Making Valentines with Grandma

My mom decided that today was a good day for her to work with Ashlyn on creating her annual valentines! Sure it's a little early, but who says you can't make valentines in January? Grandma and granddaughter sat for 2 hours; stamping, coloring, cutting, folding, and tying ribbons on valentines for Ashlyn's class and Brownie troop.

My mom had a full day with chemo, radiation, visiting the oncologist, and a physical therapy home visit. She was probably tired, and probably needed a nap. She doesn't let that stop her though from missing any "quality time" with the kids. Right now, she knows that this will be the best of times with her health, and she is not missing a single moment making memories with her grandchildren.

I realize how much my mom can teach me about both living and dying. Joy in the simple moments, joy in the act of creating memories, and joy in just living, is enough.

Breakfast with a neurologist

I had never met a neurologist or a neurosurgeon before, until Christmas Eve. My mom was given a very kind doctor named, Dr. Pavot, who had the unpleasant job of delivering her diagnosis news to me. I remained strong during his visit, but shortly after had many tears. He came and found me minutes later, and was such a supportive doctor both medically and emotionally.

Imagine my surprise today, when Dr. Pavot asked if he could pull up a chair next to me in the hospital cafe, and eat breakfast together! During our visit he said how my mom had such a great attitude, and patients with that attitude always do the best. He also took the time, to tell me that our worry really accomplishes nothing, and that if anything, all worry does is take away from the quality of your day to day life. He said that all any of us can do, is lead a healthy lifestyle, and enjoy each day, as each day is all we are really guaranteed. I walked away from our impromptu breakfast very rejuevenated, and ready to fight this cancer battle with my mom. I am realizing that we may not win this battle, (although we will certainly try!) yet we will have won valuable time together, and that is a lesson I want my mom to take with her into the cancer battlefield...her second battle with cancer begins today, with the first day of chemo and radiation...

Football in the snow and a spaghetti dinner

A week and a half ago, life was normal, predictable, and routine. Within that time, our lives have been turned upside down, and the things we once put so much importance in, have now been overshadowed with a new reality of time. I have learned that time spent with family, time spent laughing, playing a game, or just visiting, is to be treasured moment by moment.

Tonight I sat with my mom as we enjoyed our spaghetti dinner together. We talked about her wishes, things she still wants to do, and the ways she wants to be remembered. The neurosurgeon stopped by, and wanted to talk as well. He told us about the people he knew who had passed away from the same type of brain cancer my mom has. He told her this cancer gives her a gift, to have time to say, "Goodbye", unlike his 20 year old patient earlier this week, who died tragically in a car accident and did not have that same, "gift." He explained to us, that whether she has a few months or a year, that she should go and live her life the way she chooses, while she still has the remaining brain power to do so. He looked her in the eye and said that she should not worry, that she should fight to the end and have hope. He wanted her to know that although her health will eventually decline, the end would not be painful, and she should not fear it. A week and a half ago, we never even pondered such things, or imagined we should need to.

As we ate our dinner together, and discussed his comments, I thought of Tom making banana milkshakes with the kids, of him playing football in the snow with Kyle, and of his unconditional willingness to fight this cancer battle with us. Tom has given us all his gift of time and presence. I thought of my mom raving about my mediocre spaghetti meal, and that it didn't matter that it wasn't a gourmet meal, but it was a gift of time shared together. Everyday moments with family and friends, playing football, making a milkshake, or sharing a meal; these are the gifts of time the doctor spoke of. The end should not be feared, but the time spent living should be enjoyed.

We will enter the first 6 week battle of cancer armed with radiation, chemotherapy, and hope. We will enter it, knowing time is ours to enjoy, no matter if that time is measured in days, months, or years. Our time spent with my mom, watching the kids play, of visiting and reminiscing, will be our lasting gifts. I hope you too will savor all those little moments with your family, and know that time, is your gift too.