Today is my husband’s birthday. We feel a special level of celebration.
Last year, at this time, we were well into the murky routines of cancer treatment. Weekly chemo and daily radiation treatments were the main focus, not to mention bandage changes and feeding schedules. And as we followed the rigors of these routines we had no idea what the outcome would be. But there was always hope; there had to be hope. And faith; lots of faith and prayers. And love; more love than we ever realized we had for each other and from our friends and family.
When going through a major challenge, health or otherwise, it is hard in the beginning to fathom what lies ahead. At times it felt we were moving along in a terrible dream, always wondering what lay ahead. Always overshadowed by the reality of the dark illness that waited in the wings. Often feeling the fear of the unknown, yet wanting to keep moving ahead, believing that the treatments would work, having faith that the doctors were being guided in answer to the hundreds of prayers that we were told had been given up for us.
And so today, we celebrated. A birthday, yes. But also finding the end of the dark journey. Celebrating this day meant we were celebrating the amazing doctors, nurses, technicians, and the many other outstanding health care professionals that were involved in my husband’s care. We were celebrating our supportive family and friends. We were celebrating each other.
Today we celebrated. But mostly, we celebrated – life.