It is with a heavy heart that I write this blog tonight. The familiar feeling of typing these words again fills me with sadness. We have been here before, but now we know we've tried everything. Mark did not achieve remission with the DTIL3 study so we are left with the hard reality that he will not recover from this disease.
As I wrote these very same words just over a month ago, I had a tiny bit of hope in my heart. I thought that maybe by some small miracle Mark would get through this. But it just hasn't happened that way. We are surprised, but not. We are sad and exhausted by thinking about what this means for our family and our kids' future.
After sitting with Mark this afternoon while he received red blood cells and platelets we forced ourselves to try and find some good in all this. After a few hours we decided that this can't all be for nothing. This completely unfair, horrible experience can't be just that. Something good has to come from it or it will all have been a waste. All the suffering will have been for nothing.
Now that we have experienced the hardships of life with cancer it is tempting to look for the why. Why me? Why Mark? Why my family? We aren't looking for some profound meaning from God or some higher source. We're not looking for the Why in all this because there is no reason for it. Mark didn't do anything to deserve this, it just happened. We are victims of circumstance and we just have to try to get through today.
Over the last few months we have asked Why many times. It seems so unfair. I don't admit that I am comforted by the fact that Mark has cancer just because. But I know in my heart that that there is no reason, it just is. I need to channel my energy and support towards my husband instead of wasting my time asking Why. I need to love my family with all the I've got to get through the next few months. Try to find something good about this whole mess so it's not all for not. If you look hard enough, you'll find it. Mark and I did.
I Am a Gen Z Employee Who Job Hops Every Two Hours
37 minutes ago
The few days we just spent with you, Leslie and the kids was just so right. Trevor and Pete feel the same. The home you've built is so warm and so welcoming; Audrey and Noah are the very epitome of adorable. For the better part of the weekend you each effortlessly made us forget the gravity of Mark's 'circumstance.'
ReplyDeleteIt feels almost like cheating that we would fly back east the day before you had to face this news.
So I wanted to tell you this:
I lost my dad to cancer six years ago. He was a massive Irishman who rarely showed his emotions. We'd never had much in common, and if it weren't for baseball (which I only pretended to like) we'd have had precious little to discuss. Not too long after he was diagnosed, my dad was confined to his home. At the end of a visit one evening, as I was getting ready to leave, I asked him when he'd like me to return. I'd meant: which days were better for him, more free of doctor and hospital appointments. My dad, the hard man who never asked for anything, looked up at me from the bed and replied, "Every day."
It would remain the only moment in his life that he let his guard down. My father would outlive the doc's prediction by more than a year, and while it's simplistic and even misguided to presume that I helped prolong his life, I do know I helped him during that time just by showing up.
Now, writing this is ripping my heart out, Mark. And it's not a reminder so you'll make the most of your time or hug your wife and kids. You already do those things instinctively.
My old man is surely shaking his fist at me from above, but I wanted you to know, Mark, that you're the most courageous person I've ever known. I'll see you and your family again. Lean on them, lean on us all. And let your guard down whenever you please. And then lean some more.
Love to you, Les, Audrey and Noah.
-Sean
As I read your latest blog, it brought tears to my eyes. I don't know what to say and I know that there isn't anything that I could say to make the situation better. Leslie you are definitley an inspiration to me. You are the epitome of strength. I feel a sense of hoplesness. As i cannot protect your family and change the outcome. It hurts to feel all that you feel.
ReplyDeleteRemember this: You've known times of testing before, and you've survived them. You can yet again. For the moment, draw upon the strength and the example of those who have persevered before you. Take their words to heart. Yes it's hard but you can do it. I know you can.
As over whelming as everything is, You can only cope with this new reality in doses. You will first come to understand it with your head, and only over time will you come to understand it with your heart.
I just wanted you to know that I am willing to walk this difficult road with you and face with you whatever comes.
Love you lots Leslie, Mark, Audrey and Noah
Glo
When I saw you at the Christmas concert yesterday, I had not read your latest entry. If I had, I would not have said a casual "How are you?" but instead have given you a huge hug. And Mark too although we have never met. Once again, my heart is hurting for you and your family. Although we hardly know eachother, I feel drawn and compelled to share with you my wishes of peace for you all.
ReplyDeleteErin Cormack
Mark, it's been a while since we last spoke, but please know that you're never far from my thoughts and prayers.
ReplyDeleteWishing you, Les, Audrey and Noah peace and love.
Ifoma