Giving up some guilt...

This is a very personal letter that I wrote to my oldest daughter, Diva, in late November 2013 during a hospital stay with Phoenix.  There are a couple reasons I chose to share this… if I am sharing the cancer world with you, then this is an obvious part of it.  The siblings of cancer kids go through a totally different kind of hell, and it needs to be acknowledged.  Personally, I am giving up some of the guilt that plagues me, for all that I “couldn’t” do for my first born.

Dear Diva,

I am sorry that I had to miss your first solo in your first show as a Sandpiper.  And it looks like I'm going to miss your performance in Madrigal.  I hate that I had to blow you off this morning when you were asking me if you could go on a lunchdate, because I had to call doctors, and pack overnight bags, and look for a freaking puke bucket.

So, since this is all gushing out at once...lets rewind, and make it worse.

I am so sorry that cancer has to be a part of your existence.  I hate that when you were only 13 years old you had your mom taken from your life without any warning or notice, and that I was missing for at least a year.  You had to rely on your friends, my friends, and your grandparents to make sure you had food and water and school.  Your dad was juggling a thousand things; helping me, and you, and trying to keep working, and continue his other commitments.  The normal life we all had was destroyed in one day, as if a tornado had come through and displaced everything we knew.  I want you to understand that i know all these things... i know it sucked so bad.

I know that what has happened is not fair, or good, or comfortable.  What I hope for you to someday understand,is that I love you, and I only did (and continue to do) the best that I know how to do.

For a year, everything that was important to you was overlooked because of your sister's condition.  I missed your band concerts and choir concerts and school open houses, and who knows what else.  But you haven't let any of that stop you from shining.  I don't know how, but you still went to school everyday and got nearly perfect grades.  You were determined to be first chair with your flute.  You won medals with your science olympiad team.  You tried out for showchoir and made it.  You kept your closest friends and made even more.

It has already been 2 years.  Life has turned into living by doctor appointments, therapy appointments, medicine schedules, and the like.  Fundraisers for the hospitals, for pediatric cancer, for Leukemia, blah blah blah ba blah.  I'm sorry that you are forced into being a part of this world, but I think someday you will appreciate some of what you've seen.  (Particularly that people are kind, giving, caring...and that you are loved by so many).  And we are moving into a new "normal", slowly but surely.  It is not the life we had 2 years ago, and it will never be... but it is a life where we all live under one roof, and we are all moving forward together.

Instead of resenting how much time and attention I have had to spend on your sister, I want you to realize that I love you that much, too... and although I pray that I would never have to, I would and will do that exact same for you.  I am so proud of the person you are.  You are smart, talented, funny, responsible, and beautiful.  Your sister loves you and wants be exactly like you.  You are a part of my heart and soul, and I could never tell you how much I love you.  I feel so lucky to be your mom.

Sent from my iPad