Horizon

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.”   ― Arundhati Roy

Jenny here.  A little update about April. 

Two years ago this past month, Wil was in between chemo-cations, still rebuilding coordination with his walking, sans eyebrows, and exhausted.  But like the Texas bluebonnets in the spring, he was back up and alive.  And on the very anniversary of that special day, we took a trip to Ennis this month with the pups and took a few photos of our own. 

In 2 weeks we will pick up our keys to our new, smaller life.  I cannot wait to nest in our new digs, one-third the size of where we live now. 

Quality over quantity.  For life, love, experiences, relationships, possessions.

Wil is doing great.  Medically counts are in the normal range, low end, but normal.  He saw his new PCP and the appointment went well.  We are being transitioned over there because he mostly has normal stuff now (monitor blood pressure and well being).  He will see his oncologist in May and then, wait for it…not again until his second anniversary of the transplant (October 2016).  Sure, he has a few other follow-ups with various specialists, but just routine follow-ups.  His neuropathy and chemo brain, still persist, but that man is a beast.  He’s trying his best, even if it takes a bit longer to process or get somewhere.  Admittedly, it’s hard for me to watch.  I know what he wants to do, what he used to do, and it kills me to see how much harder he works at things now.  It takes more energy and there is unresolved pain from all that high dose chemo that, like many cancer survivors, often persists indefinitely.  But he’s at the end of his first class since diagnosis.  He worked hard.

While I still often feel drained, and sometimes just break down and cry over the ash heap, I feel as though the purge of the household in prep for our move, is stirring things up in a healing way.  This move signifies so much more.  A few months ago, the thought of moving was so heavy.  It felt forced.  Cancer has broken us financially in way that will last quite awhile.  So downsizing to ease up on expenses, although the smart thing to do, was filled with yet another grief.  Then is changed from grief, to pops of sunshine and some hope, knowing we were doing the right thing.  I can’t lie and say I have moved through all of that heaviness, but the load…it’s lighter some days.  Losses (for me or just witnesses them for others) seem to kick me harder than they used to and deaths impact my heart more intensely.  Weighted.

A few weeks ago, during all the beginning stages of grief over my furniture I would need to sell, we watched the show Empire.  And this song, Good People, was performed.  And it so touched my soul in places that hadn’t been attended to in quite some time.  Sometimes healing comes in all forms and unexpected places.  Wil and I have listened to it now time and time again.  His face, serious.  Tears streaming down my face. 

“Sometimes it’s hard to pray/Sometimes it’s hard to stay grateful/It’s painful, hurts so bad/Sometimes it’s hard to breathe/Gets hard to keep goin’/We keep holdin’ on to what could have been

“But we’ll get by/We’ll see the light/In the morning it’s gonna be alright/The circumstance/Is in the plan/Even if we don’t fully understand/Why the bad thing happen to the good people


"Good People" from Empire:

 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xfvzJ-jDcz0

Our life is starting over, once again.  And we can’t wait to show you and share it as we unwrap and uncurl.  What will the next half of 2016 bring?  It’s so hard to say.  For Wil, he has a million ideas of what to do with this bonus time in his life.  For me, I am drifting along…go to work, come home to my favorite person and favorite furballs, cook, laugh, rest, cry all colored tears.  Repeat.

For both of us…the horizon.  Morning.  It seems to be getting closer every day.

Much Love.