The Odd Day

As time goes by, I wonder what makes up a good day and what makes up a bad one. During this process I am confronted with both, and at times can feel overwhelmed with the moment. I know in my heart that it is completely natural but I can't help but wonder if anyone else in the world has felt like me. Sadly, I know the answer is yes but it doesn't soften the longing I feel for a life I once had.

It is difficult to imagine that this could have happened to my happy little family. Who knew that a persistent sore throat and a few fevers would bring me here to today. I have trouble believing all that has happened over the last 17 months. It is a story that one reads about, I never thought I would be writing about it.

When I look back at the horrible circumstances that have been dealt to me I feel differently about it at different times. Depends on the day, but there is an overall feeling of disbelief still. I hope for a time that things will feel normal again but it seems a long way off. As the days trickle by, I hope that my appreciation for the fragility of life will outweigh my disappointment in what could have been.

There is the odd day that my disbelief takes a back seat and I feel fortunate or even lucky to have made connections with a few special people. I would venture that if all of this had never happened I would still be close to these special friends, but their unconditional love and support for me reminds me how lucky I am. As I get older, I have come to realize that it is rare to come across more than one or two people like this in a life time. The kinds of friends who are there for you and more. People who reach out when no one else knows what to do. When I catch myself appreciating these extraordinary people, I can feel in my heart that one day I will be okay. I consider myself lucky to be able to think of a half dozen people right now in my day to day life that fall into this category. For that, I am truly thankful.

For now, for tonight, I will ride this wave of appreciation I feel for my friends. It can be as simple as a long meaningful chat on the phone, but it is friends like you that remind me that sometimes it's easier to be grateful than sad.

Brighter Stars and Crisper Days Ahead

It's a beautiful sunny crisp day in Kanata. You can feel autumn nipping at the heels of summer waiting for it's chance. As I sit here with a hoodie and shorts on at my desk, I am surprisingly aware of the change in season. I have often read that those who are grieving are more in tune to what's happening in nature. Just last night as I was closing my windows I noticed the stars and how bright they seemed. The air seems crisper and the clouds more fluffy today. I guess the books are right.

Being back in Ontario has been full of mixed emotions for me. Through out the summer, I have been relieved to have the cottage to go and spend time at. The kids have had a wonderful time but as summer draws to a close I am reminded of all the milestones that lie ahead. All summer long the kids have grown and matured in ways that I still can't believe. Noah speaks in full sentences now. He sits at the table without a booster seat and is almost potty trained. Audrey learned to swim with her life jacket and swims right out to the raft. To some, these little things are just part of growing up. But to me, they are bittersweet to witness. As Audrey is yelling "Look at me Mummy, I'm swimming!!!" I want in my heart to be as excited as her, but I can't chase away the thought of Mark missing it all.

Mark was such an involved Dad. While other moms were going to baby group and on their own, Audrey and I were lucky enough to have Mark with us. Working at The Keg made for some long nights but having Mark around in the mornings was great. We all had breakfast together, went to play group together and he was there for Audrey and Noah's first steps and other baby milestones. I always thought it was so neat that I got to hang out with my hubby in the day.

Now with Fall just around the corner we're coming up to Audrey's first day of school. This will be the first of many big milestones that the kids and I will do on our own. I remember when Mark relapsed he told me there were two things he wanted to experience; Audrey starting kindergarten and Noah talking. All Mark wanted was to hear our son say "I love you." I can't imagine how he must have felt knowing that these simple pleasures were being taken from him by his disease. Noah did start to talk right before Mark got really sick so it gives me some comfort that he got to really communicate with Noah. Not just repeating back as toddlers do.

Another event that is fast approaching is the Light the Night Walk that Mark and I participated in last year. It was such an amazing day. Early that morning Mark was suffering from severe bone pain due to the leukemia and couldn't even get out of bed. I raced around town looking for a wheelchair for him because he wanted to walk the 5kms with us. Only hours later, he recovered from the pain and actually walked the whole 5kms on foot. I was always amazed at Mark's ability to overcome the obstacles that leukemia threw his way. This year I am fundraising in his memory. It will be difficult to do without him, but I know how strongly he felt about making a difference. If you'd like to help, come visit my Light the Night page and make a donation or join the team and come and walk. It was a life changing night for me last year and I would love to share it with you.

To donate:
http://www.active.com/donate/ltnvan/2103_lallanLTN

To join Team Mark Allan and walk or fund raise yourself: http://teams.lightthenight.org/TeamMarkAllan

Choices

The last trip I ever took with Mark was August long weekend last year. We were celebrating his recovery and getting in a quick trip before we both had to go back to work. My parents had flown in to help us with the kids, as they had so many times that year and we decided at the last minute to go to Whistler. In all the years we had lived out west, we had never taken the time to go to one of the most beautiful places in Canada. We were both so excited to finally have some time alone together. I remember us both being pretty giddy and excited as we drove off for our first weekend away from the kids. We were the ones who felt like kids that day. I remember so many details of that weekend. It doesn't feel like it was a year ago.



We stayed at the Pan-Pacific and loved it. The rooms were luxurious, the people were friendly and we got hooked on the AVEDA bath products they supplied in the rooms. I washed my hair this morning with the same rosemary-mint shampoo I used that weekend. Both Mark and I loved the smell so I bought it for us to use at home. A small fortune for shampoo and conditioner but it's amazing how great memories can be triggered by such a simple thing.


Mark and I did the touristy things you do when you go to Whistler. Shop, eat in restaurants, drink beer in the middle of the day. The whole weekend seemed to fall together effortlessly. I had planned to go for a massage at the Pan and then the girl at our hotel gave me a local tip on a great inexpensive place to go. She saved me over 100$. Then, the girl who gave me the massage also just happened to work on the mountain and gave me two day passes for the gondola. It felt like people were being extra nice to us. Complete strangers who knew nothing about us. There were other things too. Someone told us about some "secret" parking in the village and saved us 25$ a day, and Mark got a tee time at a golf course where people book weeks in advance. I remember Mark saying that it felt too good to be true that night while we had drinks at a local cafe. Looking back now, it was the calm before the storm.



It's funny how you can remember such small details about a time or a place you have been. It's like your mind was already programmed to remember it as one of your "lasts". I never thought that would be my last trip with the love of my life. I really thought, we both thought, we were just getting started. Noah and Audrey were at an age then that we felt comfortable leaving them and I just really thought it was the beginning.


I looked back at the blog I posted that weekend and it was titled "More than Surviving". The optimism I had when I wrote that post was a dangerous one to carry. Mark's future was really uncertain even though he was in remission. The survival rate of AML is less than 50%, but we both chose to accept the odds and hope for the best. I have come to believe that the choices we make as we get thrown all these obstacles is what determines our future. Some people crumble, some people wallow and some stumble and fall but then they get up. If I had never had a reprieve from cancer and never got a weekend away with Mark, I might be one of those who doesn't want to get up. But I know in my heart that I need to. For me, our August long weekend trip represents a time of happiness and freedom that we so desperately needed. So with this great memory to look back on, I will try my hardest to do what Mark so graciously did. Choose to LiveStrong.