I just want to see my son play baseball,
Watch him wave at me when he’s on base.
I just want to take my daughter shopping for makeup,
Applying powder to her porcelain skin.
I just want to read with my youngest one,
Snuggled up in bed together turning pages of a book.
I just want to grow old with my husband,
Continue to share our lives as we have for twenty-two years already now.
I just want to sit in the garden when we are old.
I just want to talk about the good old days.
I don’t want to read about mTOR inhibitors or side effects or months of disease-free progression.
I want to read beach fluff and skim through cheesy magazines.
I want to get a pedicure and have a nap in the chair.
I want choosing the color of my nail polish to be the toughest decision I have to make for a day.
I don’t want to read reports from the ASCO conference or tweets about new research findings.
I just want it to go away.
But it can’t.
It won’t.
I will never know another day of my life without metastatic cancer or chemo or treatment or dread.
But I will search for joy.
I will.
I will do what I can every day to find that joy,
And if I can’t find it I will make it.
This is my pledge,
This is my promise.
For them.
Some days it is hard to do.
Some days fear and sadness are too much.
Some days I do not know how I will do this with grace,
But I will try.
I must make the most of this time:
Helping others, educating, writing.
I know no other way to do this.
But it’s the hardest thing to do.
I cry, I give in to the emotions, but only for a few minutes.
No good can come from that.
I gather strength.
I re-commit.
I go on living.
The bad days will come someday.
But that day is not today.
That time is not now.
And so I am a parent, a wife, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a writer, and everything else I have been until now.
That is who I am.
That is who I will continue to be.
For as long as I possibly can.
Link to Twitter
Beautiful, Lisa. Thank you. K.
and you are extraordinary at all those things…
Always sending love.
Thank you Lisa. Your words say what so many of us are feeling.
I just want all of that for you, too.
Lisa,
Thank you so much for sharing yourself on your blog. You writing is so vivid and real, and you inspire me so much. Have you watched the SoulPancake mini documentary about Zach Sobiech? It is very moving – about 20 minutes long. I am in treatment (finished lumpectomy, chemo, halfway through radiation, started tamoxifen and get herceptin every 3 weeks through end of this year), albeit for Stage 1. I definitely am concerned about recurrence as I have two children. I definitely try to savor things more and focus more on who and what I care about. Many of my friends have said I inspire them. I don’t feel like I do; I just try to keep on finding joy (went through an unwanted divorce a few years ago after a long marriage, so have been processing that unwanted life change for quite some time. Like you said in an earlier post, we really can only control how we respond to what happens. I admire your courage, your daring to be vulnerable and most of all your honesty. You’ve been dealt a terrible hand and you are responding with such grace and dignity. I think of you and your family often and wish the very best for you. Amy
You are strong. And beautiful and so very, very graceful. You ARE grace.
There is always hope.
I want those things for you, too.
xo
Thank you for sharing your heartache and your struggle laid out so clearly on this page. Your love, disappointment, determination, grit and grace all shine through as you carry us along with your words. We never know what we are truly made of until we have to dig deep. There have been so many times I’d rather trade those hard earned lessons and go back to the innocent days of “before”. Again, thank you.
Wonderful writing. I could relate to everything you said. Unfortunately.
Beautifully written, Lisa. You speak for many who do not have the gift of time. And you continue to give part of whatever time you have left to ensure that others will understand what it’s like to live with this awful disease, both physically and emotionally.
I have tried to follow your oft-said mantra: Find some joy every day; if you can’t find it, create it. Even on the crappiest day, there’s some happiness somewhere, some reason to appreciate each day.
Lisa, you absolutely inspire me. Make me cry. Make me stop and live. xo
Lisa
You remind us that we should seek the same. Though I hate “shoulds”. I do let minutes, hours, days and weeks drift by. When I hear you I just want to give you some of mine. There is something not at all fair about that. Maybe someday we will figure that one out. In the meantime I hope you know how many people who you know and don’t know who would eagerly give you that gift of time.
Thank you for being you.
