The 25%

There are a lot of statistics about the success of relationships when one partner becomes seriously ill. Numerous people have actually said to me, "I don't know how you do it. It must be so hard to stay."

Yep. It's hard to stay but it would be harder to leave. When the thought creeps in of how easy it would be not to deal with this disease...I remember that life wasn't easy before this happened to us either. To measure the success of a relationship based on how easy or difficult it is, is pointless in the big scheme of things.

You must know sorrow to understand and embrace joy. Opposition in all things, is what makes us grow and reach beyond what we think we are capable of at the time.

Scott and I have been married for 17 years. All of them hard in one way or another. We don't live a fairy tale life by any means. We have fought, literally, to stay together. Every time the world says, "Why do you stay?" We show them and we grow stronger.

I read the other day that 75% percent of couples who have one spouse diagnosed with a serious illness, mental, physical, or terminal, do not stay together. Not because one spouse dies, but because one, or both leave the relationship. I wondered if this is really true.

Being sick or sharing a life with someone who is, to say the very least, is difficult on many levels for many reasons. No one is sheltered from a life altering diagnosis. It changes everything, and many people, it seems, don't have the ability to accept and grow with what comes.

The words to describe something so difficult don't come easy. Finding hope and hanging on when everyday seems more hopeless than the next, can be terrifying and exhausting. Giving up does seem easier at times, but giving up doesn't solve the problem.

At the end of the day, Scott still has brain cancer. I wish every moment of every day that he didn't, but he does. There is not much he or I can do to change that, outside of treatment and hope. The only way to win the war is to keep marching forward, so that's what we do. Right, wrong, or indifferent. We keep fighting.

We fight with each other. We have bad days. We struggle with depression, sadness, anger, and guilt. We feel sorry for each other and for our kids. This was not the way we planned to live our lives.

The way I see it, we have some options. We can leave...and he still has brain cancer. We can fight and argue, and guess what? He still has cancer. We can feel defeated and frustrated, letting all the negative in and surround us in it's unfairness...

Or

We can find ways to be thankful for the time we have together. We can embrace the life we have and make the best of it. We can keep our chins up and remember in the moments when it is hard, why we love each other in the first place and wanted to have a life together.

I say this all the time, nothing about this is easy. But I have come to realize that isn't true. Living with Scott, is easier than living without him. I know this. Some days are just brutal, no matter who you are or what you face.

Getting to have love in my life is something I cannot take for granted, no matter how hard it is to keep going. I won't just walk away because this isn't what I signed up for. The hope is, neither will Scott.

Days are getting better and better as time and healing goes on. We take them as they come and do our best. The thing I work on most is forgiving myself for the moments when I feel myself breaking. The moments I am so angry about the things I have to do now and the life I am still mourning, the times when I feel weak and afraid of what will be.

But they are usually just moments. I find if I can let them be and move through those times and not take up residence there, I can forgive myself and get on to something more productive.

I have learned, that even in suffering, love can shine through. When my faith fails me, I look for love and whenever I see it, there is hope waiting to be found right along with it. I don't know what the future brings, but I do know that the 25% of us who  make it through without leaving...

Are all in the best of company. Hopes finds those who look for it.

"It Is What It Is"

"It is what it is." Seriously, what does this mean? We all hear it. We see this saying everywhere. I say it on a pretty regular basis myself. As I try and put this into the context of my life and what is going on right now, it makes me feel and sound seriously delayed. Like DUH!

Here's what I mean.

"I think this is a most likely a mid-grade glioma." If I repeat said catch phrase, "Well, it is what it is." We still don't know what the heck IT is! You can look it up. It's potentially "brain cancer" although we've been told several times they don't use that term to describe what they are looking at on the MRI. It's a lesion. A brain lesion. A tumor. A glioma. What it is, is....A big, old, fat, stinking pain in the neck, or rather, head! It's a "cause for serious concern because it isn't holding tight. It's growing. It looks as though it's increased in size in the last 5 months. We will most likely need to react and remove what we can, biopsy the tissue to determine the grade of malignancy and treat the rest with radiation and chemo."

