It’s been an eventful week. We saw a lot of my family last week, between my dad being in town and the brunch for my newly engaged brother. Today, though, is all about T’s side of the family (you’ll see why pretty quickly). Today’s post is the latest from the SAHM, with only some minor comments from me here and there. I may write more on this topic later in the week, but this one is more T than anything.
Cancer.
It’s a tiny word that carries such a big punch. We hear about it on the radio and see signs discussing it on buses and trains. We watch our favorite TV doctors dissect, resect and administer drugs. But we, as outsiders, never expect “cancer” to affect our immediate world. It’s one of those things that we always think happens to “someone else,” like robberies or car accidents or getting struck by lightning. And then, out of left field, when you are least expecting it… The surreal punch; one word.
Cancer.
A whirlwind of emotions immediately overtakes you. You’re terrified and angry and confused and in disbelief all at once. Life, as you’ve known it, will never be the same. In an instant, everything has changed.
One little word.
They say laughter is the best medicine. I never realized just how true that is until I became a parent. As children, people do things to make their parents laugh, smile and, of course, even make them cry. I’m certainly no exception. Sure, my friends think I’m funny, but my parents think I’m hilarious.
I always laughed it off when my parents would obsess about something cute I did or said how funny they thought I was. I would always tell them, “Mom, Dad, stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” But now that I’m a parent, I realize that parents talking about their kids isn’t just showing an obsession over behaviors (or just me kvelling1 over how cute my kid is). That pride is an integral part of life that truly helps life seem better and worth living.
I know I’ve wandered a bit in this post. Forgive me, but I’m a bit distracted today. The point I’m trying to make is that life is precious and fragile and we need to cherish the few moments we do have here. It’s important to laugh, at each other, at ourselves, at our kids, at everything. Even at little words and the way those words make us feel. I know today is going to be incredibly hard. It’s scary and hard to grasp and I’m still not sure I can name all the feelings. But I’ll be laughing as much as I can. E needs to see me laugh and so does my dad.
Laughter will get us through it.
1. Yiddish for “bursting with pride.”↩
