The Eternal Countdown
I've always held on to things a little more tightly than I should.
I mourn things long before they’re gone, people, experiences, nuance, I've been this way since I was young.
That longing for moments to stay resulted in me clinging tightly to those precious moments I knew would eventually come to an end. It’s changed the way I look at life, now I go all in, whatever it is, I'm right there, present, deep in the experience. Carpe Diem, it's something that I work at every day without fail, I acknowledge those heavyhearted feelings and then pack them away so I can fully immerse myself in my life.
The other day I was sitting at a coffee shop writing and my phone rang, it was from an unknown number, I answered it for no particular reason, I never answer my phone, it was the Radiation department calling for my husband. It took me a few minutes to realize what the phone call was about, and it wasn't really until I got home and asked my husband if his Dr. had scheduled him for another procedure, angiogram, MRI, etc, did I understand. This was the consult about actual Radiation, how many rounds he'll need, what will happen, the risks, what it will entail, etc, he still needs one more brain surgery before he can begin, but this was it. In the back of my mind I knew this was coming of course, my body, seemingly more aware of the looming time than my mind, proven by my shoulders steadily shortening the space between themselves and my ears, plus a constant and very painful eye twitch had plagued me for the past three days, but for the first time in what seems like forever, my mind was free from that eternal countdown
This past month we have taken a break from the appointments and the surgeries, I have purposely not really talked about it to anyone about it either, I needed a break, we needed a break. I just wanted to enjoy life for a moment, without the Dr.'s telling me the statistics and horrible odds, without the well-meaning sorry faces looking back at me when I talk about my reality, without explaining, without thinking about it constantly. It was blissful really, well, as blissful as my reality can get at the moment, never the less it was something I really needed.
I emersed myself in work, I watched my children play, I document the seemingly mundane moments between my husband and our girls, I meditated, I traveled, we danced, we loved, I lived, and rested easy.
I didn't expect that simple phone call to hit me as hard as it did. As I stood in my bedroom folding laundry I realized that my Dad who had been with us for the past week was leaving to go back to Costa Rica in two days and that my husbands next surgery and Radiation were upon us; these thoughts, hanging over me like led.
I want to stay here, in this moment, I want to stop time where I know we are happy, free, I'm not ready to step into the unknown, I'm not ready to fight this internal battle of "how much time do we have," I'm not ready to do the hard work again.
...but here I am,
a little wiser,
a little steadier,
a little more prepared,
on the pressipus of the unknown
Really it's the same as any other day you kiss your loved one's goodbye or goodnight isn't it...