This journey is certainly not for the faint of heart.
I once had to describe myself for an on line dating site. (Shudders.) That was a very brief moment in time. I have friends who have lovely marriages as a result of on line dating, but for me, I just couldn't. It did, however, make me evaluate who I was and am as a person.
I felt like the best descriptor of me is that I am not for the faint of heart. The kind of music I like, my life goals, my tastes; none of that seemed as important as owning my truth. I just wanted to be clear from the get go whoever wins my heart is going to need to be able to hold the hurricane that I can sometimes be.
Dominic said yes to the hurricane. He sees me, and I am more me than I have ever been when we are together.
And so it is that yet another hurricane has entered both our lives. While Dominic had a choice to say yes to me, (well, technically, I said yes to him), neither of us said yes to cancer. And yet, it came, uninvited.
It came in a hurry, and didn't give us any time to decide whether or not we'd like to do this dance. It flung open the door, barged its way in, tried to make itself wildly at home, and here we are packing its bags and sending it on its way.
Because the same man who can hold this wild heart of mine can fight cancer. He is not faint of heart, he knows that sometimes the path is not the one of least resistance.....there are things in our path we must resist. The same hands that can hold a butterfly without crushing it can swing an ax to wood and break it to bits. He has the duality of strength and tenderness that is everything to me.
I think of all this as I sit here in our bed, while he lies in a bed 2 hours away. I miss him terribly. I've left him in the care of his sister, and the 12 hour shifts. I don't know what I'll do while he is fighting over there and I am here. I'm sure my days will be full as I continue to work my regular job as well as get organized in preparation for the next chapter.
Our hearts have been tossed about and we vacillate between a sense of foreboding and a sense of sureness. Our understanding of this process is refined on a regular basis. The information is coming at us fast, and we sometimes filter things differently. I was convinced he'd be required to have 8 rounds of chemo, and today found out he can be done and move to the donor phase once a match is found. Maybe we'll be living in Sacramento even sooner than I anticipated. Maybe not. It is absolutely impossible to do anything but put one foot in front of the other.
We were a bit down last night that our hopes of Sam being a match did not come to pass. We don't fight just the cancer in the body, we fight the caner in the mind that wants to momentarily lose hope. I remembered a scene from a popular movie in the 80's. I don't even know if I remember this scene correctly, because I was far too young to properly pay attention to "The Golden Child" when I watched it as a flighty teenager. I vaguely remember Eddie Murphy's character needing to save the Golden Child, who had mystical powers. There were bad guys and chases and the supernatural. At the end of the movie, he had to cross a chasm over hell fire, without benefit of a bridge or any other immediately seen support. After much trepidation, he stuck a foot out and when he stepped down, a column of stone appeared under his foot to support him. This is the way he made it across the chasm. One foot in front of the other.
If I have remembered this scene incorrectly, I don't need to be corrected. Maybe I'm actually remembering something from the Indiana Jones series. No matter. I'm just going to run with this imagery, and imagine that each supporting stone has and will appear as we take the next step, and we will be supported all the way to our destination. My hero and this wild heart are on a journey. And we are so grateful for everyone accompanying us on this journey and being our heroes as well.