If we can’t find the joy we deserve, the joy we need, we will make it…LOVE that sentiment! Living with late stage cancer while raising your kids SUCKS. Waking each morning with “I am not curable but I am treatable” resounding in the recesses of your mind SUCKS. Still, “I am happy and I am healthy” continues to be my mantra…and I will fake it until I make it. Thank you for your eloquent words!
Lisa, I don’t know how you find the inner strength to do what you do. I don’t think I could handle what life has thrown at you the way you do. I’ve lived through some really rough times in my almost 72 years but never a terminal illness. So, I can’t really relate but still when I read all your blogs, I feel almost as though I’m living it with you. How I wish that I could breathe more life into you, give you more quality time with your loved ones but I can’t. I can only pray that if, God forbid, I ever have to face what you are facing, I do it with the grace that you are. You truly are a gift to your family & all those with whom you are sharing your life’s struggles. God bless you dear one.
I just want it to go away too.
xoxo
Beautifully written. I recognise every word you wrote.
Lisa, you send it FOR ME! I am in the boat with you and I want it to go away but it won’t.
Thank you for expressing these words to the world. This piece is a keeper for my family, forever.
Be well every day, all day long.
Thank you. Thank you so much. Your writings are such a gift. Wishing you many moments of joy.
The clarity of your writing is beautiful. As the others have said you continue to inspire with your honesty.
Yes, you are the epitome of grace.
I also wish you joy.
Of course you do! And, yes you will!
I hope that you find some joy – or joy finds you, every single day, for as long as you possibly can.
Wishing you much peace, joy & love
Yes, I love it when the hardest decision of the day is something meaningless, like which color socks to wear.
Lisa, a lot of cancer drugs have ringing in the ears as a side effect. Is this something you experience?
http://www.buzzfeed.com/joycecohen/noise-kills-when-everyday-sound-becomes-torture
What Becky said. A long, long, long time to make new memories and talk about the good old days, that’s what I want. xo
I have a 12 year old son who plays Little League and they are in the thick of post season tournament play. Last night they won and secured their spot in the championship game this Saturday. Last night at the ballpark I watched my son, who plays catcher, throw out a guy stealing second just winging that ball from his crouch behind the plate and nailing it and saw on his face the sheer 12 year old boy, in the moment joy of playing the sport he loves. I saw the goofy crooked grin of the red-headed shortstop as he turned a double play, and the rock- steady calm of our ace pitcher as he threw fastball strike after fastball strike. And just loving every darn boy on that team and how present they all were. And I thought of you and all your tweets about your son playing baseball and how much you love to be there and watch. And when I saw this post this morning, oh how it got to me. And I love your fierce determination to find the joy. Keep writing, Lisa.
This is so beautifully expressed and speaks the heart of a mom with metas tic breast cancer. I’m crying from reading and recognizing the wish for a ‘normal’ life. I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer 3 years ago when my kids were 1, 5 and 13. Every day with them is a blessing.
Lisa, I traveled with you through all of the beautiful things you want to do with your children and your husband. Your writing is so incredible and powerful. In the face of so much known and unknown, you still say you will search for joy. And with good days and bad days, you take notice of a good day. I hope your joyous days outweigh the tough ones. You are awesome. xoxox- Susan
But I will search for joy.
I will.
I will do what I can every day to find that joy,
And if I can’t find it I will make it.
This is my pledge,
This is my promise.
For them.
Some days it is hard to do.
Some days fear and sadness are too much.
Some days I do not know how I will do this with grace,
But I will try.
I must make the most of this time:
Helping others, educating, writing.
I cry, I give in to the emotions, but only for a few minutes.
No good can come from that.
I gather strength.
I re-commit.
I go on living.
The bad days will come someday.
But that day is not today.
That time is not now.
And so I am a parent, a wife, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a writer, and everything else I have been until now.
That is who I am.
That is who I will continue to be.
Lisa, you are such an inspiration to me!
Such beautiful words … made me cry …. I have tried to lock all the shit that goes with breast cancer away in my head … sometimes I let it out but I find it all too consuming … I feel for your situation so much … I can not pretend to know how you feel as at the mo I’m ok …. but it petrifies me to think about leaving my family …. but it’s so much more real for people like us ….it just seems so unfair …. Hope the weekend brings some relief for you …
Kate Gay x