These are the Good Times

October 2011

There he was again, the center of attention, charming people with his stories and jokes. I caught a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye as I was chatting with ladies I hadn’t seen in a while. To tell the truth, I was thrilled to be around people again. Over the past few months, I was starved for social interaction, and a party was just what the doctor had ordered. I felt more myself than I had in a while. Other than the friends who invited us, the room was mostly loose acquaintances and strangers. I loved the anonymity, meeting new people, and above all the music too loud to really hear my thoughts. And to boot it was Halloween. I LOVE Halloween.

Only half following the conversation of the group around me, my eyes kept darting toward Jaime, wondering what story he was telling that had everyone in earshot so engrossed. It looked rather ridiculous- an obviously captive audience surrounding the grown man in a Panthro costume. I laughed to myself. The crowd around him had grown steadily since I had decided to work the room a bit. I couldn’t read the faces of the men and women around him. I couldn’t imagine what story he’d be telling. Intrigued, I excused myself from the small talk around me, walked over to the snack table carefully choosing crackers and grapes, and quietly made my way to stand behind him, for once not wanting to draw any attention to myself. I stopped short, noticing the teary eyes of several men who were leaning in, hanging on his every word. I moved just a bit closer, trying to catch what my husband was saying.

“Ya, everything else was a breeze,” he said. “Telling my wife… Seeing her face… Watching the pain as it registered. No question. That was the hardest part of it all.” He shook his head, as if the shake off the memory.

For a while everyone was silent. After a moment, the man across from me lifted his eyes to my face, and Jaime turned around.

“Hey honey,” he said with a smile, wrapping his arm around my waist and bending down to kiss my cheek.

Even in his absurd costume, he was surprisingly handsome. He had dark eyes hooded by thick long lashes that any woman would envy. His full lips and perfect skin often made me just a tad jealous, especially when I'm rummaging through cosmetics for lip plumper and skin crème. But he wasn’t at all effeminate. His full beard gave his face a certain ruggedness, and though now it was covered with Panthro’s blue bald cap, his full head of salt and pepper hair gave him an air of masculine sophistication.

Calling myself back to the present, I looked at my husband with a tender smile. At the moment- he was not sophisticated. It takes a special man to wear a Panthro costume, full with blue tights, faux chest and abs, and yes… a blue bald cap. But that was part of Jaime’s charm. He had a wonderful sense of humor, a charming boyishness, and never took himself too seriously. He was pretty damn near perfect.

“You have an amazing husband,” a woman dressed as a cheerleader said.

“I was thinking just that,” I answered, never taking my eyes of Jaime.

“I’m serious,” she continued, now getting my attention. “Not many men would say the hardest part of having cancer was telling their wives.”

I felt the smile melt from my face.

Cancer.

Even here, I couldn’t escape it. My husband had cancer.

His arm tightened around my waist, bringing me closer. He hated watching the pain shoot across my face every time I was forced to remember. Still nothing had been as heart wrenching as the day we found out.

April 2011

Nothing is worse than waiting in a doctor’s office with kids. Especially if those kids were siblings. I firmly believe that whenever kids play, regardless of how amicable it begins, it will always degenerate into a fight sooner or later. When the children happen to be siblings, it happens sooner. I tried to tune out my daughters’ quibbling. Why had I thought a six year difference would stop the fighting? My 10 year old Natalia, normally very grown up and well behaved turned into a mean spirited brat around her baby sister. And Lucy, the four year old, ordinarily a pretty tough cookie, crumbled into a crybaby as soon as her sister looked her way.

“You see the cool pen Shelbi gave me?” Natalia pulled out a pen with a thick barrel. Along the top were tabs of every different color you can imagine. She clicked each, and made a rainbow as Lucy watched the magic pen with wonder.

“My turn,” Lucy demanded, snatching the pen, and fumbling to push down the purple tab.

