Lots Out there.

Lots of choices, lots of crazy, lots of pain.  There is a mom who's three year old died. She does not trust she did the best she could.  Best hospital, best questions asked, best efforts to help her child.  She is in so much despair.

There is a mom with a 17 year old that went to his prom and things were going along and his ALL came back just before transplant, with a vengeance and nothing could or did stop it. 

There is a mom who is waiting and watching her child slip a way.  The long slow unwinding of a young life.  Just like birth, death takes awhile.  It is a process.  Sometimes a very surprising long process.  

I have imagined having to say Good by to my daughter.  I have wondered if it would be sooner rather than later.  I was deeply frightened the first time but this last time was not fright but stark terror.

There were times, I was not sure how much more her body could take, or she could take.  
I was at the hospital yesterday and saw a tiny little girl on a bike.  She was working so hard to ride.  So happy to be doing so. She had way too many pumps on her pole to be anywhere close to done.  

I handed off a Wishing Rock bag to the dad, told him he could get a little insertie thing for the heavy pole, said a prayer and walked on.

This sick kid thing seems so surreal.   Stacie is with her daughter Allie (not Yakima Allie). She is holding daughter's hand, rubbing her body with cannabis oil and waiting for the inevitable.  The time when she will take her last labored breath.  The time her spirit will leave behind the cancer ridden, chemo, radiation, surgery ravaged body behind.  She will grieve and rage against the universe and will be surrounded by those that love her and her other children and she will somehow with some super strength, walk out of the hospital and bury her child.  As she lets her grief be known, we will all walk with her and feel the bit of her heart that will never heal. 

I don't remember the child dying part as being part of the bargain.  No one should have to complete the birth to death cycle. No one should ever have to leave the room or the hospital or the hospice again. 

I think about how Mary-E just headed off to see the eye doctor.  10 years ago this week, she went to see him and our journey into Cancer World began.  I am relieved she is able to drive and stay up late and leave the lights on and complain about my cooking.  I love she can do her laundry, is looking for a job and still has a sense of humor.

I am cognizant every single day  of the blessings AND the sadness swirling around me.  Both need to be honored.  

Allie is in the blue jacket.