Life is good

If you haven't seen any cars with stickers proclaiming that "Life is good" you will now!  I can't really remember when I saw that little round sticker the first time, but for several months now I have wanted one for the back of my minivan.  I have made many jokes about how we're living the dream up here in Cumming, driving my son to soccer practice in my minivan.  But the fact is, this is everything I have ever wanted from my life.  I am married to a fabulous, funny man, have the two most gorgeous, healthy children on the planet, a job I love and care about, living in a house that exceeds our needs, and am driving the nicest car I have ever owned (it has leather, heated seats for goodness sake!).  When Jason and I celebrated our 10th anniversary in June we talked about if we were where we thought we'd be when we got married in 1999.  For almost my entire life I have been looking forward to the next thing.  I was not a "live in the moment" kind of gal.  That drive has led to a lot of good things in my life, but it has its drawbacks as well.  I missed out on some enjoyment of some pretty significant things in my life because I only saw that thing as a stepping stone to the next thing.
That started to change when I was pregnant with Harper.  You have to understand that the 2 years I spent as an "infertile" women really scarred me.  Even after conceiving and birthing Garrett, I still felt infertile. Finally having him and joining the "mommy" club went a long way towards healing me, but it wasn't until we conceived Harper so easily (so normally) that I was able to step back and see my life and my story from God's point of view. I realized that though I felt entitled to a fabulous, easy life, I was never promised one.  And yet, after the "bump" in the road that was infertility, that was exactly what God was giving me. I know I've probably said it dozens of times here, but going from thinking I was never going to get to have one biological child to getting to conceive, carry, and birth two was more than I could wrap my brain around.  I began to "stop and smell the roses".  I knew that most likely Harper's would be my last pregnancy, so I tried to enjoy every minute of it.  I knew her infant stage would fly by in an instant, so I tried to enjoy that (and for the most part succeeded, though I am more fully convinced that I am not a baby person!).  And here I sit in the last fall I will ever experience with two small children who are not yet in school.  The game totally changes for us next year when my little man steps onto that school bus.
Are you wondering where I'm going with all this? Be patient, I'm getting to my point, I promise!
When we moved into our new home last summer, it was a real turning point in my life.  I felt a sense of peace and contentment that I had truly never known.  I have no desire to race to the next thing.  Our life is so good here and getting better with each passing day. The minivan was like icing on top of an already beautiful cake.  I was finally there.  That elusive place I had been chasing almost my whole life.
I have to be honest, after a few months of this wonderful feeling, I wondered when the other shoe was going to drop.  I knew that it couldn't be that good, that peaceful forever.  But I really tried hard not to live in that place of anticipating fear.
And then came that crazy day in May when I sat in the doctor's office and heard him utter the word "tumor" followed by the phrase "but also".  Little did I know that "but also" would consume the next almost 6 months of my life. And today, I sit here radioactive from a treatment for a cancer that required not one, but two surgeries. I am facing a future with a lot more doctor's appointments than I would like.  I am slowly wrapping my brain around the fact that things are never going back to "normal", that this is my new normal.  Most days I feel optimistic and "normal".  Other days I feel very depressed and somewhat beaten down. I am tired a lot.  I have less patience with my children than I would like to admit. Some days I want to immerse myself in the triviality of life and other days I am horrified by that same triviality. I try not to worry.  Sometimes I succeed. When I don't, I try to pinpoint what exactly my fear is.  And what I have realized is that I'm afraid I won't get to lead my fabulous life. I want to go to Hawaii on our 25th wedding anniversary. I want to rent an RV and drive to the Grand Canyon with my family. I want to watch my kids move their tassel from one side to the other. And watch my son beam as his bride walks down the aisle toward him and watch my husband walk my daughter down the aisle towards her groom. I want to be at the hospital when my grandbabies are born. I want all the things I don't even know I want yet.
I have not been given any reason to think that I won't get to experience all those things, but I'm back to the realization that though I feel entitled to those wants, I am not promised them.  However, I'm also back to the place where I realize that God is a good dad who wants to give good things to his children.  And though I would never classify the last 6 months as a gift, they are.  To be reminded of my mortality, that life is precious, that life is in the every day, not the spectacular, is a gift.  One that allows me to enjoy the blessings of my life more fully.
So, yes, I have hit a bump in the road and yes, it is hard.  But still, I find myself thinking life is good.

I have added a link to the "life is good" company to my links (under the main picture).  Christmas is coming and they have lots of cute things. I will post more on the radioactive part of my treatment tomorrow.