three hours of church feels more like a safe haven we not only want but truly need, and greatly appreciate. (even relief society. Because heaven knows I struggle appreciating that block hour a little more than most)
Suddenly we recognize friends that are reaching to us. To strengthen, lift, help, and serve. They are there for the tears, the long nights, the tough phone calls, the move we had to suddenly take, the nights without dinner, and the days when we just need some peach rings or a snow cone that comes with a shoulder to cry on. These friends are starting to seem less like friends, and more like angels and family members.
So maybe living with cancer is living with a constant reminder of Heaven. Maybe it is a constant reminder to be more kind, and loving. It is a reminder to love while we have the chance. It is a reminder to never take a blessing, no matter how small, for granted. After all, cancer is so limited in what is can actually do. So maybe it is just here as a (unwanted, but maybe needed) reminder of what is most important. Because the best thing about the worst time of your life is that you always get to see, and chose to focus on what truly matters most.
So maybe, just maybe, (a big maybe) it isn't that we are living with cancer, but maybe the beautiful thing is that we are still living, and deeply loving in spite of the cancer...
I walked passed the mirror on the way out of the room, and I paused for a moment because even my own face looks a little bit older, and a little more fragile then it did just a few months before all of this.
I guess that's just what it's like, living with cancer.
Living with something that doesn't ever totally go away, something that is constantly in your home, and on your mind.
The days end up being scheduled to fit around the doctor appointments. The mail begins to only consist of medical bills, and brochures declaring possibilities for treatments. Even the well meaning texts stop getting answered simply because time is being preoccupied with continuous care. The quiet moments become rare and too sad to often bare alone.
Its funny because living with a loved one who has cancer changes everyone's lives. Cancer may be terrible-horrible- no good- very bad thing, but it changes hearts. It makes time with loved ones all the more valuable. And I'm not just about those with the life shortening disease, but the loved ones we see daily, or even just at farewells. The moments become more special, the love grows stronger, and every moment is a little more precious.
Time catches up with you when even normal isn't an option, and everyone is fighting against themselves when the call from a friend comes, and we are faced with the choice to leave or stay home; knowing that we may leave and not come back to everything being as good as it is right now. After all, we all know that the smell on the pillow will one day fade, the schedule will one day be cleared, life will become a new form of normal yet again, and we will have to push through. But none of us want to admit that it may happen at anytime. So for now, we all continue to sacrifice.
Simply having everyone home for dinner, FHE, or family prayer feels more like a priority than being right on time for a movie party. What had once seemed like an everyday occurrence, so often taken for granted, now feels like an even greater blessing. Prayers become more like breathing, and less like a box with a check mark next to it. The spirit seems abundant, because we are more spiritually aware of it.
The gospel was always a center in our lives, but I think it is now the only center we even see anymore. The temple has become a little more sacred, and a lot more peaceful. The three hours of church feels more like a safe haven we not only want but truly need, and greatly appreciate. (even relief society. Because heaven knows I struggle appreciating that block hour a little more than most)
Suddenly we recognize friends that are reaching to us. To strengthen, lift, help, and serve. They are there for the tears, the long nights, the tough phone calls, the move we had to suddenly take, the nights without dinner, and the days when we just need some peach rings or a snow cone that comes with a shoulder to cry on. These friends are starting to seem less like friends, and more like angels and family members.
So maybe living with cancer is living with a constant reminder of Heaven. Maybe it is a constant reminder to be more kind, and loving. It is a reminder to love while we have the chance. It is a reminder to never take a blessing, no matter how small, for granted. After all, cancer is so limited in what is can actually do. So maybe it is just here as a (unwanted, but maybe needed) reminder of what is most important. Because the best thing about the worst time of your life is that you always get to see, and chose to focus on what truly matters most.
So maybe, just maybe, (a big maybe) it isn't that we are living with cancer, but maybe the beautiful thing is that we are still living, and deeply loving in spite of the cancer...
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