Chasing Life and Baseball

The new show Chasing Life has become a favorite in our family.  There are some threads of story lines that I am not crazy about but I love the cancer story line.  VERY real without being in your face.  There is a scene that I love where the best friend of April (the cancer patient) asks her, "Doesn't it feel good for your news to be out there-now your whole family knows.  No more secrets."  April replies something like, "Yeah, now not only do I get to process my cancer but I get to process everyone else's feelings about it too."  That made me laugh OUT LOUD.

Tonight the mother of April had a meltdown and screamed she was angry.  (Angry at April.  Angry at cancer.  etc. )  My son asked me, "Mom do you ever get like that? Angry?"

I told him, "I have secret fantasies about using your bat to break mirrors, lights, and making things shatter."  I think I shocked him.

After he recovered at the mental image of his mother going postal using his baseball bat, he quipped, "Well you wouldn't use my GOOD bat, right?"
No, never the good bat.  We laughed. (Baseball players are pretty particular about their bats.)

I told him I actually get angry a lot.  But I go behind that closed door (pointed to my room) and get mad.  He said he never saw me angry or show emotion.  I assured him that was my job.  I must make it right for him and the kids. I try not to bring my emotions into their lives as much as I can avoid it.

Still...I dream of the bat and breaking things sometimes. Is that normal?

How He Loves

I don't know whether animals go to heaven or not.  Ike asked.  I told him I didn't know.  However, I did point out that God created animals first (before man) and must love them very much.  He lovingly put every stripe on a zebra, pattern on butterfly wings and thought of every color and shape when he created them.  I listed examples.  Ike just blinked back tears.  I also told him I wasn't sure what the Bible said about animals and heaven but I am sure of one thing-He loves his creations.

Today was a rough day.  A beautiful black lab, Rocket, (our neighbor's dog) has been ill.  He chased "duck dummies".  Rocket placed them at a child's feet or let Ike take it out of his mouth easily.  He was a lumbering giant, but so gentle. My son, who has a hard time making connections with people (although he is growing in this area!), fell in love with Rocket.  We have a pet sitting business so over time our friends used our services.  I made sure those "jobs" went to Ike.  He would do the basic duties but played with Rocket for long periods of time too.  Rocket died on Saturday. I just found out today and told Ike, who crumbled before I even finished the sentence.

His reaction kind of surprised me.  For years, my husband and I worried that he felt too little emotion about people or animals.  But Rocket changed him.  (We have 2 dogs-he doesn't really pay much attention to them.) Ike showed love and compassion for this animal.

People make some unfair judgments about Ike.  It may come from stories that I share about him. It might color perceptions about my child. There have been some very hurtful comments through the years about him or his behavior.  Some true and some just spiteful words against a child they don't have a relationship with and don't know at all. I wish they knew the part about him loving Rocket. He also shows the same adoration to the three year old owner of the dog.  Another growing blessing:)

God bless Ike with love for animals.  Let his love for Science and nature grow.  I care less about how well he adds and subtracts and more about how he loves Jesus and all of his creations.  From the least to the greatest-let him love with no limits.

Before You Speak

I stopped by our favorite breakfast diner for breakfast with my youngest daughter.  The waiter asked about my health (he knows me from my dates with Joe-has seen me go from wearing scarves to hair again.).  Cass was sitting right there so I gave him the two-cent, politically correct version. He told me about his friend “Katy” and how she was dying from stage four cancer.  He started to go into detail about how it was in her brain, bones…  I watched my daughter physically recoil. I immediately interrupted him and changed the subject.  We recovered and ate our breakfast chit-chatting about her up and coming new laptop and ordering a book for her on Amazon. 

On the way back from the bathroom, I ran into a former teacher.   (Also a believer.) We caught up for a few minutes and then he said, “I heard through the grapevine you were sick.”  I briefly explained.  BRIEFLY.  (My little girl was at our table across the room.) He was shocked to hear that I had cancer and then asked, “Can I ask you a question?”  I should know when someone prefaces a question with permission to ask it that it is going to be a whopper or serious.  Sure….why not?  Just standing at Denny’s.  

“Are you scared of dying?”

Yes, that is the question I was asked in the middle of Denny’s.  You would think I would be used to that line of questioning but I am not.  My answer has changed in the last two years.  No, I am not afraid of dying.  I know where I am going.  I am afraid of suffering in front of my children and having them watch.  He wasn’t being malicious-I know as a believer he just wanted to know. Since he asked-I answered. 

I made my way back to the table when the waiter stopped me and said, “CeCe, you have to come meet my friend, Katy.  She is here!  I can’t believe it!  I will introduce you! It will make her feel so much better to talk to you.”  By all means, let’s make Katy feel better! I should have protested.  I kind of tried.  (I love this waiter though-didn’t want to make him feel bad.)  But really….just because I have cancer, doesn’t really mean I can handle meeting someone who is dying. It isn’t a sorority I want to be in.  

He propels me to Katy who is sitting three tables from my daughter.  I put myself between the two of them, trying to shield Cass from hearing or reading lips. I shook the frail woman’s hand.  Frankly, she looked like hell. She asked me what kind of cancer was I fighting and then launched into her battle.  I have to confess, I was shell shocked at that point but very aware of the fact that my daughter was walking up behind me.  I was in the process of retreating (Did I mention I wanted to run out of there?) when I realized my little girl was politely standing beside me.  

Cass is probably the classiest kid-she would rather walk on glass than be rude. Since I knew she had caught the cancer connection, I introduced Katy as a “survivor” and a friend of our waiter’s.  To quell the discussion, I added, “She is undergoing treatment too.”  (Hoping this would be a clue for Katy to censor the details.) 

She replied, “Well, the doctors at MDA have ran out of treatments for me.  There is nothing left.”  

I wanted to yell, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? SHE IS STANDING RIGHT HERE!!!!!! Manners were gone at that point.  I excused myself as quickly as possible.  So fast, in fact, that I almost forgot to pay.  Cass had to remind me.  I threw the money at the clerk and bolted.

As I final blow I got to go to the dentist where I promptly burst into tears with my dental assistant.  (It was behind closed doors and my mouth was bleeding-side effect.  I lost it.).  She had to stop several times just to let me settle down.  Poor thing. I felt so sorry for her.

This is ironic coming from me-someone who talks so freely but the lesson here is just because I have cancer doesn’t make me bullet proof for random cancer related conversation.  I am very open with my story, but there are limits.

Limit #1)

If you are not a close friend, it is probably not cool to ask “Are you scared of dying?” 

Limit #2) I really don’t want to meet someone that is losing the battle just because we are in the same “club”.  I don’t want the membership. I already have friends that are losing the fight and it is hard enough. Don’t need random strangers added to the list.

Limit #3) Think of Travis drawing the old-Alamo-line in the sand…Do not think the “bare all conversation" is ok in front of my kids. They are polite, beyond words, and they seem like they are hanging in there like champs.  But they are my kids. MINE. They are not adults.  I am the one with cancer but they are the ones that truly deal with it-my little soldiers. 

When you speak ask yourself-

Is it kind?

Is it truthful?

Is it necessary?