Letting Go
I’m writing an extra blog post this week because I have lots of feels going on with my mom and sister going back home and with my daughter graduating and already feeling life getting a lot quieter. Life is bittersweet. Ups and downs. That rollercoaster of emotions I compared my first journey with cancer to.
I have always felt a tremendous amount of responsibility for my children. I think it’s the perfectionist in me. I feel this sense of responsibility even more as an adoptive mom. I raised my three older adopted kids wanting to make up for all the lessons and things they missed when they were young. And I always felt like I was failing them, at least my boys, the older two. They had so many things to learn – big things, to me, like respect, social skills, attachment, and empathy -- and little things like being touched and smiling, feelings – and I feel like I failed them because I could not teach them everything I wanted to teach them. My husband always reminds me that there is no way I could make up for everything they hadn’t had when they were little. And I know, deep down, that parents of biological parents feel like failures sometimes, too, and they probably feel like they haven’t taught their kids everything they need to know before they leave the nests and spread their wings to fly either.
I am writing about this in my cancer blog because it is hard to “let go” of your kids when you’re dying. I can’t imagine having little kids. I can’t even let my mind go there; I know it would be a different kind of journey for me if I had young kids. This week, I am feeling very thankful and very blessed that I reached my goal of living until my youngest daughter’s graduation. And I know it had nothing to do with me. I can’t help but wonder if my time is running out, if things will change. I feel like I can die and everything will be OK now. I feel like I can “let go” now. I feel very much at peace on my journey now. I see how people can survive and make it to some point of time or event and then “let go.”
But I am still here. And I want to survive as long as possible. I’m just sort of wondering what next? I am in this place where everything is good and stable, and I should be content. To survive this cancer, I’m always focused on the next step. But things have been so good for so long now that I can’t help but wonder, what next? I read an article about a new molecule that is supposed to destroy hard to treat cancers, including triple negative. I think my new goal will be to live until that goes to trial. Instead of focusing on what’s next for me, I’m going to focus on what’s next for triple negative cancer.
When I was graduating from high school, I listened to Suzy Bogguss’ Letting Go a lot because it was going to be hard to be so far from my mom, my best friend (even though it was only 70 minutes!), and now the lyrics are coming to mind when I think of my daughter leaving for college in the fall. I’ve never been one to try to hold onto my kids – I want them to go out and spread their wings and have adventures and see new things, even if it takes them far away from me. But there will be tears, possibly sobbing, on the plane or on the drive home after dropping my daughter off at school. All I ever wanted was to have a relationship with my daughter as close as my mom and I had always been. What I didn’t expect is that my daughter would also have that special relationship with my mom, and for that I am grateful. And it will make letting go ultimately easier knowing she will have my mom. I made it to my daughter’s graduation, and I am so happy. And I’m happy that instead of thinking that I can die now or worrying that my cancer will come back now, I am more determined than ever to keep being positive, to keep doing everything I am doing, whatever that may be that is working, and live for a very long time. But when it is my time to go, and if it is from cancer, I’ve been thinking that I want my friends and family to send me a song from some memory or time that is memorable to us and have my caretakers play them for me when I am at the point of being sedated and asleep most of the time to comfort me. One of my aunts who died from cancer had her family and friends send her memories via text. I thought that was pretty special. I remember my great grandmother telling me to remember that even in the worst of times, there has always been music and dance. So, I think songs would be a comfort to me. I know I’ll be thinking of Suzy Bogguss’ lyrics. The lyrics will be there when I need them, whenever I get my wings and fly, but not yet …
She'll take the painting in the hallway,
The one she did in junior high,
And that old lamp up in the attic,
She'll need some light to study by,
She's had 18 years,
To get ready for this day,
She should be past the tears,
She cries some anyway.
Chorus:
Ohho letting go.
Theres nothing in the way now
Ohh letting go,
Theres room enough to fly,
And even though, she's spent her whole time waiting
It's never easy, ohh letting go.
Mother sits down at the table,
So many things she'd like to do,
Spend more time out in the garden,
Now she can get those books read too,
She's had 18 years,
To get ready for this day
She should be past the tears,
She cries some anyway.
Chorus:
Ohho letting go.
Theres nothing in the way now
Ohh letting go,
Theres room enough to fly,
And even though, she's spent her whole time waiting
It's never easy, ohh letting go.
Chorus:
Ohho letting go.
Theres nothing in the way now
Ohh letting go,
Theres room enough to fly,
And even though, she's spent her whole time waiting
It's never easy, ohh letting go...