Milestones

My daughter graduated from high school yesterday. She's my youngest. My boys are 22 and 20, already in college.

When I was diagnosed, I didn't think I was going to see any of that.

My birthday comes in a couple of weeks. I'll be 52.

I wasn't sure I was going to see that, either.

It's hard to come to a milestone and not see it through the eyes of a cancer patient.

When I was diagnosed, I was 40 years old. My kids were 10, 8, and 6. I remember praying, Please give me five years. If they're 16, 14, and 12, maybe they'll be old enough to be OK. I went through my list of friends that I wanted to keep an eye on my sons. My wife could do plenty for my daughter, and she could take care of my sons, too. But I wanted someone who could be a role model for how to be a good man.

I remember, soon after I was diagnosed, thinking of an old friend who had married a wonderful woman, and who had gained a teenage son, whose own father had died when he was 11. The teenager was such a great kid. And I remembered that this teenager was getting social security checks until he turned 18 because he had a deceased parent. I can still feel the weight that was lifted off of me when I realized that my own kids might benefit from that, too, if something happened to me.


It's amazing to think about the kinds of things that go through our heads at a time like that. We imagine a future without us. (But without trying not to think too much about the details.)

And as we watch and wait, and get treatment, and do better, we move forward into that future. But we don't always look back. Better to live in the present than to think about what might have been.

(I'm arrogant enough that I don't want to imagine a world that doesn't have the joy of having me in it.)

I do think there's some value in looking back. It's always good to remember where you came from. Sometimes even looking back a few weeks is good. We should remind ourselves that we made it through difficult times, and we'll have the strength to make through the next difficult time, too.


But today, I'm looking to the future. My daughter will start college in September, at a school that she is very excited about. My oldest will graduate from college in September, and he's already looking to what will come next for him. My middle child has a couple of years left, but he's already finding his place and enjoying lots of success.

All of this means that my wife and I will be "empty nesters" in a few months (at least for parts of the year). And we're looking forward to that new part of our lives, too. My wife has been my rock since I was diagnosed (and before, of course). We're happy to see where life takes us next.

Lots of uncertainty, too -- with me, with my wife, with all of our kids. But we're used to that. Better to stay hopeful and be positive about it.

It's a good day.