Whatever choice my mother makes there will always be uncertainty for me, and probably for the rest of us as well. Chemo won't kill that. The chances of her surviving until 80 or 75 or 85 aren't really as important - really - as the quality of time that we spend together and the quality of time she makes for herself until she needs to leave this dimension ... It is a choice of how to live best that does not really require an answer to how long we will live or whether or not my mother decides to have chemo or not.
It is a choice about how to empower and uplift and improve relations. And that is always something that should be in focus, although sadly it rarely is until the demand is great.
But I feel empowered even so. I feel encouraged thinking about all the things I can do to share some beauty and joy and power, no matter what turn events take.
A very difficult and delicate balance, which I have often written about, and I will do so again. But it is important to keep in mind. Especially in situations such as this, where you are fearing for a loved one and pondering scenarios and outcomes and consequences whilst trying to live your daily:
Always try to keep a good balance between thinking and letting go and doing - something else. It is excruciatingly difficult but it is the only way - the only focus. Otherwise you tend to veer off towards extremes, like depression or suppression - which is kind of the same thing really.
So again I take a deep breath and go for balance.
Apparently, once you make the decision to have faith and to set a certain course, it doesn't feel all that difficult. It is the wavering that is difficult. The place where you are but you have not decided to stay. Or to go.
But I take heart in the fact that it is very difficult to discard bad habits (not an excuse here - just an observation), especially when it comes to discarding small dependencies like chocolate or random net surfing, because they are designed to hijack the brain's reward centers. Even if empty calories ...
And, well, that's just it. Again.
But then I will fight it - again. Because I can do it.
I have to do it.
There simply is not time for anything else with a baby and an ailing business.
The point is, I am convinced by now more than ever, to continually ask ourselves - what is it about our experience of life that we can continually make better and brighter, no matter circumstances and conditions which appear unchangeable? No matter, that life will end?
What is it?
We will have to find out - all over again.
... maybe Char and I are robots now. And maybe a day like this is a confused mess, with deep clouds on the horizon still, and objective recognition that you are just not getting anywhere with your business, dreams, goals.
But you have the spark. You have a smiling baby. You have a mom in good spirits. You have the will to accept the crappy work-hours and not whine, except maybe a little when you sit in the bus.
You have these small victories and if you pile them up and focus on them, they look like something.
We have just been reminded, in our hearts, what we knew in our minds: That my mother can get cancer, like anyone - again.
And the fear that she is somehow 'especially prone' to the illness, I suppose.
That new, starker, more resonant fear will not go away anytime soon, only be dimmed by time and need to live. And live well.
I guess we will have to find ways to enhance that need to live well, as an opposition to that fear which can probably never be eradicated, even if my mother is cured this time and never has another sick-day - until the final day.
Opposition or balance in our life experience to the things we cannot change. Or: Light a fire to keep us hopeful in the dark.
Its's an old truth, but it might as well be lived again.
These things work to de-escalate anger and become calm: - stop the situation, remove yourself; then clean up; music ... and a hot mug of coffee. Do something nice for yourself, too.
These things work. So if it ain't broke ...