You see in movies and television shows when a person is dying, the loved one kisses them on the forehead and tells them, "Go. It is okay for you to go." I told my grandma that when I saw her for the last time. I could not bare to see her suffering. For Kevin, Damion, Kaitlyn, and Tristan giving such permission comes at a high personal cost. It will not be an even trade for their permission for me to go leaves them with a lifetime of suffering of their own. Kevin will give me permission when he knows we have given this everything we have. The kids, however; may never be able to give me permission...and that is okay. Their current mommy seems to be enough for them. And, for now, she is enough for me. From them, permission may come in the form of hindsight, decades later when they finally understand how hard I fought to remain with them. In the end, I hope they will come to understand and believe that when I chose to go, I did so because I felt it was the most loving thing I could do: to set them, their father, and myself free.
Today is my second day as a Social Media Ambassador, and I absolutely love it. I am able to share important topics about lung cancer with my friends and family. I feel as though volunteering with LUNGevity is something God wants me to do. Not only am I a Social Media Ambassador, but I am also a moderator in the Lung Cancer Community Forum. I filled out an application to be a Life Line Volunteer and am still waiting on confirmation of that. I am trying to volunteer as much as I can to keep my mind occupied. Between teaching the kids, preparing dinner for my family, doing laundry, volunteering, and making sure I am spending quality time with all of them, I can guarantee that I will stay busy.
On a different and lighter note, motherhood is not all Hallmark moments. My kids drive me crazy hourly. Hell, they drive me crazy a lot more frequently than that. I often think of my grandmother with her seven children and wonder, "What in God's name was she thinking?" Every mother dislikes her kids sometimes and anyone who says that they always enjoy their children is a liar.
Of course, for me, this is a little tricky these days because I am like every other mother: sometimes I want to squeeze the stuffing out of them with a great big hug, and others, I want to drive them to a remote location and leave them there. But then I remember that I have to leave them someday and I won't be able to drive back and pick them up. It will be an abandonment of the most permanent kind.
Tristan and Kaitlyn were driving me crazy this evening. They are both in that developmental stage in which they forget any instruction if they don't carry it out immediately. Katie's room is in perpetual disarray. Tristan kept getting up to get a drink, or do something else he thought he had to do. Beginning at 8:30, I asked them to start getting things cleaned up and get ready for bed. I have neither the energy or ability to nip at the kids' heels these days. At 11 and 14 years old, they should be able to get ready for bed without repeated step-by-step instructions. After all, they have to do the same thing every night (clean their rooms, take their medicine, brush their teeth) every night. I mean really, how hard can this be? Apparently, it is very, very hard. Ah....sometimes I really want to pull my hair out.
Surely if there was a formula to raising children- a one size fits all size approach guaranteed to produce happy, functioning members of society- someone would have figured it out by now. And I can say this intellectually, but it does little to address my ambivalence about my own choices.
When I used to blow bubbles at my small children, it was such a joyful experience for them. They never fretted about how they wouldn't last (of course, the bubble bottles were always pretty big). They simply reveled in the magic of those elusive, fleeting, fragile orbs. Photos of children playing with bubbles should be in meditation instruction manuals in the chapter on being "present in the moment."
My illness made it clear to me that the ride was not going to last long. And, I believe the knowledge changed me in some very fundamental ways. And now I face this most difficult period in my illness, I continue to feel myself shifting. I know that my life is tenuous. The past four months have been filled with physical and emotional pain, disappointment, and despair; yet I feel utterly transformed in many positive ways. I see things I have never noticed before now, like the cute freckles that have started forming under my daughter's eyes and across the bridge of her nose...like the way my youngest scrunches up his nose when he is aggravated...or like the way my oldest has transformed himself into a man with emotions and feelings. Something about all of these things seemed so powerful to me this week. Everything seems so different now; it's as if the world just crystallized before my eyes.
As we all spin slowly on this giant orb, we delude ourselves about the nature of our existence. It is just as elusive, fleeting, and fragile as the soap bubbles that drifted across my lawn those several summers ago. Children choose to ignore the inherent "flaw" (one could argue that their elusiveness is what makes them magical; if they were everywhere they wouldn't even notice them) of those magical spheres and simply relish the joy they bring. But we adults seem to choose a different means of coping. We pretend that this life is predictable and orderly- easy to do in a society with so much abundance- and we cannot bare to even recognize the uncertainties inherent in the human condition. We save living for some time in the future after we finish this or that project or move from one milestone to another. We choose to ignore the fact that life is happening right now while we are busy doing something else.
I used to tell the kids, "Don't chase the bubbles. Put your finger out and just let it land on you. Then it might last longer." And maybe that's what we all should do. Just stay still for a little bit and let life settle into us, observe its iridescence, and feel its mystery. And then we may not only feel as if it lasts longer but also reaches much deeper into our souls.
Love you all...mean it,
Shanna xoxoxo
I'm participating in an event to raise money to fight lung cancer—and I need your help!
I'm planning to attend LUNGevity Foundation's National HOPE Summit in Washington, DC, in May - it's a special conference just for lung cancer survivors like me. If I can raise $1000 or more in donations, LUNGevity will cover my travel expenses, including US round-trip transportation and hotel accommodations.
Proceeds from this fundraiser will benefit LUNGevity Foundation, the leading private provider of research funding for lung cancer. LUNGevity Foundation is firmly committed to making an immediate impact on increasing quality of life and survivorship of people with lung cancer by accelerating research into early detection and more effective treatments, as well as providing community, support, and education for all those affected by the disease.
Please join me in my efforts to stop lung cancer—the leading cancer killer—now!http://lungevity.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donordrive.participant&participantID=15728
This is from our Facebook page:
Here is my wife's latest status update. Please pray for comfort and peace for her:
"Saw my primary oncologist today. I just heart emoticon her. She actually held me while I cried. This has been the roughest few weeks. Knowing that there is nothing that can be done to stop pulmonary fibrosis...realizing just how precious my time is with my family...it is all very depressing. You know, we all know that we are going to die, just not all of us know the how and when. And, though I am trying so hard to not allow this to rule my life, somehow, it still inches its way in. I'm tired of crying, and I am tired of always being sick.
So, now I have to wear a mask anywhere I go...and I am trying to find cute ones (that is why I am called Princess Sparkles).
The good news is that the cancer is stable right now...that is the good news.
The bad news is that the pulmonary fibrosis will cause more cancer and will eventually cause respiratory failure...and three years was the time frame I received.
She is ordering an MRI of the head to make sure I have nothing else going on.
All I am asking for is prayers of peace and comfort.....I have never felt depression quite this bad."facebook.com/hope4shanna
So, now I have to wear a mask anywhere I go...and I am trying to find cute ones (that is why I am called Princess Sparkles).
The good news is that the cancer is stable right now...that is the good news.
The bad news is that the pulmonary fibrosis will cause more cancer and will eventually cause respiratory failure...and three years was the time frame I received.
She is ordering an MRI of the head to make sure I have nothing else going on.
All I am asking for is prayers of peace and comfort.....I have never felt depression quite this bad."facebook.com/hope4shanna
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