“No,” my oldest whispered through clenched teeth, trying to convey anger and keep me from hearing at the same time. “It’s my pen. I didn’t say you could use it. You’ll break it”

I exhaled. Intervene now or wait till Lucy starts wailing?

“Mooooooooom,” Lucy whined. “Tali won’t share. That’s not being nice”

“Natalia,” I said with growing aggravation. “Let Lucy use your pen.”

“But, ma!” Natalia began.

“No buts. I’ve told you, if you don’t want Lucy to use your things, you should keep them where she can’t see them.”

Lucy smiled triumphantly, grabbed the pen, made a few squiggles on a sheet of paper and became bored. Natalia nearly pounced on the pen the minute Lucy abandoned it, and tucked it into her pencil case.

My impatience was growing. There were only three others in the lobby, so unless there were a dozen examination rooms behind that wood door, I couldn’t imagine what was taking Jaime so long.

“I’m a puppy momma, look!” Lucy crawled under a chair and let her tongue hang out, panting. “This is my dog house.”

She was darned cute. Her imagination was delightful, and her energy seemingly limitless. Unfortunately, I was immune to cute at the moment. She was cleaning the floor with her white Karate gi, and I was losing my patience.

“Lucy, you’re getting your gi all dirty.” I warned, not sure if I was more bothered by my four year old crawling on the floor or this crazy wait. I checked my cell phone for the time. Four thirty. They’d called him in over an hour ago. If it took much longer, the girls were not going to make their karate class.

“Ma,” Tali groaned. “We’re not gonna make it. I missed all last week because of Daddy’s surgery.”

That pushed me over the limit.

“Really?” I scolded. “Your dad has surgery, and you’re worried about missing your karate class? What’s wrong with you? How can you be so selfish?”

“It was only his appendix,” Natalia mumbled.

I'm sure I shot daggers with my eyes.

Natalia lowered her head and sat quietly. She’d always been such a considerate little girl, but the onset of puberty had made her plenty mouthy and a bit more self-involved. There was no question Natalia adored her Daddy, but recently nothing seemed to matter as much to her as herself. I hoped it was just a phase. I missed my little girl.

Before I could become overly sentimental about my baby girl growing up, or upset about her selfishness, the wooden door finally opened and a nurse came out.

“Are you Jaime Salazar’s wife?” she asked.

I now noticed the lobby was now completely empty beside me and my noisy children.

“Yes, I am,” I said, standing, unsure what to make of the request.

The nurse turned to Lucy and extended her hand. “I have some really cool toys back there,” she said to Lucy, and immediately, the “puppy” was all a four year old little girl again, eyes dancing and smile beaming upon the mention of toys. Lucy grabbed the nurse’s hand before I could object.

Why are they bringing us back there?

As if the nurse could read the question in my eyes, she also extended a hand to me. “Your husband thought you should come back with him,” she explained- though it wasn’t much of an explanation at all.

Natalia sighed and slammed her books into her book bag, following behind.

My impatience turned suddenly to confusion. Had Jaime anticipated I'd be getting frustrated by now, and asked the doctor to invite me in? Had the nurse heard the girls fussing, and wanted some peace? It wasn’t making sense to me. Why had this taken so long anyway? He was only coming to get the clearance to go back to work after this appendectomy. I followed the nurse, deciding Jaime probably wanted to fill me in on whatever was taking so long- the doctor had gotten called to surgery, etc. Or he just wanted to rescue me from our bored and hence rowdy daughters.

“He’s right in here,” the nurse gestured, “I’ll play with the girls just across the hallway.”

I was just beginning to think how strange this clinic was, when the sight of my husband wiped every thought clean from my mind.

Jaime was sitting on the exam table, hands folded between his knees, his head hung almost to his lap.

“What’s going on?” I asked, still not able to make any bit of sense of the last few minutes.

Jaime looked up at me, his eyes pink from tears. He grabbed both my hands.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, panicked.

