Here it is, the final day of February, and I cannot express how quickly this year is moving. March is next and then April which brings my MRI. My thoughts circle around this date with the realization that it’s been almost a whole entire year without a peek inside my brain. A year is the longest I’ve gone since September 2005 without an MRI. Funny, but that time has flown too. Then I had a new baby, a three and a six year old, now they’re four, seven and 10! Then I knew something serious was wrong and now I live with the knowledge that something serious could happen at any moment, to anyone. Life is a gift and none of us are promised a tomorrow and while serious illness forced me to face this fact at a young age; continued life has made me grateful for each moment and each breath.
We have a family tradition of watching the sun go down. When someone notices the sun going down they yell “sunset” and we all drop whatever we’re doing and run outside to watch the final glow of the day. We stand together, in heat, cold, wind, snow…whatever the day has brought, and marvel at the majesty painted in the sky. It’s a wonderful time of reflection and rejoicing.
Sunsets have special meaning for us because after I was diagnosed with cancer, John was driving home praying when he saw a sunset like none he had ever seen before and a had a sudden overwhelming assurance that I was going to be okay. From that day forward, he never wavered in his confidence that I was going to be okay. He headed off my panic, fear, doubt, pain, depression and morbid thoughts by continually reassuring me that I was going to be okay. And now that I am okay, I don’t want to waste a single second of the time I’ve been given, nor miss an opportunity to be awed by a sunset.
