One year ago today, the day after Melvin’s birthday, I took Melvin for a ultrasound at a specialist and heard the words ‘I have terrible news, I’m so sorry’ followed by, ‘…probably only days’, when I asked how long he had.
The days that followed were the some of the most impossible moments I have known. Those weeks when the prognosis was ‘any moment’, I was grasping at time, and love and air… I never knew how dark the night could be. I spun, out of control. I was afraid to leave him. I tried so hard to hold onto him and love him.
The knowledge of pending death is confusing and overwhelming and terrible and sad and you are forced into mourning, before the death even occurs. One year ago, we weren’t given good news, much time, or any treatment options. But we were given love. So much joyful love. And that love is everything and trumps anything and everything we weren’t given. Seriously people, there are no guarantees. We suggest love. Love is a solid plan. Seek love, give love, love love. Create reasons for others to love, high five love, shower in love. Let love own you and guide you and let it light up all the darkness.
Love can get help you through. Love can heal you. Love lives on.
Melvin was diagnosed a year ago – Jake was diagnosed 19 days ago. 8,328 hours separate the words ‘he has cancer’ between them. Brothers in life. Brothers in death. Brothers in cancer. These two have an odd sense of timing and really take their bond to the extreme!
Thankfully, last March does not define all the others. It does not represent this March. Even though we are embarking on a cancer journey at the same time this year, we have opportunities we did not have last year. Last March is over. This March has just begun.
“Hey, psssst, lets get cancer one year apart.” “Ok, sounds fun!”