It has been a while since you’ve heard from me, almost 6 months to be exact. I’m coming out of an emotional tantrum after getting news that we did not want to hear about Tim’s cancer.
The doctors tell us that he has less than 6 months at best. We are no longer taking treatments. Dr. Tauer suggested that we enjoy this honeymoon period of Tim feeling well so we have been traveling as much as possible.
We attempted a cross country trip to the west coast to visit with his friends, Craig and Brian, but we made it as far as South Dakota before having to turn around and head back toward home. He was very disappointed and has had to rest quite a bit more than usual since our return. But somehow, he is already itching to get back on the open road. He wants to see Michigan again one more time before he gets too sick to travel.
Honestly, my creativity has been incredibly stifled by grief. By now, I guess I’ve blasted my way through all 5 stages and found myself right back where I started, resenting the blinking cursor before me wondering what the heck I’m supposed to say and having absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to feel.
Yesterday, my 5 year old granddaughter took my face into her tiny little hands and asked, “Nanny, where did your happy face go?”
Today I have asked myself the same question repeatedly and it dawned on me why Tim enjoys being out on the open road. When we are home, we are constantly reminded of the life that is falling through our fingers like sand. We cry, we sulk, we argue and stay on edge because we can’t get away from everything that reminds us of how drastically our life has changed because of cancer. But out on the open road, there are so many things we have never seen along the way, they become a welcomed distraction from the path we are on.
We know that we can’t run from what fate has in store for us. Just for a little while, though, we plan to put on our happy face and leave fate in the rear view as long as we can.