Sure I am soon to be one of the faces of cancer, the cancer patient. For now it is unnoticed. I can be mistaken simply for a woman living life and breezing through with a beautiful family- husband, 2 kids and the ability to live in other parts of the world and travel freely. To some it looks glamourous, to others it is envious. To us, we made the decision to live life on our terms and chase the dream of living abroad which has been one of the best decisions we could have made. For now though, we aren’t living on our terms and perhaps that is what is one of the most challenging aspects of this journey.
My face in this cancer journey is one you might expect at the moment- dazed, confused, overwhelmed, angry, sad, frustrated, heartbroken which is slowly morphing into determined, resilient, focused, relentless, empowered, unshakeable. I haven’t yet sat with the feeling and emotions entirely. They instead pop up in random daily moments… usually the quietest times and most definitely when I am alone.
What you might not expect when you think of cancer is the ripple effect of it all. The incredible toll it takes on your family as well. My life and body will never be the same but neither will theirs.
My dear husband holds everything together from making sure I am not falling apart, to helping with the endless appointments, research, new information coming in daily, taking care of the kids physically/emotionally/mentally and future planning around his own business, logistics of our current life situation and ALL the things. He manages well but there is also pain in his eyes.
There is the agony you see in your young children’s eyes who don’t completely understand all the changes that are taking place or know how to comprehend the changes that are still to come. The tears welling up in their eyes when you have to tell them the anticipated timeline will actually be much longer than we had hoped for and they won’t be returning to school in Barbados with their friends, nor their activities and life they have grown to adore. There is also pain in their eyes as they try to understand and navigate their own emotions around the reality and gravity of “cancer”. Thankfully we are blessed with Preston’s naiveness and adorable commentating from a very empathetic 7 year old. After discussing the fact that mommy will likely get very sick for a little while and will lose her hair, he proceeds to talk the following day about mommy’s plan to get a new haircut… and that will be the end of things and she will get better. It is incredibly sweet and he definitely keeps us smiling. There was a recent heartbreaking moment after an uncharacteristic anger outburst that then resulted in an hour long uncontrollable sobbing episode at midnight where he was able to let out everything he has been carrying- from nervousness about a new school, anxiety about meeting new friends, grief around missing the life he has known and everything in between. We both had tears and that is okay. Every emotion is okay.
On the flip side we then have a very strong-willed and mature 11 year old who better understands what is taking place even though not entirely and her eyes show concern, a delicate balance of asking questions but also managing the emotions those questions evoke and many moments of just silent cuddles. Her eyes fill with tears thinking about the life we are missing and the very big moments that were to take place this particular school year but also a calmness in the fact that we are all in this together and we will get through this to the other side together.
Then there is the pain in the faces of those you love and care about. As a parent you never want your children to experience anything remotely like cancer and the reality of what battle your child is up against is gut wrenching to a parent no matter the age of their “baby”. I see the pain and nervousness in my own parent’s eyes and I am pulling strength and encouragement from the intense battles they have both conquered this past year. For me, my hope and prayer is that I am bearing the brunt of this fight so my babies will never have to face it themselves. Seeing the despair this diagnosis brings to our parents is tough but again we will all get through this together.
For those on the outside looking in and offering so much love and support, we are thankful. Your eyes show sadness yet so much encouragement and positivity.
I am eternally grateful for the face of cancer that emerges from the love, caring and support of those within our circle. This diagnosis has shown us just how wide and deep our circle extends and the prayers and love received from near and far has been overwhelming in the best possible way.
?: Diana Miller Photography Diana Miller
(We are so incredibly grateful for your gift Diana!)
