The Great Wrap Up
I’ve been giving the winding down of this blog a lot of thought over the last week. I realize, after lots of soul searching and more than a few chats with Ana, that the blog was as much about me as it was about Ana. I mean, I guess that’s not news.
But where Ana just wants to see it shut down because it’s a painful reminder of a very painful year, I’m having a hard time letting go. So, I’m going to try to update the blog as much as possible before we draw the blinds and shut it down.
I’m grappling with the idea of cutting off a source of tremendous support and, to be honest, I’m afraid of being alone in my own head again. There’s a shadow over my life now that was probably always there, but I didn’t see it. I now know that shit can go really, really wrong and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
I think that’s a lesson that cancer taught me – that I can never let my guard down. I can never relax. It’s just the truth. Maybe it’s not even a bad lesson because it means I don’t take things…moments…for granted as much as I used to.
Now that Ana is a transplant recipient, no fever or flu or headache will ever be something I can simply shrug off as a benign childhood illness. Even if that’s what it is.
A friend of mine shared with me that her son had cancer when he was about twenty. He’s now in his thirties, has a family and has been in remission for years, but whenever he’s tired or has a cold or looks a little thin, she’s just as worried as that moment when she first found out.
I know it’s important to move on. Ana already has – she’s embraced these normal, healthy days without looking back (the way that only a child can). She doesn’t understand why I’m sometimes distracted by what was. She wants me to forget about it and move on because now she’s fine. Now she’s not in the hospital with doctors hovering over her every minute, so why do I need to dwell?
And that is smart, sound logic that I can’t really argue with. This is her life. Her health. Her choice to shut the door on this dialogue with tragedy that I’ve kept up for nearly a year and, as her mother, I have to respect that.
We’re going to password protect the blog before she starts school in September. In the meantime, I’ll wrap things up with some posts that are meant to keep you updated on how she’s doing (very good, as of now), and drag out the good-bye a little bit longer. I sometimes see you when I’m out shopping (which is often), or at the pool, or in the karate dojo and I know I’m withdrawn and shy. I’m sorry for that – it’s easier for me to write than to talk sometimes.
Please know that I am so grateful for all of you who have reached out to me with email, comments, Facebook messages and smiles when I see you around town. I’m working on a book which should be done this month (and then it needs editing). If it ever, ever, ever gets published, then it will be the next step in me reaching out to tell this story…in a very different way.