Every moment a memory

Without going too Hallmark-y on you, I just want to take a deep breath and share how wonderful life can be, even in the midst of all that cancer I talked about in my last post.  During difficult times, I’ve had to face the fact that I may not have many years left (oh, how much more positive that wording is now than when I was writing in all that pain!), and so every moment, every milestone that I get to reach with my children is that much sweeter.

Last week, my oldest came up with the idea for his Halloween costume, his first year requesting something himself:  a tornado.  We talked and sketched, measured and thought, and we designed him a tornado costume, complete with minature slinkys and farm animals that would spin around when he did.  I sent my guys to Target for a gray shirt and a little miscelleny, and when they came home, the seven-year-old collapsed with happiness, saying, “Mama, I cannot WAIT to be a mummy for Halloween!”  (Wait, what?)  So we spent Saturday afternoon together dying an old sheet with tea, tearing up the strips, and talking about the ancient Egyptians and their burial practices (fun fact: they pulled the deceased’s brain out their NOSE).  He dressed as a mummy for a friend’s costume party at the park on Sunday, and hilarity ensued.  (I was THERE.  For three hours, I was THERE.  It was an amazingly beautiful, clear day,  spent with sixteen small boys and their families, and I walked around and chatted with the best of them.  And then, I slept until Wednesday.)

My littlest woke up this morning at 4:00, wandered into my room, and cuddled up against me, saying drowsily, “I love you, Mama.”

And last weekend, the boys came tearing up the steps together, asking excitedly, “Mama, do you want us to get out the hammock so you can rest?”  I smiled as I got out of bed and transferred my tired tush to the hammock outside, where they promptly jumped in with me and made it a sailing ship, a pirate vessel, and then part of the Rebel Alliance.  It was a good deal rockier than my bed upstairs, but oh, so much happiness was had.

This, this is why I am thankful for treatment and the ten amazing women taking me to radiation therapy each morning this week and next.  Thank you for reading, particularly new readers coming here after the articles in USA Today and The Huffington Post this week.  Grab a chair.  Or a stack of pillows.  We’re pretty casual here on Toddler Planet.

 

28 Responses to Every moment a memory

  1. Barbatthebeach says:

    HUGS!!!

  2. Cheryl says:

    It was wonderful to see you on Sunday with your little mummy! You looked amazing and so happy! I’m so glad your treatments are helping with your pain. You are amazing! By the way, I love the tornado costume idea!! I may have to steal that one some day!!

  3. cagey says:

    I’m SO happy that you were able to attend that costume party!

    Thank you for taking the time and using your precious energy to share your experiences with us, Susan. Thank you.

  4. Susan, you are such an inspiration. I seem to be surrounded by cancer and you always make me understand.

    Thank you so much for sharing. I’m so glad I found your blog.

    Hugs.

  5. stephanie says:

    I’ve been a reader for a while, but never commented. I just wanted to send my love and hugs… for whatever it is worth. I also have two small boys (3 and 4 months) and I am constantly reminding myself to slow down and absorb their awesomeness, because really, it happens at the most random times. Thank you for writing and sharing you journey with us. You are an inspiration to me on a daily basis.

  6. I’m expecting pictures in my inbox at any moment. Tired tush or not🙂

  7. Niksmom says:

    This, Susan…THIS is why you are so very inspiring and so loved. You manage to find the nuggets of beauty and love and joy buried in each seemingly mundane moment of time. You remind us ALL to slow down and find those gifts. I feel so fortunate to know you.

    And I LOVE that ten women are taking you to your radiation therapy this week! Such a gift of friendship. xo

  8. I happened upon your blog somehow several months ago and have been so touched by you and your story as I read backward and now forward as you write. This, however, is my favorite post so far. My dad lost a 75-day battle with brain cancer that began this time last year, and your last post and this one remind me of what my family and I felt about his fighting to stick around with us for as long as he possibly could – it’s the perspective, and the memories, that matter. A person could choose to think THIS SUCKS about any or all of it, but instead my dad chose (as you are choosing) to make the valiant effort to be happy and grateful and present and appreciative. We called what you are talking about in this post “Memory Hoarding” – we knew our time with Dad was dwindling, and so we worked overtime to catalog even everyday events (the joys and the struggles) with him in our memory banks, for when we couldn’t do that anymore. I will be forever grateful for having the extra time to do that, and your family will too, no matter how much longer they can do it – hopefully a long, long time. Thank you for the blog, the perspective, the tears, and the smiles, and for sharing your memories as you and your loved ones “hoard” them!

  9. Beautiful! I love the tea and shirt idea. My kids don’t know what a mummy is yet, but I will keep that in mind down the road. I’m sure the Hammock was wonderful. What a beautiful reminder that every moment we parents have with our kids is a true gift and blessing.

  10. Cin.k says:

    Because of your sharing the preciousness of each day of your days, I find myself looking around and, instead of longing for something else, treasuring the moments of mine. Gentle hugs, Susan.

  11. This made my heart happy. xoxo

  12. magpiemusing says:

    So, now that he’s been a mummy in advance of Halloween, will he be a tornado for the real deal? Sounds like a terrific costume, what with slinkies and all.

    Love to you, Susan.

  13. What an amazing woman you are. I could not agree more with the way you are living life. I lost my daughter when she was an infant and the experience taught me so much about how fragile life is. I am so glad you have found such perspective but so sorry for the reason why.

  14. I’m in awe of you all the time, Susan. To find joy like that in the middle of a struggle is a wonderful gift.

  15. We are here. I am grinning while praying.

  16. Elesha says:

    I’m so happy the treatment is helping. I read an article where they are trying to find pain relief for bone cancer that doesn’t leave the patient so tired and drowsy. Wouldn’t that be amazing. Your ace and such a good mumma🙂

  17. YP says:

    So sweet! Aren’t those moments the best?!

  18. NYFriend says:

    Aww, how great those boys are! (and you too!) So glad you had some wonderful memories together this week.

  19. You make me happy.
    🙂

  20. Karen says:

    Your boy’s antics make me smile🙂

  21. […] Toddler Planet Posted in cause, diagnosis, paget's disease, treatment, Uncategorized | Tags: cancer, cause, […]

  22. Kellly Kruger says:

    I feel so many emotions with each of your posts, Susan. Today, after smiling about your Halloween adventure, my thoughts turned to the legacy that you will one day leave for your children, and I have no doubt that they both will also grow up to be incredible human beings, just like their Mom, and I have a feeling that they will also find their own way to make a difference, just as you have.

  23. stardustdawn says:

    I was so hoping to see this cool tornado costume! Only a NASA scientist could design a costume with animals that spin!

    Thank you for being an inspiration to us all- those who are trying to be the best mommies they can be, those who are fighting cancer, those who want to be astrophysicists, and those who want to savor every moment with faith and love.

  24. I just found your blog. Your strength and joy are inspiring. I don’t have many visitors to my blog, but I will put link to yours, because I believe the more people you can reach the better.

    Thank you for having the courage to share your story.

  25. Amanda says:

    I really do adore you.

  26. Very touching and inspiring post. This is my first time here and I’m glad I found your blog. I can see that you treasure and savor each moment, which is a divine gift to your children. Bless you and your family!!🙂

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