This was our latest neurology appointment. We made the 200 mile round trip drive to the neurosurgeon and again left with no definite answers, only more questions. There is no way to know if this is a benign tumor, or not, without surgery. The doctor presented Scott's case to the "tumor board" on Tuesday morning and called us with their recommendations. We will wait for another MRI  and one more appointment on the 5th of January to determine when or "if" surgery will be scheduled.

My emotions are mixed and it's hard to understand exactly where we are in this process from day to day, still. Scott says he is fine. And maybe he is.  I don't want to speak for him. I can only imagine how difficult this all is for him, because it's devastating to me.  He assures me he isn't going to die. "It's all going to be fine. This is just a hiccup and we'll get back to it soon as we can." He's awesome with telling me what I want to hear and helping me try to avoid "worrying too much."

On our way home, he literally turned and said to me, "I guess it is what it is."

"What the hell does that even mean?" I shouted with tears in my eyes.
He threw his hands in the air and confirmed, "I don't know!"
"Why do we even say that?" I sobbed.
 "I have no idea." He whispered.

There is nothing else to say when someone is right. So we rode in silence for long time. He reached over and held my hand and all I could think was, "It is what it is and I can't change this no matter how much I want to."

Giving up control, is not easy for a control freak like me. I want everything in my world,  at the very least, to have the appearance of being under control and well cared for. This is where I find comfort. Pretending all is well, even when I know it isn't. I do know how ironic and superficial this is. It is what it is.

There are many more hills to climb, more tears to shed, more anger to express, and the cycle of grief to live and re-live. I am no where near acceptance. I don't want this in my life, and more importantly I don't want this, AT ALL for Scott. Who in their right mind would choose this?  I am obviously not in control. No matter how sad, sorry, angry, frustrated, afraid, grief stricken, and hurt I am...it will not change the fact that there is a tumor of some sort, causing seizures and headaches, growing inside the man I love. And I can't do anything about it.

So I sit and contemplate how best to show my love and undying support. I take in as much positive psychology as I can. I practice courage. I practice being kind to myself and kind to my family. I practice patience. Notice I say "practice." That is the hardest part of all. Patience...has been an extremely hard lesson for me all my life. But I have come to understand the serenity of the things out my control and knowing that what I can't change, I must live with in one way or another. It's completely up to me to decide how to live with all of this.

I'm not good at pretending. So I don't usually do it. When I do try, I don't usually succeed. I'm a, wear my emotions on my sleeve, kind of gal. If you see me with a smile, it's because I genuinely have something to smile about. My heart is a bit more heavy today than it's been in awhile but I still find reasons to smile. Even if I have to pretend I'm not dying inside. I am not sure what IT is, exactly that will bring me comfort. I'm not sure what IT is that I need because what I want, I can't have.

It's impossible to know what to do because there isn't really anything to do.... but wait for the doctor to say what he thinks is the best course of action and then to see what Scott wants to do. I know he will do what he thinks is best. I really wish we could just do nothing and keep on going like everything is as fine as it appears. I'm completely okay, in this moment, to pretend and think I can get away with it.

A stupid brain tumor. That is what it is. I know I can't really pretend it's anything else. I've tried. I don't have any hard and fast answers for why, how to stop it, or change anything about it at this point.  Yes, there is a treatment. There is a glimmer of hope that we can beat this for good. So for now, what it is, is....we are holding on for the ride and doing our best to keep hunting for the kind of hope that will keep us from drowning in uncertainty.

The Ebb and Flow of Grief is the Essance of Hope

To write a blog and share with the world, or the one or two of you who are reading this, is quite an interesting thing for me. It started as a way to keep family and friends updated on Scott's condition so I wouldn't have to text the same thing 100 times or answer email and phone calls to give information about what is going on in the middle of handling a bazzillion other things. And let's face it. I'm emotional. It gets old to hear, "How are you doing?" When the real answer is far more complicated than most people want to hear in the moment.

