The moving truck has been in their driveway all day.
Six year old Tristan came sobbing to my bedroom a little while ago.
“The truck is in their driveway. My best friend is moving. I am so sad. I’m so very sad.”
I brought him into my bed and held him as he cried, hiccuping and shaking and hanging his head.
“I know you are sad,” I told him. “I’m sad they are leaving too.”
I told Tristan that he will still see Alex again before he leaves. He can write Alex a letter before he goes and we’ll be able to call him and even FaceTime him too.
I told Tristan I know it is hard when you have a friend leave you. I explained that what he is feeling means he loves Alex a lot.
I was crying too, tears running down my cheeks onto his shirt. I was crying for his pain over having a friend move away but I confess that’s not all I was crying about.
Tristan doesn’t fully understand why this hurts me so much.
I hurt because I can’t stand the thought of it…
I cannot help but wonder: if this is how he feels when a friend moves away, how will he cope when I go away forever?
I know my family will accept my death. There is no other way. But the fact I have to spend my days thinking about these things tears me apart.
I know the impact of the death of a parent is everlasting.
I know it is something you deal with but never get over.
I hate that I will do this to my children.
I hate that I cannot ever fully have this out of my mind.
I hate cancer.
But I love my family more.
Tristan, I’m doing everything I can to make that horrible day as far from now as I can. I don’t want to die and leave you, or Colin, or Paige, or Daddy, or Nana, or Grandpa, or Uncle Mark. I don’t want to leave my friends. I don’t want this life to end, and certainly not so soon.
But when that day happens and I do die, it is more than just about being what I want.
Not everything is in my control. If it were, we wouldn’t be where we are now. Trust me.
Wanting my life to be long, wishing for it, hoping for it… these things just aren’t enough.
Cell biology and tumor features and available treatments will have more to do with the length of the rest of my life than any wishes or hopes or dreams.
But I’ll still keep those wishes and hopes and dreams, sweetheart, because I won’t give up on you.