Almost didn't feel the landing. We have arrived. We are here. It was a quiet re-entry, a soft gentle thump. No broken bones, no real jarring crash. A simple.... quiet... sigh.
So now what? Like all endings there are things still to be done. Loose ends. Eye stuff, teeth stuff, Port Removal. Medication ending. Some being changed and added to facilitate the end. Some sticking around until January and some never end but the list is much much shorter.
Deep sigh. Quiet contemplation about what it means.
Maggie wondered if we were having a party. An end of treatment party. Does not seem the thing to do. Does not seem like I am ready to celebrate. I wonder if celebration at the end of the last journey was a form of hubris. Are we really really done? Is it done? How do we know? When do we know? Will we ever know for sure?
I know when I read about people ending treatment and rejoicing, a little part of my heart hurts for them. A bit of fear resides somewhere, that little voice, that nagging smidge of knowing.. knowing they might not really be done.
They might have the call from the tired child with the bruises and the headaches and it might start again....
I am so grateful and so relieved and so....
So if I rejoice, is there another parent out there, sending me a heartfelt warning. If they have a story of another journey?
Going to do some breathing. Some quilt finishing. Some reading. Some taking in the moment, quietly.