Learning: cancer and death from my childhood may help me understand and love our kids!

It’s a weird sense of excitement!

 I never would’ve thought that some of my troubles in life would be to my benefit (or my kids or others), but that seems to be the case over and over again. 

As a child, my mom was usually bedridden. She was battling cancer through my first eight years of life, and I think before my conception.   I was walking home from school as a third grader, shortly after my eighth birthday, with my friends. The fire truck was parked in front of my house. I walked in the front door to see some adult friends from church, and they looked rather gloomy.  They informed me that my mom had just died in the hospital. They asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I recall denying the opportunity to talk, then asked if I could go play soccer with my friends.  I was given permission, and so I went. It never felt like a loss. Rather, it was just another day in eternity. Grateful for my religious testimony that she helped me develop, I understood where she was going and that I would see her again. I remember at her funeral having someone pick me up to get me close enough to kiss her on her cold cheek.  My mother was gone, but I never mourned.  

 Oddly, I cannot recall a time I have shed a tear for losing her.  

 I have never blamed it on anyone. It was just life. Emotionless life. She was emotionless. Most days she took narcotics for her pain in quantities that would rival a drug addict. I’ve never pieced this together.  Am I emotionless because she was?

 I cherish the couple stories I have heard of her vitality and youth, her jovial demeanor and sociability, her creativity and outgoing nature. I do long to know her better.  In the next life.

 Our dear children, not yet in our home, may or may not struggle with feelings of loss.  They may or may not have feelings of fear and anger.  What I found interesting in what I read today was that most of the behavior an adopted child presents with are very descriptive of both myself, our second child, and our fourth child.  

 Our second child  was about eight years old when I deployed to Iraq for 15 months. Prior to my deployment, he was a very hearty eating and jovial child. He did a complete 180 after I left, and it took years to recover. Then again, as I read this book, I do not think neither he nor I  have taken time to mourn. Consequently, we still struggle at times. 

 Our fourth child was born shortly after moving to our current town when we started a business. As any business owner will attest, the first couple years are usually the hardest. I believe she has suffered for that. 

 At least now I have some greater understanding of what has happened, what is currently happening, and what can happen with our future as I change how I act today. 

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