Leading up to the double mastectomy last week, more than ever Shermance was struggling with fears about her mortality. What if she didn't make it through the surgery? What if she were creating her last memories? What would she be remembered for? How would the kids cope without a mother? Had she lived a full life? Was she ready to be gone? So many other questions filled her mind about the timing, her readiness, and many more questions she kept inside. That weekend, she was more anxious than usual and a bit on edge. Who could blame her? I've never been so close to what I thought could be the end, so I never faced those questions myself. For her, those thoughts were often tear-filled, but oddly enough at the same time she was at peace.
At the time I didn't feel it was appropriate to share her thoughts in this blog, but now that she is recovering well (like a champ), it seems OK. Such thoughts are core to being human. We have it in common: one day will be our last and we'll be faced with similar questions. Her mind was put at ease because she had no regrets. She was good with God. If this was her time, she was ready to accept her fate. She was ready. WOW! What amazing strength! I don't think I could face my own possible death with nearly such a equanimity. Yet she didn't want to fade away...she wanted our family to have memories of the 'last days'.
The night before heading to the hospital we shared a family tradition dating back to my childhood. On the first Sunday of Advent, I'd read the Christmas story from the Bible, followed by setting-up antique Hummel Nativity figures on the mantle. We've since passed down that tradition to our boys. For the second year our 9-year old son, Parker, read the story from a Beginner's Bible and we had my mom on the phone from the Chicago area. My brother, his wife and their two sweet daughters also joined us at our house. Although we were a week early for advent, it seemed right since it normally falls on the weekend after Thanksgiving and moreso to add another family memory before surgery. Shermance enjoyed showing my brother's girls our Christmas decorations, especially seeing their interest in the multi-colored, fiber-optic lit ceramic village and similar snowman. It was chaotic, with the little girls exploring more of the decorations especially the heat-driven Christmas candle carousel. Parker kept reading amidst the comotion. Shermance was smiling - radiating from inside out. She enjoyed sharing that moment. She watched all that was going on in particular wonder. After setting up our own Nativity scene we enjoyed the most kid-anticipated tradition - eggnog and a variety of traditional homemade cookies shipped from my mom. Yum!
Before putting the kids down for bed, Shermance recorded an iPhone video of or night-time ritual. Our family routine includes singing a good night song (or songs), saying a rote prayer, and each meditating in silent prayer. This night the song was more boisterous than ever while we were recording. It's not unusual that the 4 of us are in different keys, doing a poor job of harmonizing, or competing for the loudest rendition, but this time we laughed...and laughed. It was joy-filled. It was a gift. Even without technology that memory will forever remain fresh. It's part of having a family. It's a sharing that cannot be described in words alone...it's a forever bond that will keep us together whether near or far, whether well or sick, and whether old or young. It's family. It's our family...odd, fun, happy! That's how we hope it will always be.
Now that Shermance is on the mend, she doesn't ever want to face the biggest fear of a cancer survivor - recurrence. To reduce her risks she will live a healthy lifestyle - low stress, happy, eating good foods, and sharing time with friends and family. To also help her meet those goals, she's reading a book she highly recommends, and one she wants to share with others about how to live to avoid cancer called The Cancer Killers. Add that to my list of must-read books! For women, 1 in 8 sometime in their life will hear the words that struck fear in Shermance 7 months ago, "you have breast cancer". Help yourself. Reduce your risks, but also live like you were dying...Have no regrets! It's your life!
Note to self: never mention a vulture flying overhead when your significant other is questioning her mortality - it doesn't go over well. I learned the hard way. :)
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