My darling pup has cancer. Actually, he has cancer again. The first time, we were able to successfully treat it and received a clean bill of health from our vet. This time, it came back in a place that means we will not win the war.
My favorite quote of late is:
” Cancer makes a mockery of the idea that we can stand on our own two feet. When we are rendered helpless by disease and mortality, we have nothing but our faith, our friends, and above all, our family to carry us.” – Rod Dreher, after his sister passed away from cancer
The first time the little guy had cancer, he was diagnosed 10 short months after my dad passed away from inoperable cancer. My dad followed my grandma, who had passed away about a year prior (also from cancer).
Cancer is around us all the time, every day. And we are fighting the battles better than ever. Ultimately, however, we lose the war…this great gift of life on earth comes with a brutal price tag: that we have to give it up eventually.
My life has taught me about this price, lessons hard to bear and that I wish I had not learned. Nonetheless, I can say this: my faith is sure. It is for those who fight the war without this faith, without knowing that there is more after we leave this earth, that my heart breaks to see. Whatever the religious affiliation assigned to it, people with faith in that great ‘More’ have hope. Hope that sustains them in the most unyielding moments that cancer can bring.
Today we got good news in our battle. The regrowth of his cancer is relatively slow…and because he is so advanced in age already, it may be the medications that overly tax his system and not the cancer in the end. Every day, I wake up knowing that we’re on borrowed time together…and it makes me more present for him than ever.
As my dear friend said to me recently, “It’s a gift that you are able to make his last days so great. That after two weeks of surgery and recovery, you’ve been granted month after month of good days, days where he is joyful and energetic and his old self.” And it is so true. I’m incredible grateful for the gift of this time. And, for the gift of being able to manage his last days to prevent undue suffering on his part. I get to make sure he enjoys every last minute on this earth and wastes none to this unyielding disease.
For the summer kick-off holiday, we’re going to his favorite farm to stay a few days. He’ll get to run around and chase chickens and be petted and adored by everyone there who loves him almost as much as I do. And I will stand there with a tear in my eye and a smile on my face because it will be one of those perfect moments…that blend of love bursting through your heart too big to hold and the knowledge that it cannot and will not last forever in this world.
Overly Honest 