Day 35
Thank God for Christmas. In the midst of all this anguish and cancer and worry and terror, there is the fact that today is December 1st... and thus, Advent begins. (Advent in the church, I am well aware, started last Sunday... but for the children who LIVE through the Advent calendar - today was THE day!) Our house elves arrived this morning with a flourish... hanging from the chandelier over the kitchen table and leaving gifts and notes, they did not disappoint the girls. Freddy, Fisher and Zoey arrived from the North Pole and there is actually nothing sweeter than the looks on the girls' faces when each one saw the elves and the gifts that had been left for them.
The wonderful thing for me is that I get to concentrate on doing things for the kids to make them happy. I get to create the magic of Christmas every night, with elf shenanigans and gifts and notes... treasure hunts and nutcrackers, winter ornaments and riddles... on deck is the North Pole breakfast for Christmas eve morning and the eve of St. Nicholas, when the girls leave their shoes out to be filled.
It fills my heart with happiness... and this year, I am so absorbed in the process, I have made a calendar. It isn't full yet- I have 3 and 1/2 weeks to figure it all out - but how GREAT for me to spend a half hour or more every day, thinking about how to make my kids happy.
For a half hour a night, I don't think about myself. I don't think about cancer or dying or metastases or friends who are fighting their own battles. I think about twinkling lights and practical jokes and funny things to write on tiny notes, hidden in the drawers of the Christmas house calendar, with trees and mailboxes missing from all the love over the years. For a half hour per night, I am fully MOTHER and nothing else and this makes my soul happier than anything else.
I love Christmas. I love the twinkling lights and the Christmas trees and decorating the house. I have 3 trees up and plans for one more... I have stockings lining the upper balcony and I am planning a North Pole winter scene, as one of Freddy's major reveals this year. But more than the things, more than the gifts and the "shenanigans", I love how Christmas makes me grateful for time spent together... time spent loving each other and being a family. This time is precious to me this year. I had a breakdown yesterday, thinking that possibly this would be my last Christmas. I lost my mind, and sobbed with the strength of whole-body despair, thinking about Meg making an Amazon.com wishlist for her three kids, knowing that she might be gone. I don't know - if I were in her shoes, would I ever want to sleep, for all that I would want to write down... I completely understand why she was making videos every few days, those first few days after her diagnosis. She wanted to be SEEN, to be KNOWN... she wanted to have a testament to the person she was and the life she was leading. Her kids will treasure those videos their whole lives, watching and trying to figure out the woman who was their mother, who left them too soon.
That is partly why I write this here, too. I want to be known ... I want a solid, concrete body of evidence, proving I am here, I am awake. I am thinking and planning and living. This life is NOW and it means something to me... and it is precious. My family and my love and the little world that I have created here is imperfect - but perfect for me... and it is enough.
I sit here... at midnight, at the kitchen table. The lights are off, but the Christmas bird tree lights glow... I can hear a train rumble by a couple miles down the road and my husband is cackling at some silly YouTube video in bed down the hall. My kids are asleep. Everyone is ok. I am SO LUCKY to have this life, cancer and all. I still have so much to learn, so much to do and be and so much love to give and joy to share... I am diving right into this life, right now... I am doing my best to savor every moment and to be fierce with my dedication to LIVE WELL... All I have is right now... Next week, next month, next year - nothing is guaranteed.
I wonder about my husband - how he is really doing. I wonder how lonely it must be to try and be on the other side of this - to watch me have my meltdowns, to see me cry and lose my shit, to wait in the patient family waiting room, while I am under anesthesia, having cancer surgery. I wonder how he is really doing... and yes, he will tell me... but maybe not all of it.
I wonder about the train down the road... and think about the conductor of that train, rolling down the tracks, away from his family, late at night, cold, on December 1st. Does he have kids? Does he have Christmas shopping to do? Does he have a mom or a dad or a brother who is suffering from cancer, or schizophrenia, or who has suddenly died from a heart attack a year ago and he never got to say goodbye??? I hope he is ok... this complete random stranger, rolling down the tracks in the middle of the night.
I am tired. My bed is calling me. Time will continue to roll, like the train... Freddy and his cousins will make some magic over here, and I will continue to write and live and think and BE.... Elf magic is happening. Christmas is coming. Thank God for Christmas, especialy this year.
xoxo