As the months have passed and my  husband's "condition" has neither changed or worsened, people have gone on about their lives, becoming less and less interested in the day to day of the Cooley's. It's not that interesting, I know..we live it. So even though my initial need has changed, I still find myself with a need to write. Not because there is anything compelling or spectacular, but rather the contrary. It's all just really regular. I suppose if I'm being really honest, and you already know I am... I just want someone somewhere to know that life, where ever you live it or what you have going for you or don't,  is hard for everyone. Brain tumors or not.

No matter the circumstances we face, there seems to be a big scheme to see what we can learn, how we need to learn it and what we are going to do with what we have in front of us. I do know there is a purpose. The clear message that's been given to me through this,  has opened my eyes and changed my perspective about how I'm choosing to face all of life's challenges from here on out.

We seem to go through all the emotions of life, in whatever capacity we do, to be faced with ourselves and to struggle with ourselves, in an effort to create something from nothing. And sometimes, the only purpose for our grief or pain is literally to help someone else learn something. We are, (okay maybe this is just me)  complete narcissists because we often think there must be something in it for us. Why else would this be happening? Why else indeed.

I don't know about you. but I create all kinds of happy places and good intentions for myself on a regular basis. Mostly, to give myself a break from whatever hard thing is staring me in the face at the moment. There is so much pressure to be a certain way, have a certain lifestyle, eat the right diet, exercise the right amount, pin the most popular posts, or create the most shared, like, pinned, tweeted, instagramed statuses and what have you. I'm not there by any measure of the world's current standards.

But the minute I begin pulling out the invite list to my pitty party, I realize it's a pretty short list. And I don't want pitty anyway. Remember those "How are you?" statements complete with frowny faces, make me simply crazy. So pitty, please...

I know no matter what happens, that in the end I'm not stuck here in grief or pain. I am not forced to live a life of unhappy endings. I can chose to dip my toe back in  and go as gradually as I need to  and go with the full force of life, or I can sit back and wait for it come for me. Because now matter which way I chose, it will come. The ebb and flow of grief, or any human emotion is that way for a reason. Once it comes back to us, or we get back to it, we can take a bit more, go a bit farther, get a bit stronger and last a bit longer each and every time.

That seems so much more merciful than to be forced to  soak in all the required learning all at once. Anyone who's ever been  student of anything, knows that isn't how true learning occurs. Line upon line. Precept upon precept. This is a true universal concept, no matter what your personal or spiritual beliefs are. The universe is set up in such a magnificent way, to keep bringing things around, in it's own time and when it is right for us to learn, so we have infinite chances to  discover, over and over again. So we can take in the relevant bits we need in that moment and apply them in a logical way.

It's the only explanation that makes sense for all the seemingly senseless things we humans have endure on a regular basis. What I've discovered is the ebb  and flow is the very essence of what breeds hope. Without this coming and going, there would only be absolutes. No hope. No faith. No real growth. Only believing in what we see, and never really understanding ourselves or each other on a deeper level. There would be no benefit of the doubt, no wait and see, no real discoveries.

Will things be hard? You betcha. Will life always be what we want or how we want it? Nope, not even close for most of us. Life really does seem so unfair if you look only at events and circumstances. When we can see the bigger picture,  often only through adversity,  is when we are open to understanding a master plan at work that involves us having many more chances to grow stronger, help others, be better, do better, and LIVE a full life. No matter how long we've got.

It's Offically Hunting Season

As our 8th month begins living with a brain tumor and deciphering what exactly is involved with that, I am reminded of several things.

First of all, February was brutal. Excruciating actually. As I stood there, screaming over my husband while he was having a Grand-Mal seizure, I kept thinking, "What if this is it? What if I never see him again?" I know I've said it before. But it was a big what if for me. In the 3 days we spent in the hospital, 2 of those days, the Scott I knew was not totally present. He did not recognize me. He did not recognize his own children. He knew he was in the hospital and did not want to be there. He knew he had to get out before someone told him he was never leaving. It was awful, gut-wrenching in fact. And then, just like that....he suddenly woke up. With the help of one of his best friends and reminders of the thing he loves to do most in this world, he was back.

