....JOHN'S GRADUATION!!!!!
I was so proud of John yesterday. He was able to walk and receive his BBA in Accounting. I guess all we need now is for the grades to come in, then it will be "official". I got teary eyed during the ceremony. All his hard work led to this. It was really bittersweet- that is our recurring theme for this month, semester, and year...just in case you didn't notice. When we walked in to the field house for graduation, I was so excited for him, but it also felt a bit empty.
Bear with me a bit while I back up. When John's mother was first diagnosed with cancer, we were rather hopeful. We knew she had a rare cancer, but we also knew that many people we know and love had survived the cancer curse. Upon her initial diagnosis, she was told, and she passed it along to us, not to google her type of cancer on the Internet- just to wait until treatment options could be discussed. We soon learned her tumor was inoperable.
It was too involved.
It was terminal.
His sister called and shared the news. I went numb. We weren't especially close, but she was his mother- the one who gave him life. And she was dying.
Soon.
And I had to be the one to tell him.
I called my parents for advice. My parents always have good advice. Except when I don't agree with it. But even then, it usually has merit. My mom helped me through the emotional aspects of sharing the news. My dad helped me through the technical aspects of it.
He came home from work, but I could not gather the courage to break the news. I wanted it to be perfect- as perfect as telling the one you love his mother is dying could possibly be. Finally the kids fell asleep. But he fell asleep, too. So I fell asleep. Then I woke up. I realized he was also awake.
I told him we had to talk. About his mom. And the cancer. The curse. I don't remember the words I spoke. I know they included inoperable, extensive liver involvement, and terminal. Terminal.
I broke the rule that afternoon. But I didn't google. I went to PubMed. Being a med school wannabe has its perks. I found out there was no record of 5 year survivalship with his mother's type of cancer. No record. Ever. Anywhere. In all the literature on record. The survivalship range was 2 weeks to 14 months. And her estimation was 6.
As in weeks.
Weeks.
Six of them.
I stumbled through the news. He sobbed. This was only the second time I saw him cry. The first was when our best man, Chris died. The first words out of his mouth were, "So you mean my mom isn't going to be able to see me graduate?"
"No, she will be gone by then"
She passed away July 1, 2007.
18 months later, here we are.
Bittersweet.
Her memory and spirit have strengthened and sustained him this semester.
Congratulations Honey!!
I was so proud of John yesterday. He was able to walk and receive his BBA in Accounting. I guess all we need now is for the grades to come in, then it will be "official". I got teary eyed during the ceremony. All his hard work led to this. It was really bittersweet- that is our recurring theme for this month, semester, and year...just in case you didn't notice. When we walked in to the field house for graduation, I was so excited for him, but it also felt a bit empty.
Bear with me a bit while I back up. When John's mother was first diagnosed with cancer, we were rather hopeful. We knew she had a rare cancer, but we also knew that many people we know and love had survived the cancer curse. Upon her initial diagnosis, she was told, and she passed it along to us, not to google her type of cancer on the Internet- just to wait until treatment options could be discussed. We soon learned her tumor was inoperable.
It was too involved.
It was terminal.
His sister called and shared the news. I went numb. We weren't especially close, but she was his mother- the one who gave him life. And she was dying.
Soon.
And I had to be the one to tell him.
I called my parents for advice. My parents always have good advice. Except when I don't agree with it. But even then, it usually has merit. My mom helped me through the emotional aspects of sharing the news. My dad helped me through the technical aspects of it.
He came home from work, but I could not gather the courage to break the news. I wanted it to be perfect- as perfect as telling the one you love his mother is dying could possibly be. Finally the kids fell asleep. But he fell asleep, too. So I fell asleep. Then I woke up. I realized he was also awake.
I told him we had to talk. About his mom. And the cancer. The curse. I don't remember the words I spoke. I know they included inoperable, extensive liver involvement, and terminal. Terminal.
I broke the rule that afternoon. But I didn't google. I went to PubMed. Being a med school wannabe has its perks. I found out there was no record of 5 year survivalship with his mother's type of cancer. No record. Ever. Anywhere. In all the literature on record. The survivalship range was 2 weeks to 14 months. And her estimation was 6.
As in weeks.
Weeks.
Six of them.
I stumbled through the news. He sobbed. This was only the second time I saw him cry. The first was when our best man, Chris died. The first words out of his mouth were, "So you mean my mom isn't going to be able to see me graduate?"
"No, she will be gone by then"
She passed away July 1, 2007.
18 months later, here we are.
Bittersweet.
Her memory and spirit have strengthened and sustained him this semester.
Congratulations Honey!!
