9.19.19 … 9.9 Years and Counting Towards 10

9.19.19

The moon and the moonlight has been so beautiful these past nights. Actually all summer long, the full moon has been stunning. Glowing, intense, alive. There’s something about summer nights that really affects me. Energizing and Renewing me. The peacefulness of night, the calm of the end of another day. The hint of the night’s cool stillness coming, stars sparkling, twinkling mysteriously in the sky. The crickets clicking, the owls hooting, the night birds chirping, as they settle in the oak trees for the night. Moonbeams shining down on the horses, as they relax from the hot day of waring with biting flies. The moon, a magical flashlight from the heavens, bathing everything in a soft glitter. I love the warmth of summer nights, and soon, the crispness of summer ebbing into fall. I contemplate another day battled, another day survived. Giving me hope, but also giving me sadness.

Every night, after the challenges of the day, I “escort” the 3 little doggies outside for their nightly pee.  They’re so funny how they won’t “do their business” without me actually walking out with them.  But this is how I get to see and feel the magic of night. This is how I get to see and feel the moon, that most miss, by going to bed early. My nightly routine has become me putting Jim to bed, sometimes easy, sometimes an ordeal… more an ordeal when I am not well from weekly chemo side effects. You know that feeling when you Just Want To Be In Bed…. Like Now! And you don’t want to deal with Any Thing Else? That’s my Tuesday and Wednesday nights. The yucky side effects creeping in, dragging me down, sucking me into awfulness. Nausea, achyness, swollen, bloat, that metallic taste in my mouth, headachy. That over-all chemo crash yuckiness, the punched in the gut, I might get “sick” feeling,… but when I’m outside, no matter how awful I feel, the moon and the beauty of the night, somehow replenishes my spirit and gives me hope to move forward to yet another day.

But as serene and energizing and peaceful this can be, it also triggers sadness in me. A sadness some may find selfish, but it’s a profound loss type sadness. Being outside at night, especially on warm, moonlit summer nights, reminds me of days gone by… summer nights full of life, fun, laughter. Summer moonlit horseback rides, summers full of health, happiness, and a sense of carefree that only youth and health allow. I love these moonlit nights, but they make me sad now. I feel so much loss. I am so aware of what I put off, of what I didn’t do, of what I didn’t accomplish… that now, I’ll never be able to do. Don’t get mad at me for saying “never”. I have to accept my fate. Our fate. Our body betrayals. Being outside at night slams my realities in my face. The beauty of the night, of the moon, only intensifies my losses. Yes, I have so much to be grateful for, but summer nights make me so sad, so aware of what can never be again…
I always look up to the heavens, to the night sky, to the moon and stars and cry out, laugh out… WHY? WHY me? WHY us? How come? How did two people wind up so sabotaged? 2 incurable, terminal illnesses at the same time. I know, I know. The world is full of unfair stories. Everyone has challenges. Everyone has mountains to climb. Rare is it the person or family that plans, and those plans, dreams come true. Most stories are of unrealized dreams, of deep sadness and loss. I know, I know, I am so very “lucky” in so many ways… but I hurt deep inside my core. I am sad. I am frustrated. I am devastated for our losses. For what could have been, that cannot be now. Warm summer nights remind me of what was, what could have been. What should have been… 
The doggies circle around me, sensing something. They tentatively lick my leg, or hand. Their tails wag in happiness. They have no idea my sadness. Neither do the horses. They have no idea how I miss those warm summer nights with them, hearing their barefoot hoofs softly, silently impact the cooling dusty earth beneath them. How I miss the breeze whispering through their manes, where I hold the reins. I miss the sweet scent of horse sweat under my saddle. The owls hoot, the night birds quietly chirp, the crickets click, and the horses swish their tails, while scratching and grooming each other, before finding that perfect spot to lay down for the night. They have no idea my sadness. They have no idea how I miss them, even though they are right there. The stars sparkle and wink, the moon shines brighter, lighter…  I pull myself together… I force acceptance on myself. I shake my head, but I can’t shake the “Why”… But I am grateful, no matter how sad I am. I am grateful for the life we still have, and the miracle that I am still here, 9.9 years after my myeloma diagnosis. I am still here. I am still here…