Hunting... 

They talked and talked about hunting trips, and the things they have seen and done. They discussed stuff that seemed unimportant and irrelevant to my life as I knew it. And yet, it was this very stuff that literally seemed to be bringing him back to his own consciousness. Maybe it was me just me or his wishful thinking, but I thought I could literally smell gunpowder in the air. The smiles, the laughter, and the genuine love radiating in that room that night, was phenomenal. Scott was somehow able to breathe into his own soul the very parts of life that give his own so much meaning. It was quite literally a miracle to me. But how could I have been so oblivious to the importance of hunting, in my husband's life? How could I not know it was the very thing he actually lives for? I had said it, in jest, but didn't actually know it was true until that very moment.

Hunting has been  a source of a lot of contention in our home for many years. Not because I am against it, but because I simply did not get exactly what this really means to him. I saw hunting as a very expensive and time consuming distraction and a means to get away from the daily grind, to be a kid again and hide out in the woods and be naughty, without judgement or responsibility. I really viewed it as just a mancation with a reason to go out and kill something.

I didn't get it.  Maybe because I'm not a man and I'm just not wired the same. I don't feel the need to stalk and kill something. I don't enjoy blood and guts. I'm perfectly fine with the evolution of the grocery store and all the conveniences of modern society. I like sleeping inside where it's temperature controlled, in a nice, soft, fluffy, comfy bed up off the ground. I like bathrooms that don't smell and are enclosed for my privacy. I like getting my food already prepared to cook and eat. Call me crazy or spoiled. I'm okay with it.  I am probably the reason for all the problems of the modern world. I love the mall. I like shopping. I like the city, I'll have all of it please, with a side of lazy.

I can't help it. I am allergic to anything primitive. I did not camp or fish, or garden, or farm, or any of those things as a kid. I didn't learn to love or respect hunting it as a child and as an adult, I have been forced in a sense, to tolerate it. I have many reasons for being adverse to this whole "getting back to nature" thing. Not because these are not good things, but because I didn't recognize the significance and didn't have a reason to until now. It only took one night in the hospital with my husband and his friend, to literally erase all the ill will I had towards hunting and give me reason to be okay with getting back to basics.

Now, I want to fully comprehend what hunting is really all about. I need to understand why this was the thing that brought my husband back to us. As I was watching Scott and his brother Larry, pack up the truck to leave yesterday, it really hit me hard.  I stood there, my eyes welling up with tears I could not control, thinking...this almost didn't happen. How miserable would he really be and how much worse of a situation would we have here, if he could never do this again? To loose a career is nothing in comparison to the thought of never being able to hunt again. "Just kill me" is his response to that.

I was overcome with gratitude that Scott was able to be packing his truck up and actually going on his annual hunting trip. My heart was overflowing that his brother would fly in just to go along and not to hunt himself. I could not hold back my emotions, although I tried really, really hard. Scott looked back at me once the truck was full and asked if I was okay. I said, "Oh yeah. My allergies are really bad today for some reason and my eyes won't stop watering this morning."

Larry gave me a look that said, "I'm onto you." But left it unsaid, which I'm grateful for. I didn't want my emotional state to take away from the excitement of what was happening. The anticipation seemed exhilarating to Scott and I literally saw him climbing from cloud to cloud, happily landing on about 6 or 7 as they pulled out of the driveway, knowing full well he would reach cloud 9 in full camo, wandering the woods, waiting to take his shot.

I could spend hours blogging about the trials of being a hunting widow. But for the life of me, I never thought I would actually find a reason to love this time of year and be grateful that Scott can be out hunting. He gets to do what he loves to do and that truly makes me happy for him. He never complains that I shop too much. He never says to me that I spend too much time looking at shoes online. He goes along with me when I drag him to "just look" although I know how much he dislikes it.

