The Moments I Have Missed

Protecting the burnt skin on my neck.

I left my family vacation in Colorado to fly home alone for an immediate biopsy.

On his second birthday my baby boy woke up at his grandparent’s house because I was only two days out from surgery.

Even though my neck could hardly hold my head upright, I tried my first bites of food on my daughter’s 7th birthday.

My partner teacher moved into my classroom over the summer as I wouldn't be returning on the first day of school. Instead, it was my first time in public to walk my big boy to his kinder classroom.

By my sons 6th birthday, my girlfriend’s helped me prepare for his day. They baked a cake, cleaned the house, decorated, and brought food. I did a lot of sitting.

The weekend of the Boss Mom Retreat in San Diego, a weekend I had planned for 9 months, was spent recovering from chemo.

The Lighthouse Academy came and went as I prepared for chemo #2.

During the PLIDA conference (where my book sold out at the bookstore even without me there) I had excruciating radiation burns my mouth.

I watched two adorable Power Rangers head to Grammie and Grandpas Halloween party as I slept the entire time they were gone.

Reid had two soccer games this weekend but I had to save my energy for the drive to Kaiser for chemo labs.

I have missed so many things I had planned, looked forward to and wanted to be part of. I have cried when the house became empty after the boys left and I was alone.

The daily pain is indescribable and has been left unsaid because it’s personal and I need to focus on rest and recovering not complaining about something I cannot change.

So I rest. And I recover. And I remind myself that the best-laid plans are the ones that life laughs at and that all of this is temporary.

Tomorrow I have my final chemo. FINAL. As in, I am almost done. A few more days of life put on hold before my body can start the healing process.

There will be more days of missed events, of days that I wish I could be part of, but in the grand scheme of being alive, these small sacrifices are worth it. There will be more retreats and conferences and soccer games and Halloween parties.

Because I put life on hold now, there will be more life to live and THAT makes it all worth it.

I am sad to have missed these moments, but there are so many more moments left to live for and because I am CURING this cancer, I will be here to experience them.

One FINAL chemo. Warrior on.

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