He shook his head.

“They found a tumor,” he barely choked out the words.

“But it’s benign, right?” I said, making it more of a statement than a question.

“No.” He hung his head again. “It’s cancer.”

Suddenly, the world didn’t make any sense at all.

Nov 16, 2011

We'd been waiting for the words- "cancer free". When we heard them, we both did silent little dances of joy in our hearts and minds. Between April and November, our lives had literally been turned upside down. It had been just about 6 months- but I think Jaime and I both felt they were the longest six months anyone had ever survived... ever.

Leaving the doctor's office, we stayed quiet for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. When we finally found words, they came like a waterfalls. Unbelievable! Our lives were given back to us! Sure- every three months, we'd have to come back for scans, but all those plans we'd put on hold we could finally pick back up again. I could start teaching my fitness boot camps in the morning again... Jaime could finish his last few classes to earn his Master's Degree. We could maybe catch up on our bills.

And I could start planning Jaime's 33rd Kicking Cancer's Ass birthday party. What a great way to celebrate his birthday and the holidays and starting the new year. Wow! Crazy as it sounded, Jaime was even happy to be going back to work.

For the past nine years, I had listened to his frustrations and complaints about his job, and he was returning with excitement and zeal... it's funny how much of a person's sense of worth is based on his ability to contribute financially.

I think we were both overwhelmed with this sense of relief and joy.

Monday came, and Jaime went to work. I drove the girls to school. It was anymorning, anyday in the life of The Salazar/Ramirez family... and my heart broke a little.

“Where's Daddy?" Lucy asked.

"He went to work, baby," I answered, forcing a smile and trying to sound excited. "He's all better now, ma, and he can go to work like he did before he was sick." I looked at her through the rear view mirror.

She crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. "I liked it better when Daddy had cancer."

The rest of the car ride was silent.

From the mouths of babes. Not that I wasn't overjoyed Jaime was cancer free... But had we really taken the time to notice all the good times? To enjoy the extra time we had with him? Did we suck every little bitty last ounce of joy from the time we had together?

Funny- when Jaime was diagnosed with cancer, we became filled with worry- we took care to avoid germs, to eat well, to get plenty of rest.... But did we fill ourselves with joy? Did we take care to avoid the negative? To laugh and live well? To have plenty of fun? I stopped stonewalling myself and my family not so long after the diagnosis... But did we appreciate the "upside"? Did we realize that we'd probably never again have so much time to share with each other? Did we deliberately stop and revel in each other’s' love? I couldn’t answer those questions.

I never thought while I was living it... "these are gonna be 'the good ole days'", and maybe they weren't, but there were moments of so much happiness and love my heart could have exploded. I wish I had taken a moment to pause. To memorize the smiles on Jaime's, Lucy's and Tali's faces... To burn Jaime's voice singing a mariachi tune into my heart and mind...

February 2012

The first time Jaime was diagnosed “cancer free”, I made him a memory book. I wanted him to celebrate the wonder of being cancer free, but more than that the tremendous gift of having had strength and joy and love throughout his battle. I was blown away by how "normal" some of the days had been... Taking the girls to apple orchards and pumpkin patches... cheering at soccer games... going to summer fairs and festivals... Those were some good times.

We had a wonderful party for Jaime. Over 100 people showed up. Friends helped us find great deals on food, others bought him a beautiful Operation cake (like the board game), my mom paid for the hall, and the ever so talented Gwen La Roka, comedienne extraordinaire, offered her talents for free...

Soon after, we were pulled into the hustle and bustle of the holidays and business as usual.

Only a few months later, we learned the cancer had come back. With a science fiction, super hero, too-out-there-to-believe surgery, doctors proposed cutting breastbone to pelvis bone, peeling the organs like fruit, removing all the tumors and tumor juice he had in there, and then cooking his organs with hot chemo juice for a couple hours (all while shaking him up like a cocktail). The oncologist told us he could be in the hospital anywhere from 2 wks to 3 months. The floor fell out from under me for a second.

