Monday, September 6, 2010

The missing chapter

Summer is officially over, I guess, considering today is Labor Day.  Had a great weekend with family and friends.  But, now we're trying to get back into the school year routine of too much to do and too little time.

Where did the summer go?  I've asked myself that in years past, but this year was obviously different.  It really feels as though I lost two months of my (our) life.  The other day while I was hacking through pumpkin vines in my garden, Mike was trying to get the shed somewhat organized.  We started talking about toys we should get rid of because the kids are getting too big for them.  I made a comment about how the kids hardly even used the swing set this year.  That's when it hit me.  I honestly don't know how much the kids used the swing set this year.  There is a significant block of time that seems to just be gone.  Selective memory, maybe?  I don't know, but it's a really odd feeling.  To not remember what my kids did this summer is a bit unsettling.

I remember the big stuff: tubing and Great America before surgery and our family vacation three weeks after surgery. What I don't remember is everything in between.  I can go back and read my blog, but it doesn't feel real.  When I see Mike hanging upside down on the monkey bars or wrestling with the kids on the floor, it doesn't seem possible that he has an angry looking scar hidden under his clothing.  That just over two months ago our world stopped and everything we thought we knew about our future was shaken to its core.

I haven't cried in a long time, but writing this brings some of the feelings back.  Being reminded of the generosity of others and hoping I can return those favors some day.  Indescribable gratitude that Mike is here with us and that he is strong and healthy.  But, I'm also reminded of the fear and uncertainty.  The ups and downs of having hope one minute and worrying the next.

The way things are going right now it seems impossible that we will hear anything but good news from the genetic counselor once the results are in.  I want to hear that it was just some weird, freak, unexplainable thing that will likely never happen again.  Hopeful?  Yep.

No comments:

Post a Comment