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"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit." ~Aristotle

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Thursday, February 17, 2011

Throwback Time: in honor of this time in our lives, 5 years ago.

Tuesday, 07 March 2006

* What's normal?  I've been contemplating that ... originally it was a child-related thing:  "this is the new normal sleeping pattern" or eating behavior or locomotion, etc.  Now it's, "how does a normal life look?  Just me and Ian and Audrey going through life"?  What adjustments are necessary to be MORE normal?

Don't get me wrong; I have no intention of participating in false fronts and an act of happiness.  That type of living is futile and pretty much the Antithesis of Rachel.  Still, for my husband's sake, this THING must not turn our lives upside down.  I respect his wish of "normal."  I just have to figure out, day to day, moment by moment, what that looks like.  The upside?  God and I have a much more constant dialog going on.  If you have to decide whether to check email or sit on your husband's lap, you can ask God.  So I do.

* If you only had 2 years, what would you want to do?  see?  be sure to leave?  If your husband only had 2 years, what would you want him to do?  How would you spend your days?  It's something to think about of course... it's not an original thought; we've all heard the platitudes before:  "if you were to die tomorrow, would the people closest to you know how much you loved them?  Be sure to call them up today and tell them... etc."  Well it's not a trite platitude anymore.  We don't have a firm number; there isn't one, and that's mostly a blessing.  Still, it's fair to say 2 years is the short end, and it's something to think about.  Peanut will be Audrey's age.  Audrey will be getting on her 4th birthday...

* Today is the first day of radiation and chemotherapy.  Those of you who know Ian know he has the same bounce in his step today as any day.  We got to treatment EARLY, and it was like he was arriving early for a concert.  Add to that the scientific intrigue of the whole thing, and he's virtually excited.  And even though to me it's a child-like innocence, it's a quality in him I very much admire and respect.  He's facing this thing head on, with trust in God and the doctors.

* The other day while we were waiting to talk to a doctor, we heard a baby screaming.  Now that we're parents, and we're in a hospital with the occasional obviously sick child, our hearts ache; there are BABIES with cancer.  There are 10 year olds getting chemo and radiation.  There are parents who were once where we are now; blessed with happy babies and a fairly lovely life, and then the big C comes down and claims a BABY.  And it puts some of this in perspective.  A flawed one, but a perspective nonetheless.