We had JUST gotten our lives back.... Except that wasn't true. Our lives were what we made of them. I understand that now.

We hadn't yet learned that Jaime had Lynch syndrome, a genetic mutation that made it likely he'd battle cancer on and off throughout his lifetime. But when cancer comes back after only a three month break, you start to get the feeling you may need to clear out a guest room for the unwelcome visitor. If we didn't want cancer to destroy our lives, we had to create a space for it, and decide what kind of life we would have with the pesty guest. We made a decision, cancer may come and go- but our lives were not going to be put on hold. Jaime committed to finishing his master’s degree, come what may. I decided I couldn’t wait for Jaime to get better before starting to get Lucy “school-ready”.

Somehow, it all worked out. Jaime was out of the hospital in 11 days. He went back to work as soon as he healed from the surgery even though he was getting weekly IL12 infusions. He finished his Master’s Degree. The girls excelled in their academics and athletics. After that, he was “cancer free” from March- August, and then “diagnosed” again with tumors on the dome of the liver.

But those were the days. I learned wherever you are- THESE are the good times...

August 2012

It was the tail end of summer, the Friday before the girlies start school. They were playing in our inflatable pool where they'd spent most of their summer. It was a great summer for swimming- more 90 degree+ days than any summer I can really remember. The coming year would be the first year Lucy had a full day school. Tali was getting ready to be in 7th grade.

It was the second summer Jaime was fighting cancer.

I was feeling empty and lost- and for a reason I couldn’t begin to understand- it was because of the grass. A day earlier we paid a struggling neighbor to cut the grass and get rid of the massive weeds and bushes that had grown over the summer. I wished we could undo it. I missed the vines and bushes and overgrown grass. I felt robbed- like the lawn was keeping track of the time my husband had been sick. Like tic marks on a prisoner's wall, the wilderness of our yard paid tribute to every day my Boo had been in the fight of his life.

And suddenly, instead of the wreck of a yard that mirrored the wreck of my life, I had a normal looking, well-kept yard. It was out of sync. It didn’t belong.

How could anything be in order when my life was in such disarray?

And Lucy- she was thrilled at the open-ness of the newly groomed yard. The spaciousness... The possibility. It broke my heart.

Too many contradictions. We were literally drowning in our bills and paying a neighbor more out of compassion than the desire to have a groomed yard. The girls played in the pool because I didn’t have the money or the energy to do anything else with them. The unruly foliage reinforced that in my mind...

But in only a few hours, it looked like any other summer day with a normal yard and normal kids in a pool. It invited me to ignore our reality, tempted me to forget or even pretend all is well.

I don't know why I held on so hard. I didn’t want to forget, not even for a second... I was afraid I'd have to remember again, and it would be like hearing it again for the first time.

Cancer was the new normal. It's not like we didn’t have amazing moments of near picture perfect joy... But they were in a new frame.

I was pushing back anger, pushing back fear, and wanting my overgrown grass back to keep me grounded in my new normal.

October 2012

As soon as Lucy started school, I started hearing all sorts of words and phrases I'd never heard before. Every time I'd complain about some rotten luck, she'd tell me "you get what you get, and you don't get upset.”

It was swimming weather in October! Jaime was able to get in our inflatable pool- the first time he'd been able in a very long while. We were really lucky summer hung on that year. The girls were ecstatic. I spent the afternoon listening to laughter and squeals of delight as they play sea monster, Marco Polo- and a few games of their own invention I wouldn't even know how to describe.

I watched him, and it was as if he were perfectly healthy. He had to call "time out" a little more frequently, but anyone passing by would think they were looking at the specimen of great health.

I often thought "what did we do to deserve this?", but then I’d look at my amazing life- my incredible husband and miraculous little girls- and I knew I didn't do anything to deserve them, either. Some things in life come down to "you get what you get and you don't get upset".

