Wednesday, March 13, 2013


I've been told that I handled Bea's cancer with grace. That's a kind observation. From the inside looking out that's not how I saw things.

I saw every day as an opportunity. I still do. An opportunity for joy and sharing and love with my family. A day where I can do the things that I love the most. An exciting day or a peaceful day or a silly day. Many days were broken up so all of those moments were in the mix one after the other.

What is the point of being on this planet if you can't experience and share joy? Why sit around and complain about things that you really can fix? Why do we do things that are unsatisfying day in and day out and call that compromise? It's not compromise. It's unspirited and not joyful.

This opinion that I'm putting out there is not new to me and it didn't come to me after Bea got sick. Her illness cemented my resolve to never miss an opportunity for joy and to make sure that while she was alive that she didn't either. And, Lewis, too, of course.

Even today, after everything that our family has gone through, Lewis is the happiest little boy I know. He is five and STILL a bundle of joy. Those of you who know him understand what I mean. He is a happy, bouncing, laughing, silly, curious, entertaining little man who can't pass up a single chance for fun. And I don't want him to give up that love for life when he turns 6 or 16 or 60.

Bea won't have those chances again but at least she had a year. I feel for the parent who looses a child suddenly. Or the parent whose child becomes ill and never fully recovers. Bea had so many wonderfully healthy months and we filled them all with as much joy as we could fit. Knowing that gives me a lot of peace. I miss her terribly but she knows that and it won't change the amazing year she had before she died.

Monday, March 4, 2013

The Hard Part, Still

It's been over two months since Bea died and I'll admit that it is not one bit easier today. In many ways it's harder because it's been so long since I've seen her. I miss her more than ever.

If you have children it's hard to imagine them not returning from a weekend trip with their grandparents or not coming home from camp. You miss them but you know you'll get to hug them and spend time with them again. Your longing for their return will be satisfied.

I am not satisfied.

No amount of work or art classes or playing tennis or hanging with friends fills that void. It's all entertaining and I appreciate it but it's not what I need. And I can't have what I need.

This is where denial does you no good. Because I have no cute little foot to tickle in the car. Or long beautiful hair to brush before school. Or giggly hug-a-bug to love on all morning, afternoon and evening. Because that was what Bea gave me. When I need Bea I hit my wall of denial and crash right through it.

It's so incredibly painful.

This pain doesn't prevent me from doing the things I love to do and take care of Lewis and be with Chris. I am living a good life and appreciate everything I have. Losing Bea has motivated me to seize every opportunity for joy that am given and drives me to seek it out on my own. No regrets. Lots of tears but definitely no regrets.