My husband tries to just let me be who I am and do whatever I want, whether that's shopping or building my business. He goes out of his way to do things for me to make my life easier. He doesn't intentionally make me feel like I have to ask for his approval or permission to do anything. I am so grateful for that. I need to be more like him in that way and the least I can do is support him in hunting. I do many other things for him too...but wholeheartedly giving a thumbs up to hunting was a big one for me. I finally can, just let him be and do what he loves... because in my mind, the chance is now. Life is too short  not to do the things you love which gives you purpose. Hunting does not take away any of Scott's feelings or love for me. I wish I had understood this a lot sooner and without a brain tumor. But hey, some of us have to learn the hard way.

I titled this blog "Hunting for Hope" because Scott loves hunting and I've been hunting for years and didn't recognize it. I didn't know how many things it teaches us about life. Hunting gives purpose. Hunting forces preparedness and patience and many other things I take for granted on a daily basis. My husband and I had been hunting for different things, and then this tragic and life changing news gave us an opportunity to hunt together.  Now days, we have far more similarities than we have differences. Things are not perfect, but we maintain the hope we will get through this together.

We're both forever scared by events that brought us here. We have a reason to cry, a reason to be sad, a reason to have others feel sorry for us. And yet, we have many more reasons to rejoice and celebrate. We do have cause to tell people, "Don't feel sorry." We hunt for hope daily and find it regularly.

Here's to hoping we can all find things to renew our sense of purpose, our reasons for living, or even just one more moment filled with the kind of joy that sends our souls searching for that feeling over and over again. I sincerely hope we can continue to find positive ways to wake up and come back to being conscious to the world as it "is" with a greater acceptance of who we really are and what we truly need.

I am genuinely happy to say my hunter is out hunting this week. I hope his efforts are rewarded in many meaningful ways. Even if we don't get a freezer full of meat....I will have a heart full of gratitude for the opportunity we both have had to understand more about what makes us happy and what it means to be fulfilled. I know we will continue to have sorrow and hard times. We will continue to fall and make mistakes. We might deal with illness for a long time to come. We might miss some great opportunities. We might risk it all and come away with less than we thought we should have.

But no matter what, we will come away from each experience more knowledgeable and with more understanding than we had before... and I think that just might be the entire point.

Happy Hunting!

A Picture Says A Thousand Words We Need to Hear

I thought it was time to share our most recent family photos. One of my dearest friends, came to be with us during the time Scott was first scheduled for surgery in March. When it turned out that we didn't have to stay at the hospital, we came home and had some much needed fun and time together.

One of the things we have put off for years, are family photos. I can tell you, I am not a huge fan of having my picture taken. I don't feel like my body issues need to be immortalized, and I have always struggled with this. We have tons of pictures of our children, but rare are the pictures of us, being ourselves with our children just as we are.  They deserve those kind of memories. I deserve  those kind of memories. I know that now, more than ever. I feel so much regret for hiding away from the camera my whole life. "Who wants to see that?" Was the internal thought in my head, always.

Nothing like being told your time may be limited, to force you to wade through insecurities and get to what really matters. Nothing matters to me more than these individuals. I owe such a debt of gratitude to these people we've helped create and the person who has shared every single up and down, side ways, tragic, and magic moment for the past 16 years.

I cannot thank Tanya enough for making this happen. I'm so grateful for the lessons learned that day, and every day since this photo shoot. I will never again, miss out on a family event and not let my picture be taken with my loved ones. It's important. It's not about what you look like, it's about sharing the moment and showing your love.

“Give up defining yourself - to yourself or to others. You won't die. You will come to life. And don't be concerned with how others define you. When they define you, they are limiting themselves, so it's their problem. Whenever you interact with people, don't be there primarily as a function or a role, but as the field of conscious Presence. You can only lose something that you have, but you cannot lose something that you are.” ― Eckhart Tolle

This is what we are...a family. We struggle, we fight, we love, we play. We hope. We cannot lose what we are...and it's worth sharing. Always. So what, if your body's not perfect, few are. So what if your hair isn't great, no one cares about that. When we look at pictures, we are looking at memories. The whole point is to bring our minds back to that moment and recall an emotion. Never again, will I waste an opportunity to make a memory that my children, family, and friends can share, with me in it.