But there's more to it than that. You fight from the top of your head to the tip of your toes to take what you've got and do something amazing with it.

For Jaime that meant in order to be strong enough to be mighty sea monster for the girls that day, he had to force down 120 g of protein a day- even when he knew he was just going to throw it right back up. He lifted weights 3x/wk even when he was exhausted from working outside all day. He had cancer. I suppose he could have gotten upset- and who would fault him? Instead he pulled strength from corners of himself I don't think even he knew existed, and there was a perfect Hallmark Father's Day card in my back yard in that moment- the perfect picture of a Daddy and his daughters demanding the last ounces of summer joy...

And in that perfect sliver of time I wouldn't have dared to dream of doing anything but being eternally grateful that Jaime had this strength and the courage to wage this fight...

November 2012

"Daddy fell. Daddy fell. Daddy fell"

I don't know if I registered her words at all, or just the look of horror on her face.

Whenever we were able, we brought the girls with us to Zion for Jaime's appointments. I was able to be more "present" with Jaime when the girls were with me, and his spirits were lifted by their laughter and zany conversation. For a second, when I saw that look shoot across Natalia's face, I wasn't sure it was such a great idea after all.

I stutter stepped for a second, not sure who to attend to first- my twelve-year-old daughter who was stuck on "Daddy fell. Daddy fell. Daddy fell. Daddy fell. Daddy fell", or my husband on the ground a few feet away.

I ran over to Jaime, who was laying on his side in fetal position on the hotel floor. I was relieved to see he was conscious and breathing normally. He looked like he just decided to take a nap on the ground.

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing his hair.

"My legs just gave out," he said in such an even tone it caught me off guard. So matter of fact.

Tali was stunned, now barely whispering to herself "Daddy fell. Daddy fell. Daddy fell."

"He's okay," I shouted over to her.

Shoot! I thought. It was real now. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He'd been fighting cancer for two years, but he had handled it so well I would often forget this was really happening.

We were expecting the doctors to tell us the scans showed that the tumors were gone, and my Boo would get a break from chemo for a while. Instead, we learned there was slight growth, and they'd be adding yet another chemo drug to his already heavy drug regimen. I cursed the universe.

That evening, we were at the infusion center I took Lucy to the bathroom. As she was washing her hands she said, "I hope I don't get cancer, but if I do, I'm going come here and I want Julie to be my nurse."

I was coming DANGEROUSLY close to my breaking point.

It was more than I could handle. Lucy MAY battle cancer in lifetime. Jaime's cancer was caused by a genetic disorder called Lynch Syndrome. There's a good chance he may have passed the gene to her.

I looked at my precious little angel, and I literally felt my heart explode like a million glass shards in my chest. I fought that pesky tickle in the nose, the pressure behind the eyes, and swallowed that nasty knot in my throat.

"Let's hurry back to Daddy," I managed to choke out.

What was my life becoming?

It's crazy how the you find exactly the perspective you need in just about anything.

After chemo, Jaime wasn't really up for doing much, so we Redboxed some movies and made it a movie night. Tali had been wanting to see the Katie Perry movie, and I wasn't going to be much into any movie, so I rented for her, and tucked myself under the blankets. I tried to tune out the movie- tune the world out to be honest- but I couldn't really. I was sucked into the world of this young girl who was struggling to make the impossible work. She had this larger than life career, a new marriage, a ridiculous concert tour.... I wanted so badly for it to work for her....

I guess it might seem to the outsider that she had it all.

I looked around me, at my two daughters and amazing husband, and realized I DID have it all. I had every reason in the world to be happy.

The song, as if on miraculous queue, started. "This is the part of me that you'll never ever ever take away from me"

Take that cancer! I thought… This part of me- the joy from my family- no disease could ever steal. Nothing could rob the love and delight that surrounded me all the time.

