“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” – John Lennon
Everything was going along so nicely. My husband and I were spending quality time together. I was totally caught up at work. I had time everyday to write and post on the blog. I had a whole list of things to be grateful for. Then the wheels came off. Stuff at the office began to pile up. Our weekends filled up with endless work around the house. My elderly aunt arrived for a ten day stay and I suddenly had a five foot two willful toddler to contend with. We have house guests coming this weekend that I am not prepared for. My writing time dried up and blew away. Nothing was working out as I planned. My stress level was reaching DEFCON I. Then suddenly this afternoon, it all was just noise.
My husband called to tell me that his son has four new tumors. Matt is his only child. He’ll be 29 this February. Five years ago he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. He underwent several rounds of chemo and then a bone marrow transplant and, thank God, went into complete remission. This past Spring, four months shy of his fifth anniversary of remission, they found a tumor in his colon. He had surgery and the tumor and part of his colon was removed. More chemo. He seemed to be doing better. This past week, he wasn’t feeling well. He cancelled dinner with us on Sunday. Today was his regular check-up. He had a PET scan and bingo – four new tumors. They are inoperable. They admitted him and he starts chemo again tomorrow.
I have no children of my own. I have no idea of what my husband is feeling now. I can guess at it. I know him and I know how much he loves his son. But I don’t know what it feels like to think you might lose your child. I listened to Lennon’s “Beautiful Boy” today. Matt is a grown man but he is still my husband’s boy. Nothing has worked out the way he thought it would I’m sure. All I can do is be there for him. He’s focused on Matt; I’m focused on him. He will pour all his energy on supporting Matt; I’ll pour all my energy on supporting him. Matt doesn’t need me now, he needs his Dad. But his Dad needs me. I’ll be there.