Bittersweet

Bree pre-bang cutting disaster

This morning after dropping Ava off at school this morning, Brielle and I were walking back to the house.  She patted my arm and said, "Mommy a good girl."  It was the first sentence she's ever put together and not just a string of words to get the point across.  I smiled at her and said, "You think I'm a good girl?"  She smiled back and said, "Jes (yes)."  It made my day.  Especially since it had been a rough morning getting Ava dressed and out the door on time. 

Life is bittersweet.  The last few years have been interesting.  We moved in with my in-laws for eighteen months, we moved to Salt Lake City into another basement, I hated it, I hated my marriage, I left my husband, I moved in with my parents, I made a love-child with my estranged husband, I went to a therapist, I got back together with my husband, I gave birth to my love child, I went on Zoloft, I felt sane - VICTORY!, I grew to appreciate the people and the things that I had in my life, I decided I don't mind living in the city...but I'd still rather be in the country. 

The situation I went through has only enriched who I am as a person.  Not that it was enjoyable at the time, it was hell, but now I have more empathy for people and for what they might be going through either out in the open or the trials they suffer in silence. 

Three years ago my father-in-law was on a waiting list for a liver.  It was truly a blessing to be living under the same roof as Brigham's parents at that time.  It brought us closer together.  It strengthened my faith as I saw their faith, as well as their setbacks.  I let go of any slights, real or imagined, that I had held on to.  Then the stars aligned and my father-in-law, David, was able to have a liver transplant that saved his life. 

A couple of months ago after going through radiation for a tumor in his neck, David received the earth-shattering news that he had late stage lung cancer.  We got the news via text from Brigham's mom in the early hours of the morning.  As Brig and I held each other in our darkened room I couldn't help but wonder, why?  Why after saving David's life a mere three years ago had Heavenly Father decided to deal this hand to him?  If you don't believe in a higher power it might be simpler to just look at it as an extremely unfortunate turn of events that demands no theoretical answers.  I put the question out of my mind as I simply focused on the realness of my husband in my arms.  All the little things (and big things) I worry about not having in my life...a home of my own, a new pair of jeans, a nicer car, a cute pair of shoes, maid service (Holla!)...none of those things enrich my life as much as this man, or the two little girls sleeping down the hall. 

David had a PET scan after a round of radiation and chemo-therapy and the results, though good (the tumors have not grown), the doctors were quick to remind him that he will not recover from this.  We gathered at their home on Sunday and had a soup off.  As I looked around the room at my family I was so grateful for them.  When Brig and I were first married all I could do was compare my nuclear family to the new one I married into.  Needless to say I turned my nose up quite a bit at them.  They're so weird.  Why do they do it that way?  My family does it this way.  Do we have to go over there this Sunday?  Now I accept and love them for who they are, and even concede that they do quite a few things better than my family.  So either I've gotten just as weird as them, or they were never weird to begin with. 

Every day I think about David.  I think about what it would be like to know that you were going to die.  I mean we all know that, but most of us try to ignore it or forget about it, or write it off as years into the future.  How would it change my behavior?  I watch David.  He is humble.  He is hopeful.  He has faith that he can be healed.  He is working on having the faith to accept that he cannot be healed.  He holds his grand kids on his lap.  He tells us he loves us.  He hugs his wife and holds her hand.  I don't know why Heavenly Father has decided that David's life will come to an end sooner than we ever expected.  And as the months have passed I've stopped worrying about that question.  All I know is that we have him with us for a while longer and that I love him.  And that is enough.