When I look at these pictures, all I see is LOVE. I laugh and cry and feel grateful for the people in my life that matter most. This is what is important. If I can share any wisdom here, it's that you need not wait, for the perfect shot, the perfect frame or moment to capture the images of YOUR life. It's short! It's happening now. It's here. If you're reading this, take a moment to think of all the people who love you and who would miss your face if you were gone.

Someday, we when we look back on this journey, we will not have to be reminded of the sadness and fear brought about by a brain tumor. We will have these pictures, and the memories of all the closeness and love we share, to reminded us of what an awesome family we are.

Nothing about these pictures is sad, or tragic, or terrible. People are all shapes, sizes, colors, levels of emotion, and experiences. Personality is what draws the heart in, not physical appearances. Who we are, the kind of person we become, is determined by our character, and what we do, not by how we look. I might be bias, but I think we're all pretty good looking and fun!

Embrace whatever/whoever you are and whatever you're going through. There is a reason you are who you are and where you are right now.  This is the lesson I have learned. Don't wait....don't hide. Don't tell yourself "no one wants to see that." These pictures make me happy. They bring me joy. I can't help but smile when I look at them. I know what we have, and even if it changes or is gone someday,  all I have to do is look at these photos, and I will be right back in those moments.

I could bore you to tears with all the psychological empirical evidence and neuroscience behind how the brain works. But nothing is more effective for changing your thought patterns and they way you think than meditation. I just lost you with the mere mention of the word meditation. Mumbo jumbo, hippie nonsense, yada yada...Right? The reason I share this, is because, if you're anything like me, you need something concrete, tangible and reliable to make changing your ways easier and long lasting.

What all of my posts generally describe is learning to become more mindful. Being mindful is the awareness of things happening right how. The great thing about our brain, is that it doesn't know whether or not we are actually in the present, when we are thinking our thoughts. We are just in whatever moment we are thinking about. Meditation helps us become more mindful. It doesn't have to look like all the stereotypical things you're thinking it is. You don't have to sit, or chant, or hum...you don't have to light the incense or burn any candles. You don't even need a yogi, or a Jedi master. All you need is you and your thoughts. You can read more specifically about how and why this works here.

Why is this important? This photo below is called "trust me."

It's important because when I look at these pictures, I'm instantly happy. I'm back in the park, playing with my kids and watching my husband do the same. I feel all the emotions I did in that moment, and my brain thinks this is all happening RIGHT NOW. Even if at the present, I'm struggling to see what I have and why I should be happy. The more I show my brain these images, the happier I feel, even later on when I'm not looking at them anymore.

You can never un-see an image. Its always there to recall and to retrieve anytime it's needed or wanted. In the depths of my sorrow, I can recall these moments of shear joy and the feelings these pictures and others like them evoke, and be in that moment, and feel positive emotions instead. It's simply the most powerful  and effective method I know to avoid being stuck in negativity. Is it that easy?  Yes! It really is. The more happy thoughts you expose your brain to, the happier and more hopeful you feel.

See for yourself. It doesn't take hours a day. You can do this for seconds at a time, several times a day, as often as you need. When you become more mindful of all the good that surrounds you, you will see hope is alive and well. Don't take my word for it. Try it. See if you can take yourself back to a happy moment of your own.

Even better, go and make a new happy moment and then take a picture.... It'll last longer.

The Gift of Adversity

People keep telling me I should write a book. I don't know if I should or shouldn't. I do know that there are a lot of people on the hunt just like me, searching for hope and not quite sure if it's there for them. I have heard many accounts of others who are struggling with health issues, family problems, death of a loved one, financial problems, and general instability and unhappiness in their lives. I used to wish I had a magic wand to take all the trouble away from the world and specifically anyone that I love. But that would not serve the purpose we are here in this life to fulfill.

If everything were easy, we would never know how to overcome the difficulties presented to us. I think of children who must learn to eat, roll over, sit up, crawl and then walk. As a parent, I remember wanting to help my children along. I could have easily let them continue to drink milk, because meals don't get easier than that! I could have easily held them forever... because you can never get enough of that good baby smell. I could have continued to help them along, take away all the challenges and made it very easy on those babies of mine. It did seem easier at the time, to do it all.

