It's amazing how your life can truly change in an instant. How things that mattered so much two days are utterly meaningless to me today. Sean has cancer. It is completely unbelievable to say those words to people or to read them.
It was as if the doctor had walked into the room and punched me in the stomach.
It's hard to look at him. It's hard to touch him. It's hard to hear him laughing with the kids. I wonder, "Will he see Hunter's first day of school?" Did I tell him enough times how deeply I love him? Does he see that look of admiration that I can see in John's eyes when he looks at him? No, you can't have him, cancer. He is OURS.
It's as if we are entwined. He is such a part of me, he is like the very breath that I take. He is perfect for me. Not perfect, but perfect for me. No one has ever loved me deeper, believed in me more vigorously and been a better friend. In November we will be married for 11 years. We have kissed and hugged and touched for almost 17. On Thanksgiving Day it will mark 18 years ago that I met him when I was sure he was not for me and he looked at me and thought to himself, "I am going to marry that girl." Since I was 22 years old. It seems like my whole life. I can't remember a time when he wasn't in my life and I frankly don't want to. I am not sure how to describe how much he means to me. How much I have been honored to be his wife.
Those two children laying sweetly, contentedly in their beds know none of the turmoil that is broiling in their home. They just notice today that Mama is crying a lot. I have got to keep that behind closed doors. They are free, young, untouched by this ugliness and I will keep it that way as long as I can.