Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.
Joanne Harris, Chocolat
My husband’s dad is dying. My kids are losing their Papa. My mother-in-law is losing her best friend of over 60 years. They are sad and scared and angry, all of which are understandable.
I’m proud of them, though. They are toughing it out together. They are holding hands and crying and laughing at inappropriate cancer jokes. They are thanking doctors and hugging nurses. They are finding joy in fresh coffee and blankets straight from the warmer. They are celebrating a life full of basketball games and road trips and practical jokes.
They are loving each other really, really hard.
For a variety of reasons, I’m here, but not in the middle of it all. This is their time and their space, and right now it seems the best way for me to support them is to love them from just outside their circle. I’m here to bring in food or find softer tissues. I hug teary-eyed children and refill water bottles.
Mostly, I watch my husband care for his parents and children simultaneously, with patience and grace that I only hope I can muster when the time comes. I’m watching him celebrate and grieve, and I am so very proud of him.
It’s been a long, sad week. My father-in-law is dying of cancer and most of the last 5 days have been spent cooped up in a sterile-feeling room in a small mountain hospital.
One evening mid-week, I drove my mother-in-law to her apartment for a quick break from the monotony of the hospital. While she showered and packed fresh clothes, I walked the halls for exercise. I noticed small orange stickers over many of the doorknobs.
DNR. Do Not Resuscitate.
Ok, a little sobering, but it makes sense. This a retirement community, and the residents should absolutely have that choice. I’d probably make the same call at that point in my life.
On my second or third lap, I noticed blue stickers as well. These apparently indicate that the resident has a pet that shouldn’t be let out.
I’m hoping these were just placed unfortunately close together. Otherwise, I’m wondering if the cat truly consented? Was power of attorney involved? Can a cat even legally request a DNR?
Inappropriate, but I laughed hard for the first time all week. So did my mother-in-law. Thank you, anonymous retiree, for lightening our day.
Spring is a beautiful time for a birthday, but with the warm sun and blooming trees comes pollen. Lots of pollen if you live in Atlanta.
Sometimes, even birthday parties have allergy-related casualties.
After an afternoon of x-rays, we learned that Emmaline did not break her ankle. It’s just a sprain and she should be back on the field in a couple of weeks.
She is less than impressed about missing a double header this weekend, though.
Someday we will get through one soccer season without x-rays.
But not today.