Producer, Director, Audience

This weekend I visited my youngest child for his family weekend at his university. I was super weepy most of the weekend, breaking down in tears at random times, and really, all of the time. I can’t really describe it as sadness, but more a combination of overwhelming joy at seeing him in his element and brokenhearted because I miss him. My other son flew into town too so both my boys were with me…oh my heart. Beautiful and brutal.

With my dad’s sudden passing earlier this year the reality that life is incredibly short is at the top of my mind, not to mention having Stage four cancer. I hate talking about it all of the time, but it informs pretty much my every thought. I think I have cried more this year than I can recall and not just because of the heart ache of losing my dad and my dog but the knowledge about the absolute brevity of life and the beauty in our days always in my face. So, every time I say goodbye to one of my babies, my heart breaks. Hence the tears. Tears from relishing the joy of each moment AND tears of heartache at how fast time ticks; the intermingling of grief and joy. This past weekend time felt like my enemy or maybe it’s that cancer is stealing it away. When will I see them again?

I was listening to a podcast and someone shared that having adult children was like sitting back and watching a show where we don’t have much of a role. I grew up in musical theater so that really resonated with me; earlier in kids’ lives we are producers and directors-overseeing everything, directing their paths, but as they grow into young adults, we become the audience with ‘guest appearances’. Only we hold the memories of their childhood because we were the adults. Think about it, most of the stories and knowledge from my own childhood came from my parents. Only I will remember reading I Love You Forever and Where The Wild Things Are and so on while they were babies sitting in my lap. Only I will remember sitting up many nights holding my son up and setting an alarm every few hours to give breathing treatments to my baby with asthma, the look on my daughters face at her first elementary school concert or when she got a part in the school play, their faces when they were excluded or didn’t make a team, when they were hurt by a friend, first day of school, last day of school, putting them on the schoolbus for the first time, seeing my son hooked up to machines in the ICU after his stroke, birthdays parties, the joy at Christmas opening presents…all the memories that only I have and cherish because they were too young to remember or their focus was a little different. So many memories overflowing with joy, love, and of course, heartache.

I will see my kids again around the holidays but then…? They are all adults now with jobs and college, complicated schedules.

I don’t know when my cancer will decide to progress.

I don’t know how much time I have left, but who does? 

Here’s what I do know:

I can call or FaceTime my kids anytime I want and if I’m desperate for a hug, I can book a flight to visit (it would be a really expensive hug but…)

I have today.

I have this moment.

It’s all about not letting moments pass me by, as I’m aware that my moments are fewer than in the past.

For now, I will linger in the joy of being able to see my boys this past weekend for just a little longer

Tags: Anna Warner, cancer, family, hope, inspiration, life lessons, motherhood, My Lipstick Journey Through Cancer