August 2013

I've never been good at endings. Endings or beginnings. Unfortunately for me, they're always buttressed up against each other. The end of summer and WHAM!... the beginning of the next school year. And just like that (imagine me snapping my fingers) everything changes.

All of a sudden Tali was an eighth grader, and high school and scholarship applications started robbing my sleep at night. I started to homeschool Lucy and Jaime was back at work more regularly. Everything changes... but everything doesn't.

Everyone has those moments... the moments that divide their life into BEFORE and AFTER... I thought I had a few... that is BEFORE cancer... But after cancer, all I could do was desperately await the next AFTER... the time I’d be able to say AFTER cancer. It was the divider that dwarfed all the rest of my befores and afters.

I remember the first day of school for the girls that fall. Talk about a landmark year... My oldest was starting 8th grade and my baby was going to be in1st grade (and I’d be homeschooling her). I'm not sure what the day would have been like without Cancer. Cancer (I capitalize it like a name, because it has become this sort of very personal villain), had been the unwanted guest at too many of these life milestones. I'd almost come to resent it...

Cancer has a pesky brother that always tagged along, too- Chemoschedule (all one word). Cancer and Chemoschedule had crashed our anniversary celebrations, (although they were gracious enough to alternate birthdays), Thanksgivings, Easters... I think our preferred place of celebration became Cancer Treatment Centers in Zion, IL. (Woot Woot! You know you've always wanted to party in Zion, IL)

Anyway, I digress... I'd been fighting the blues... Blues that I would have had anyway because my girls were growing. I hated the start of the school year. Back to School always came despite my best efforts to ignore it. That year, the summer weather decided to show up just in time for us to be studying when I want to be playing... so I was in a funk. But part of that funk was because they were still around. CANCER and CHEMOSCHEDULE!

Every landmark reminded me of how long my Boo had been fighting... Every milestone marked another missed deadline for the long awaited AFTER to my almost forgotten BEFORE... As I'd been grappling with all this, I remembered the previous year, around the same time... I felt about the same way...

I figured it was time to put this all into perspective again... in many ways, it was a good year. I took pen to paper and made a list.

In one year, Jaime beat Candida, E Coli, and a bowel obstruction.

We met Trudy, Cancer Treatment Center's awesome therapy dog.

While in the hospital with us, Lucy learned how to play Sorry with visiting friends.

Jaime tried to assault those friends with his nakedness despite the nurses' protests.

Jaime needed physical therapy even to walk... and within a few months he was working out with weights.

Lucy learned how to flush Jaime's pic line for IV nutrition, and now she wants to be a nurse.

Jaime took the girls on a Daddy Daughter Date to see the Blue Man group.

Lucy went from a Kindergarten reading level to a second semester third grade reading level.

I neglected my laundry and let it take over the house on more than one occasion.

We went to the drive in with friends and family.

We kept our Buckingham Fountain tradition alive for now 10 years in a row.

We marched with teachers on strike... went to Zion for chemo... came back and they were still on strike! So we picketed with them some more.

Lucy celebrated her birthday with the striking teachers at her school.

While we were in Zion and the teachers were striking, we found time to take Lucy to the beach, and the nurses gave her lots of popsicles.

Lucy lost her first tooth.

Tali and Lucy both were promoted a belt in their martial arts class.

My grandparents celebrated one last anniversary before my grandma passed away.

My sister ran another marathon with "Jaime fighting like a warrior" instead of "Jaime- cancer slayer"

We invented "picture shopping"! We're so broke we have the girls choose what they would like to buy, and we take a picture of them with it instead.

Natalia ran for Special Events Coordinator in student council and won.

My awesome best friend took Tali to swim with the dolphins!

We spent Thanksgiving in Zion, but my Aunt came all the way over from Sedona, AZ to see Jaime... and we saw the last of the Twilight Saga with her.

Natalia made the Principal's Gold List, and was also inducted into the National Junior Honor Society.

