Let’s be real about this. 

While there are only two weeks left of treatment, cancer has consumed our lives since it came to light. I have felt every awful, putrid, gut wrenching emotion a spouse can feel. And while there are not-so-awful days, none of them feel like the life we left behind on That November Day. And as the doctors told us, the further Brian gets into treatment, the worse he feels. 

How do you find joy during times like these? I’ve felt bad knowing Brian was at home in bed. Not even because I was doing something amazing, but just because I had the luxury of being out of the house. Not having a needle in my arm or pain in my body. 

Sometimes it feels like I’m just waiting. Waiting for treatment to end. Waiting for Brian to feel up to a conversation. Waiting to know what our future holds. 

Joy seems beyond the horizon. 

But I do remember how amazing joy feels. I was grocery shopping at Central Market and came across some dark chocolate covered caramels. I remember the last time I ate that exact type. It was one of the first times I stepped into this house I’ve lived in for almost a year now. Brian had cooked for me. After dinner I wanted something sweet and he pulled them out of the pantry. I remember how the rock salt combined with the dark chocolate was an indulgent combination. How the caramel was no too hard, not too gooey. I remember that by then we were talking about getting my house ready to sell and I was getting to know the dogs, find a job. I remember how strongly I knew Brian was my forever. 

I remember how joyful we were. 

Now it’s our house. Our pantry. Our dogs. Our life. 

I think maybe we were supposed to be together so I could take care of him during this time, although he’s taken care of me during the year as well. Maybe it was so I would never forget that moments shared are more than ticks on the clock. To savor joy. To love fiercely. To not let quality moments slip by because we’re too busy. 

During that grocery run, of course I grabbed a container of caramels and dropped it in my cart. That first bite later in the evening took me back to that extraordinarily ordinary night. A time of true joy. 

I’m looking forward to many more together.  

One Reply to “Joy”

  1. This made me cry. I could taste the salty, chocolatey goo with you. And I love that the joy you found was in something so simple, but that represents a special day full of hope. Keep on keeping on and be the hope.

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