My daughter, her husband, and their two children moved in with us while their new house was being built. This physical closeness (there were six of us in a very small house!) gave us all a chance to develop a spiritual closeness as well.
My daughter has a wonderful heart and cares deeply about almost everything. I, of course, already knew this – I raised her after all – but living in such close quarters I was reminded of it.
One evening in particular we were watching a movie in which the main character got cancer. When I see such a movie of course it makes me think of my situation with leukemia. But I’m still at a stage where I feel pretty good most of the time and I don’t have to always focus on my health. So I forget that others are affected by my illness, in someways even more deeply than myself.
Anyway, after the movie was done I went into the kitchen to get something and she followed me in. Her eyes were wet with tears as she hugged me saying she didn’t want to lose me. We stood there hugging for a short while and I tried to reassure her that I had many years left and everything would be okay.
But this loving moment she gave me served to remind me how deeply this leukemia thing is affecting my family. When I’m having good days I wish there was a way to really make them understand that I’m doing well. I mean, I do have days when I get tired easily or have other annoying issues, but the leukemia is a part of me now and, fortunately for the time being, Leuk is taking it relatively easy on me.
So I forget the reality of it all. It might sound strange to those who don’t have leukemia, but there are times when I feel quite normal and forget I have it. But my words are never adequate to express how I’m thinking inside. And naturally no one has the ability to really feel what I’m feeling.
I guess what I’m getting at is this wonderful woman, my daughter, was expressing with tears and worry and sadness, her love for me. I will be forever grateful for that love, and the love I receive from all my family. But my hope is that my daughter, my son, my wife, and the rest of the family can somehow really understand where I’m at.
I love them all so much and I must remember that Leuk has invaded their lives too. My loving daughter’s tears made that very clear.
So thank you my family. I love you all so much. And try not to worry too much. My CLL might just continue moving slowly and I’ll make it to a ripe old age. Or Leuk could pick up speed and I will have fewer years than expected. Either way it will be alright because the one thing he can’t take away is the love we all share.