We went on every field trip with Lucy.

Jaime earned his Master's Degree in Engineering while fighting cancer. We drove to Wisconsin for commencement, and back to Beverly for the girls winter concert in the same day.

Lucy started singing in the G2G choir.

Tali got glasses.

My dear friend Tere was diagnosed with Lymphoma.

Tali was the belle of the ball at her Father Daughter Dance.

Jaime read lots of bed time stories.

We helped with a toy drive for children with special needs.

We had a great birthday/graduation surprise party for Jaime.

I worked out and stopped. And worked out and stopped.

Lucy and Tali got all dressed up for Easter, bonnet and all, and spent Easter with us in Zion in the Intensive Care Unit.

Natalia went to Washington DC, Nashville (she sang at Grand Ole Opry), and New York.

We got into an accident with 2 semi trucks, two cars, and the guard rail on the freeway... and survived. We totaled the Honda Civic my dad just gave us... but Jaime came out with only a chipped clavicle and was good for surgery two weeks later for a debulking and clearing an obstruction.

Julie, the best nurse ever, won the Daisy Award for extraordinary nurses.

Jaime had a bowel movement sooner than expected after surgery, and did "POOP- The Victory Tour" throughout the entire fourth floor with Julie. He left the back of his gown open to flash people on purpose along the way.

We went to a Bulls game.

Jaime admitted his obsession with plus size women and Lane Bryant stores/catalogues.

Natalia and Rayanna did the Chicago Servathon with my friend Tere.

Lucy graduated Kindergarten- winning academic excellence and citizenship awards.

Natalia was promoted to 8th grade, and won over a dozen awards- she was most proud of the Peace Award... good character/ the peacekeeper in her class.

Tali turned 13!

Natalia’s half-brother Noey, outgrew her by a few inches.

Our Relay for Life team rocked the survivor walk, and my best friend and cancer survivor extraordinaire Kathy donated her hair.

The girls did tennis and conditioning over the summer, and are faster and stronger.

We went to a Sox game.

Jaime's brother came from Texas to visit with his family.

We protested raids, Zimmerman, police brutality, and discrimination at a Citgo.

Our dear friends opened the iBrow Bar in Valpo.

Tali outgrew Noey.

We Karaoke'd for my birthday.

Our pool busted, and we downgraded to a slip and slide...

And we went to Buckingham Fountain again... bringing it full circle...

I learned the most important thing through all of this... between hospital stays and accidents... was to have been so blessed with friends... and love. A kind FB comment... the much needed hug... a silly text... running my girls across the city to their activities while we're gone... that’s all that got me through.

I'd been so caught up on the BEFORE and AFTER, I forgot to remember all the beauty in the DURING...

November 2013

A mess…

I wasn’t often alone. Between homeschooling Lucy and Jaime's health struggles, even my beloved 20 min rides to boot camp (and subsequent boot camp class) had been few and far between.

I’d always treasured my "me" time. It was an indulgence I’d always enjoyed. I loved being self-aware and centered, and did this best when I was alone and feeling strong.

Then it happened. Jaime had a good day, and he was able to take the girls to their dance and martial arts classes. I stayed behind because between playing educator and caregiver, housekeeper was a role that was sorely neglected. I was excited to be able to have some alone time, and was eager to clear the clutter in my mind and my house. I turned on my mojo music and got to cleaning. Dirty laundry off the floor, papers in the trash or in their proper bin, cushions vacuumed, floor mopped, toilet scrubbed... you get the picture. I was so happy to clear the junk, I worked like a content busy little bee for hours. When I was done, I stepped back to admire a job well done, then hopped in the shower, made some tea and put on my favorite pj's.

I was ready to settle into some Dawson's Creek, when I glanced over to Jaime's recliner... there were no wrappers, no empty mugs or water bottles, no pile of dirty socks under the seat... I burst into tears. .. I had cleaned Jaime away. I rushed to the bag of laundry to find a shirt that smelled like him... but everything just smelled like dirty laundry. I couldn't find anything that smelled like him... and I broke down...

