Pediatric cancer (and frankly, any childhood illness) is a family diagnosis.
Sam has cancer.
He has the disease, no question. He's the one who puts up with the meds and the discomfort and the pain and the illness.
But we're all affected. The whole family.
And it sucks.
(I might someday write a book about how our whole community is affected. But I digress.)
Look, I know we put up a good front. We are together, we are strong, we are united. My kids do a great job of loving each other and being together and taking care of each other. But there are always cracks in our veneer. They bicker and fight, they worry about fairness and who gets what and why do you let him get away with that or why does she always want to do it her way or who gets to read the next page and who gets the last banana and who has to sit next to the baby and who gets to sit next to the baby and why does dad go there and when is mom coming home and where are my shoes? (And this doesn't even begin to address the strain on us, the parents.)
|Might be my all-time favorite picture of these two...|
|Does your baby brother count as a "chick magnet"?|
|They totally didn't want to leave him behind.|
|The Fearsome Foursome|
It's not perfect.
There was squabbling over who got to read what page and who got to brush their teeth first and....I think you get it.
It's not perfect but it's what we've got.
They might not get it all. They might not understand today what we're doing and why. They might be sad or angry or frustrated (heck, we are!) but at the end of the day, they know that their parents are tucking them in at night and we are here for and with them....they know that they are their own team....
I'm terrified of what's to come. But I know what we've got to hold onto...
|Imperfect Family Photo...|