Katie was much better yesterday. She didn't complain of her tummy hurting, and it was evident she felt better. I anticipate she will get weaker again in a few days (that is how it goes). Chemo works in strange ways. I am glad Katie had a better day!
Conner has swim lessons in the mornings for a half hour. I never knew a half hour could last so long! Conner is crying before we even get there, and then when we arrive, he clings to the fence screaming, "Please mommy no, Please mommy I don't want to do this, Please mommy I am scared, Please I want to go home, Please mommy please!" The swim teacher has to help me pry him from the fence (it literally takes two of us). Conner continues that same mantra for the entire half hour: "Please mommy please, I"m scared please..." I have almost caved in multiple times, because I have felt it can't be worth it - for him, me, or Katie (as Katie is also with me, in the heat, with her mask on). However, two things have kept me going - and it is less about swimming and more about life. 1. Conner needs to know that mommy can't/won't always save him from hard things, and 2.he needs to know he can do hard things. And he is doing it. Afterward he is cold, bluish, and shivering, but he flashes me one big proud smile of accomplishment, and in that moment I know I made the right choice for him. --Although it still feels like torture for me! --Between Katie and Conner, I am learning I can do hard things too.
There are different levels of hard. I read an article in the Deseret News (Sunday, June 3, 2012 edition). It is titled "Dad writes letters to a daughter he won't see grow up." Ben Thomas has Lou Gehrig's disease (ALS). The disease causes the person to lose control and strength of their voluntary muscles. When muscles in the diaphragm stop working, they lose their ability to breathe on their own. Most people with the disease will live only three to five years after being diagnosed. Ben is 31 years, he has had the disease for two years, and he has a daughter that is only 18 months old. Ben is an optimistic person. In the article he says, "I guess you just learn to focus on the things you do have, the things that you can do... Maybe my legs don't work, but I can make my daughter laugh." The illness has helped him and his wife realize what matters most in life. "Our whole understanding of life changed... Things just started to mean more." They are cherishing life and every minute they have together. Ben is writing letters to his daughter so she will know him and have a memory of him through the letters. Ben said, "It might be painful for a little while, or difficult and sad, but we believe in an afterlife. We'll be together again... and 300 years from now we'll think 'Remember when you had ALS? What were we so worried about?" With the time they have left together, probably the most poignant message he wants to leave his daughter is one of happiness. "I'd probably want to tell her that she can be happy no matter what," 'Ben said, his voice breaking with emotion and tears in his eyes.' "Happiness is a choice. People can take things from you, or your health can be taken from you, but you can always choose to be happy."
This family is facing unimaginable hard things. My heart hurts for them. But I hope to learn from their faith and example. Today I am choosing to be happy and am counting my blessings - how about you?
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