Thankful
I awake to a beautiful February morning. The sun is out and warming up the day. Ice from last week’s sleet storm is slowly melting on my back patio. Spring, a figment of my imagination just one week ago, now seems like it may be strolling our way.
On days like these, I can’t help but smile. Yes, I know, I’m terminally ill. But what does that matter today? Even though the future looks cloudy, I can still pause to be thankful for what I have right now.
So what am I thankful for today?
I’m thankful that we made it through another round of chemo last week. Chemo days are hard on our family, especially my wife, who must play the role of single parent, but we somehow managed once again. And now, a non-chemo week is awaiting with plenty of sun and opportunities to enjoy life.
I’m thankful we survived last week’s ice/sleet storm without any major catastrophes. No splintering trees. No power outages. No car accidents. No slip and falls. It could easily have been otherwise.
I’m thankful for my neighbors, the Hawleys, who brought my family a great meal last Wednesday despite all the ice and despite the fact that they’ve endured another loss in their family. Good neighbors (and friends like the Normiles who brought us a meal today) are such a blessing during hard times.
I’m thankful for my kids. Raising teenagers is far from easy, but these are pretty good days in that regard (knock on wood). Maddye is making plans to leave us soon. She’ll head to Stillwater in the summer for college. I’m proud of her, and I’m thankful for every second I get to spend with her. Ford will play at the Norman Music Festival this summer, and he’s in a good place right now with friends. He’s a good friend to me.
I’m thankful for a letter I received this week concerning this series. I won’t get into it here, but the letter encouraged me tremendously.
I’m thankful for my father-in-law, Terry Sims, who calls us every weekend with an offer to fix whatever has broken in the last week and then, after the call, follows through. That is one of the biggest blessings I can name.
And I’m thankful for three more months of life. (After my trip to Houston two weeks ago, I’m reasonably sure that I have at least that much time.) That’s ninety days of memories. Yes, some of that will include bad chemo days, but during the rest of the time who knows what wonders may come our way?
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Comments
Wow. Your posts always seem to humble me. I am tingling with the strength of your hope. You are an inspiration, just in your existence. Know that you are bringing joy and memories to those whom you’ve never met. May the chemo weeks be mild!!
I’ve been battling a recent diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder and seeing what you’re thankful for inspires me to believe my possible impending psychiatric (depends on insurance) hospitalization is something to be thankful for–I hope. I am thankful for a supportive boyfriend and my canine sons and daughters. You inspire me to stay alive. Thank you.
I am thankful that you are giving this experience such an honest, eloquent voice. I am inspired by your willingness and ability to express all of these important thoughts and feelings. So, know you are the recepient of some gratitude today as well. You are touching many people and they in turn will touch others, Jim. what an amazing gift you are giving. Thank you.