So Many Unshed Tears

Cassie in our back yard and the walking trail I created , 4 April 2019

In December of 2017, Tom was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer, a diagnosis that came as such a shock for an 8X marathon runner and, we thought, such a healthy person. Since that diagnosis, our lives have greatly changed. It's as if the future suddenly collapsed, a cliff's edge that moves forward just a bit every day that Tom continues to live. If we focus on our changed situation, we suddenly are standing at the abyss, overcome with grief over a future that seems to have hauled ass and jumped.

We are now 16 months into that diagnosis. Chemotherapy worked for about a year, and now Tom is in a clinical trial with, as yet, an uncertain outcome. The hardest part for me is seeing my 60-year old husband go from a man who could run marathons to a man who is often in severe pain, unable to do the activities that brought him so much satisfaction. Second to that is coping with the damage to our hopes and dreams for a shared retirement. Of course, we continue to hope--that this treatment will work, that we will have a lot more time together--but we are also realistic. And in the recognition that we might not have that time dwells so many unshed tears, so many unvoiced cries of despair and sorrow.

 I have no words of wisdom for dealing with such sorrow. Sometimes we share our grief, but mainly we just handle each day as it comes. 

Tom continues to work, at his place of employment when we're home and remotely when we have to be away for cancer treatment. I stay busy with housework or the art car project I started before Tom's diagnosis. When we're home, I work in the yard--as I did today, weeding-- or do housework or some of the chores that we once shared. We just carry on the best we can.

Friends who read this post can contact me for more information on Tom's health. Tom is private and doesn't want me to provide many details online. 

Meanwhile, I hope to come back here to write about the progress of my art car, about what we're experiencing outside the big "C" that looms over everything now in our lives.

Persey in the back yard, 4 April 2019

My herb beds: We had a very cold winter, but most of the perennials are sprouting.