With a nod to the Beatles, we must admit it’s been a little rocky around here these past couple weeks. Andy had round 5 of chemo the week before last and it was a rough one with his blood counts tanking to nothing and a scary middle-of-the-night trip to the emergency with a fever. Add to that the holing up we all need to do to keep him safe from germs (read: kids bouncing off walls and really bothering each other), a loving brother in need of support, the stress that goes along with this all, and of course, pure exhaustion.
Thankfully there is always someone warm and fuzzy in this house to lay on your legs as you recover from chemo, to hold tight when the tears of frustration won’t stop, and to make you laugh when you aren’t sure you ever will,
I don’t know how we’d do it without this team of quiet, loving supporters in our home. These critters who hold life so totally present. So gently and quietly. Always available for a snuggle and an ear sniff.
There have been days when I’m not sure the misery of the moment (pick one: a sibling squabble that won’t end, a late night tearful talk about the future, a raging tantrum because sometimes life is just too hard…) will ever break, but then, miraculously, is cut short by a cat walking in the room and plopping down in the middle of it all. Looking totally peaceful and definitely needing a scratch,
Every day we find moments of comfort. Today it is Andy slowly gaining strength again. It is a cat curled belly up in the sun, making peacefulness and ease feel attainable. It is an old hound dog warming the spot in the bed I will soon occupy.