However, my short sightedness would have hindered my children in the long run. I would have inadvertently taken from them the challenges they needed to learn and to grow. They would have never become independent. Instead they would have continued to require my assistance with every part of daily life.

Think about that for just a moment. Would that have really been easier for me? Easier for the child? Only easier in the short term. But as time goes on, life would become dreadfully difficult for both child and parent, if everything that was hard is taken away continually. Love would not grow the way it has over the years. Discontent and bitterness for a burden placed by doing everything for everyone, would certainly overshadow and drown out any good that might come along. I can see myself and my child absolutely miserable and completely unable to enjoy the things in life which come from growing and moving on. There certainly would be no more children!

I wanted desperately to take this burden from Scott. I wanted desperately to take it from myself and my kids.  But had I done that, somehow, I would have taken away the very thing we needed at the time. I would have taken away all that we have become and learned from this experience so far. I would have hindered our emotional and spiritual growth. That would not have been better for any of us in the long run.

I did feel guilty for thinking of letting myself be happy in the midst of such dark news. The same way I once felt guilty for letting my baby cry, so he could learn to self sooth. The same way I felt guilty for letting my baby fall, when learning to walk on his own.  I felt like I was betraying my husband in a way,  if I could find happiness in spite of all the sadness surrounding me. I had moments that I could actually see myself working through the stages of grief, and coming out okay. Not because I wanted him gone, or anything bad to happen. Of course not that. I have been through many, many hard times in life before. I have been to the depths of despair and felt like no one else could possibly understand my pain and suffering or love me unconditionally.

Because I made it through all that before, there was a reason for me to think that maybe I would be able to make it through this one too. Not knowing if it was okay to acknowledge hope,  was causing me more grief. As I  wrestled with these feelings, I new I had a decision to make. I needed to be able to give myself permission to be secure even though doing so made me feel guilty. I felt like the acceptable answer, other  people were looking for, was for me to fall completely apart and be a total mess. That just didn't feel right. I had to keep going. I did give myself permission to be okay, and lived with the guilt for a minute. I knew people might not understand, but that was alright.  I wasn't okay with the situation, I was okay with myself and there is a HUGE difference.

Going through other very difficult times, taught me that there were others who could understand and offer support for me. How would I have known that, unless I had been there? How could I recognize when others were reaching out to me unless I knew what to look for? Not only that, how would I be able to share with anyone else these tender feelings that only come through trial? I needed those other hard times in my life that led up to this point, to help me gain the strength to know when hope was there for me and my family and to have the courage to embrace it when the world seems to teach us not to.  I needed to understand loneliness, sorrow, rejection, hurt, anger, mistrust and all those negative feelings, so that I could learn to fight them off and be strong enough to withstand the pressures life is throwing at me now.

Even if I had wanted them too, no one else could do this for me. The same way Scott had to deal with facing death on his own, or the way my babies had to learn to walk.  I could not do it for them. I had to be strong enough to let them go and do it on their own. I didn't know I had it in me, until I was faced with it. That doesn't mean I wanted to let them go at all. I just had to face my fear and live in the truth of that moment with an understanding that I was not in charge and could not control the outcome. The only thing I can control is me. I can't stop bad things from happening. But I can stop them from destroying my confidence in who I am and what I am here to do.

I have had to face again some demons from my past which I thought were long buried, since the beginning of this whole thing. I have had to search my soul over and over again for purpose, for reasons, and for the ability to continue moving forward when every part of my being just wanted to freeze and never take another step. Watching Scott try to do that, and reflecting back on teaching my children to be independent, I realized that isn't the way it's meant to be.

I have to find a way to put all things in their place and take my own advice. Today, we are all okay. Today we are here together, and today we have much to do that isn't tumor related. Today, is today and not yesterday or tomorrow. The present is what we have right now. I read somewhere... that's why it's called a gift.