I teeter on the edge of fine
lines. That narrow path between joy and absolute heartache. I find myself cramming
life in, because I am so scared of it being taken away. On the outside I am a
happy girl. I have a husband who loves me much more than I deserve, and two precious
kids who have taught me about a love so precious and innocent that I never knew
before them. I’m an entrepreneur making my way in my industry, humbled by my new ability to give to others, but fear sits in the back of my brain, reminding me that all can be lost in a few
months of hospital bills. How do I know? Well it’s happened once before. About
two years ago. I called my little Tay’s teacher after the Valentine’s Day
party. I remember sobbing to her on the phone, asking if Tay was happy….why was
she lying in the corner of the room sleeping while the other children were
enjoying the party? I would soon learn there was a 2 pound cancerous tumor in
her abdomen that changed our lives forever. It rocked our world and re-defined
our lives. No parent should watch their child suffer as we have, but life is
much sweeter now. Her hair has grown back thick and wavy. Her lashes are long
and shade her always sparkling steel blue eyes. Her scars have faded to fine
lines, and her cheeks are full again. She is brave and funny, and has the
kindest little soul. I took her and Max to the museum and I saw her looking at
a boy and his mother in front of us. Her face was full of concern. “Mommy, is
he getting chemo?” His mother turned to look at her, a mixture of shock and
disbelief on her face. She moved herself in front of her little love, who was
sick…. clearly very sick. His hair was gone, his body was frail, and his mask
was on. He was hooked to an IV pole, but his eyes were sparkling as he took in
the museum. I knelt down to Taylor, and said, “I’m not sure, I think he is excited
to see the museum, just like you.” She shook her head, and said, “But I don’t
want him to be sick.” His mother was confused. How could this little girl know
anything of cancer? This healthy little girl? “Mental health day?” I asked. I told
her about our days we just had to get out, risk the germs, and lift that mask
off to let smiles be seen. That was 46 chemos, 25 radiations, and countless
transfusions and infusions ago. I hugged her, and never felt more connected to
an absolute stranger. She is in the trenches. Fighting for her baby, and my
heart was overtaken with empathy for her. Taylor’s next scan is just around the
corner and we are almost to her 1 year mark since her last chemo treatment. I
decided to have pictures taken to mark the day….but of course not until the 14th
(her anniversary), and not until we’ve had a clear scan. I decided to shop
though, hehe, this can’t just be any little dress. I found one that I loved,
but it was much more than I wanted to spend, much more than I would spend on
myself for heaven’s sakes….but I bought it. I don’t want to have regrets about
things I did or didn’t do for her. There is a part of me that is terrified that could be taken away from me…so I
bought the dress. My hope is to share that picture in just a few weeks. I hope
I am able to be filled with joy and hope for my sweet girl who deserves a
cancer free life. I would be lying if I told you I’m not scared. I’m
human. So I walk the tight rope, the
fine line of joy and heartache…praying for my girl, and making the most of this
one fragile life we are given.
