Monday, October 1, 2012


When I least expect it, fear will creep up behind me, slithering up my spine, sending chills through my entire body.  Sometimes I forget that my child is not healthy.  And then, creeping along, smudging my happy existence, fear will return.  I will remember.  My sweet boy has cancer.

Josh doesn't look sick.  In fact, he looks like any nine-year old football player would.  He's big.  He's strong.  He's covered in bruises.  Bruises like when he was first diagnosed.  Josh had just finished his second season playing football.  I figured those bruises came with the territory.  In fact, those bruises appeared because his platelets were dropping.  But he has bruises now.  Fear clenches my chest.  Is it back?  No, I reassure myself.  His counts were just fine.  He's being watched closely.  They're just football bruises.  But are they really?

I was organizing the bookshelf today.  I found a paper that Josh had completed with his teacher when he was four.  "When I grow up, I want to be a business man."  A smile crossed my face, as I clutched that paper to my heart, thinking of that precious four year old who wants to be just like Daddy.  And then -- what if he doesn't grow up?  There it is.  That sneaky fear, sending its cold tendrils through my brain.

I can't take it anymore.  And I sob.  I sit, and I let the fear take over.  I worry.  I rock. I cry.  And then the warmth begins to fill my heart.  The light of happiness forces the fear back into the dark recesses of my mind.  Josh is doing well.  He's happy.  He's relatively healthy.  He will beat that dreaded leukemia.

He has to.

1 comment:

  1. He will ABSOLUTELY kick this SORRY disease's ass! He is a fighter. I have every faith that he will kick Vance FAR FAR AWAY!!!