Life is Time

Life outside of the womb starts with looking at the clock. I'm not sure when they started documenting times as they related to birth dates, but I'm fairly certain most people alive today have the time that they were born documented on their birth certificate. From then on, there are various milestones to hit in somewhat specific time frames and years of schooling that correlate the the amount of time you've spent on earth. 

When we're young, we want time to speed up. The years seem so long, and all we want, is to be big- to drive a car, turn 18 and graduate or go out on our own, go to college, etc. We have different timelines in mind for when we'll do this or when we'll do that, and in the process, sometimes we lose sight of the real meaning of life and the impact that we have in our daily interactions with others.

On a most basic level, life is time. I feel like I have become hyper-aware of this since my initial diagnosis. With the emotional rollercoaster than has come with the past couple of months, the amount of pressure to make each moment count while also looking to the future and sometimes accepting that some days are difficult and not that great, has been tough. 

After hearing that I had no MRD present at my appointment last Wednesday (yes, very exciting and good news!), sometimes it feels like, ok, life can slow down a bit and moments or conversations don't need to hold as much value as they once did. At the same time, understanding how close I came to my own death just a few months ago and knowing that I could relapse any time in the next few months or years, makes me still want to cling to those same moments and conversations. 

Yesterday was my first legit holiday since being sick, and I have to admit that there was an amount of sadness that accompanied me throughout the day. I reflected on last Easter in Woodinville- Remi was almost 5 months old, Elly was there, and we smoked meat and had a fire in the fire pit, and the Easter before that was when we told our parents that I was pregnant. Looking back on those times, I never imagined that all of us would be going through this new journey now, and it's hard to think about what Easter might look like next year or the one after that. How many times in my life will I get to be the Easter Bunny? 

While it is easier said than done, yesterday is another reminder of needing to let go and trust in God's plan for me, and only worry about the things within my control. On Thursday, I go back to Seattle for another month of consolidation chemo. I'll have 2-4 more rounds to complete (including this round), and hopefully, we'll all be able to look back on this time and see it as a bump in the road that changed the lives of many (including myself) for the better with each passing year.