This title is my mini six word memoir, a challenge posed by Oprah in her last O Magazine. Write in six words, the sum of your life. Try it, you might be surprised what you come up with.
I sit today on a (way too small) plane, my connection from Denver to Sacramento, waiting to see my step dad who is dying from complications of bladder cancer. I wonder what his six words would be.
My mom called last week to tell us that she was taking Walt to the ER, that he was not doing well. I decided a few days later that I would go, show up, before he dies. I hesitated before I wrote the word dies, thinking maybe I would say “Incase something happens, instead. You can’t really sugar coat death. Not saying the word just makes you feel crazy. Walt is dying after a twenty year battle with prostate and bladder cancer. Last year the doctors wanted to remove his bladder. He refused. It has been a long, hard year for him.
So I sit on my tiny plane today contemplating life, death and pain, thinking about my daughter who through her tears last night told me she was worried that Grandpa Walt would die, and then, “And what if Rocky (our 16 year old blind dog) dies while you are gone mom?” Sigh. What if?
I drove to the airport today glad for the seven quiet hours I had ahead of me in the air to think, read or write. It has been a hard month (nine years) with my daughter Danielle. In her presence there are seldom moments of rest. She feels life on a different level and is constantly expressing it, good or bad, consistently wanting my physical and mental energy, constantly challenging me to be a better mother. Most days it is exhausting. Some days she tips me over the edge.
We headed for taekwondo last night together and I was anxious to get there, my haven. Class is a time when my incredibly patient teachers become her “mom” for an hour and fifteen minutes and I can relax and workout. I was feeling this way last night, preparring for the flight I had the next day, happy to line up across the room from her and let go. Half way through class we were granted our much appreciated water break and I thought, “The second I walk by she is going to have a problem that I need to fix.” Ugh, I am a terrible mother. In the tiniest almost unrecognizable voice she says, “the rest of my row went for water mom.” I heard something entirely different and had to ask her “What?!” with some impatience in my voice. Even tinier this time, “My row went for water, can I go too?” “Yes honey, you can go get water.” My aching heart.
I touched down in Denver and turned on my phone to find three texts from Dani. “I love you more than the moon and the stars.” “I miss you so much already.” “Please text me back.” I love my sweet girl more than the moon and the stars and the sun all together and I told her so as I tucked her into bed last night. I sit on my tiny plane today and miss her. Yep. Because your kids have their claim on a chunk of your heart and it doesn’t matter what they say or do or how much they try to wear you out.
Maybe her six words will be: Anything’s Possible, Mom Told Me So.
Today I am surfing the waves of life and trying just to be, to feel, to shine. I am grateful. I am loved. I am working on bringing myself to my family today, in love. Trying not to worry about what to say or how it will be, or how I should feel. Just love.
For Walt: Anything’s Possible, In Life And Death.
