There have been very few comments on the blog lately, and I suspect that many of you are sitting out there in front of your computers with your jaws hanging onto the keyboard in disbelief. New baby. My dad’s death. Finishing chemo. Neutropenic fevers. Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.
I’ve even heard from a few of you who have wondered aloud if I am now feeling like Job, or that Jacqui and I must be crazy to maintain such an optimistic world view in the wake of all that is in our life.
Well, I don’t feel like Job, and I certainly don’t think I am crazy.
I am clearly not shy in sharing my deepest emotions on all that has gone on in my life these last six months. You all know exactly how I feel. You know exactly what I am going through and what lies ahead. And I am ashamed of nothing and glad that I have held nothing back from you. It has been cleansing to share all that I have gone through, and I am looking forward to turning this all into a book someday so that others who have faced tragedy and difficulty can perhaps take something from this.
But please don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t feel pity for us. Life can be rough sometimes. It can be messy. It can hurt. But it is still life. And I have an amazing wife and daughter and family. And the promise of a healthy life ahead, albeit with some potential speed bumps down the line, both as a lymphoma survivor and all that entails, and just by being a human being and all that entails.
So I am glad you are along for the ride. It is getting easier now, at least in terms of my health. Time will never completely heal the loss of my dad, but he is with me, in my heart and my mind always, and one day I will know just how lucky I am for that.