When we, as self-described survivors, yak about the life we have had living with this cancer thing, we often refer to dancing at our children's wedding, the decisions we made to prioritize life, the good times and the tough times we've had to overcome. We sometimes have a subtle, lingering shadow of a fear that "it" might come back. Today becomes precious...
I tend to mark August as the time I was diagnosed, two decades ago. This year I think of Bip Bip Bip, the first blog post (January 2014) I ever made and how a pulsing heartbeat has changed my life. The ultrasound dancing blob has now become my 9 months old grandson, Connor.
I got to be a full time Nana when his Mom and Dad took a holiday. Connor is crawling and gaining speed. He has opinions. He is active and feisty. Me - I'm 69, not even close to my 20's when I had my children. The joy of caring for Con is fuelled by Tylenol and coffee. Weight lifting is replaced by baby lugging up and down stairs. Stretching is replaced by wrestling an anaconda into fancy diapers and loading the squirmer into the Jolly Jumper and then extracting him.
Creative crafts are replaced by trying out acceptable food combos, wiping up after rejection of said food combos, then dealing with the resultant "trouser treasures." Calming two terrible terriers, hysterically happy with the high chair anarchist tossing cheerios with abandon is a funny exercise - in futility.
I do think evil thoughts about the Canadian banishment of baby walkers. American children seem happy to amuse themselves exploring their world. What Canadian government wit decided that our Canadian kids and parents aren't smart enough to use them? Their TQ (tiredness quotient) was always appreciated.
At the end of the day, post splashdown, I know that music took a back seat to listening for squalls, that my book club novel was replaced by Goodnight Moon and This Little Piggy Went to the Market played on wee toes and performed multiple times. I realize that I forgot to eat lunch and that I really need to use the bathroom. And, gloryosky - he's asleep!
I'm so glad I'm a survivor and I wouldn't want to have missed one moment of the most fun I've had in decades.