There was nothing to tie me to him. No part of him there anymore.

It had been such a rough month. .. and more often than not he was so much in pain he wasn't even himself… I missed him.

When he came home, I hugged him and breathed him in greedily. I tried to memorize the smell. I put one of his work shirts in a ziplock bag. It’s crazy how the little mess he left behind was suddenly a treasure to me.

I began to see everything with different eyes. Toys on the floor, dirty socks under the bed… they didn’t upset me anymore. I was lucky to have a family to look after. I wish I’d seen that all along

December 2013

I wished at least I could text him... it felt so unfair that since I'd already been torn from his voice, his touch, his smile... that I couldn’t even text him. I had one shirt left that smelled like him, and I was dreading the day even that would be gone. The videos that a week earlier had brought me comfort were beginning to make the ache that much bigger.

I had to watch Lucy wake up every day, look for her daddy, and then remember that he was gone. I couldn’t do it anymore... I waved my white flag.

Just bring him back

I was surrounded by people that loved me, and I felt so all alone. I needed my husband...

March 2014

My husband is supposed to be here.

I kept repeating and holding on to those words "my husband". I was married. I was happy. He was amazing. He was beautiful. He was real.

It had been about 3 months since Jaime was robbed from my girls and I, and after three months, I couldn’t believe he was ever really here.

He was too good to be true, because he wasn't real. I dreamed him up, and suddenly had awoken from the best dream a gal could ever have. And I just wanted to be asleep again...

Most of the time, that’s how I felt. I couldn’t really "get" that he was here and then he was gone... I suppose maybe it's because my heart didn’t know how to handle that much loss for too long. I began to think Jaime must have been the creation of an over-the-top imagination and a romantic streak that just won't quit- sort of like the imaginary boyfriends I built in my mind when I was in high school.

Anyway, there's no way I would have landed a real life Prince Charming. Everything he did was larger than life. Who gets a master's degree while battling cancer? Who takes his daughters to musicals just days before he makes that last trip to the hospital?

It was like I'd built quite this fantasy, and my life seemed empty without the dreamworld I had been in...

But then, it happened. I knew it was real. While I was immersed in someone else's fantasy, watching a teeny bopper flick with my daughter, it all came back. The mom was dying on screen; she was breathing more and more slowly. I was taken back to that moment…

Everyone in the ICU room was singing “Bella Ciao” and "Thank You for Loving Me" by Bon Jovi. All of a sudden all Jaime's favorite songs had this deeper meaning. I was curled up on the hospital bed next to him. I was not really saying goodbye, so much as just really trying to get through to him somehow. Did he know how much I loved him? Was he afraid?

I kept thinking…This can't be real.

"What song did he sing to you at your wedding? " my mom asked.

I found Que Chulada De Mujer on Amazon and bought it. The first notes played...

"He's gone," my dad said.

How? How, just like that? He was so real, and then he was gone...

Run, Lupe, run... it's just a dream.

He's gone? A dream? Was he here? A dream?

I thought I’d to be able to watch a movie, to escape. But it was all hiding; until the truth found me...

Time to find a better hiding spot.

April 2015

I'm thinking now of this book I had to read in high school, Rebecca... I really couldn't tell you what it was about at all... except for this one quote that somehow haunted me...

"If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory like a scent. And it never faded and it never got stale. And then when one wanted it the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living that moment all over again". I may not have understood it then, but there were so many of those memories over the time Jaime was sick.

Just about the last thing he told me before he passed was how it was so important to him that he married a strong woman, and how if he could, he would do it all again. I’m not that strong, that was always his role… But I can live it all again, and I suppose all I can do for Jaime and for me, is to play and replay all those moments, the joy and the pain… do it all again…and then he lives forever.