On Fridays, I play a lyric challenge on my Facebook page. I post a lyric, usually from a 1970’s song, and people guess what song/artist it is. Sometimes, if it’s around a holiday or event, I try to pick something fitting. Tim texted me shortly after leaving for work this morning. He said, “lyric challenge-Butterfly Kisses- on 95.5 now.” I turned the radio on to hear the end of the song. I looked up the lyrics and chose the verse that had to do with a daughter’s sweet 16 birthday, which is what the song was written about, and also what we are celebrating with Olivia right now, and fitting for Father’s Day weekend. I text Tim back and tell him he is an old softy, beneath that tough exterior. He replies, admitting the song made him tear up. I post the lyric challenge on my FB page and then break down sobbing at my kitchen table, because, I know why Tim misted up. Most people would choke up at this song, thinking about how fast their kid(s’) childhood went. But, for Tim, it’s something more. Much more. He doesn’t know how long he has with her. He made her sweet 16. We are taking her and 17 friends camping next weekend to celebrate. But, he cries for a different reason. He thinks about all he might miss. I sobbed for that same reason. Because, as excruciating as this all is for me, I cannot even imagine how painful it is to be the one who might leave and miss so much more. I pull myself together, thinking, “if I let myself go too far down into this grief, I don’t know how I’ll get out.” Then, I see one of those pop-up news items about an Australian rock band member, who just died this morning, after fighting multiple myeloma for 7 years. He must have been diagnosed around the same time as Tim. So, the waterworks start again. My poor sister called from VT in the middle of this, and I cried even more trying to explain what was wrong. Tim and I get a slight reprieve from this MM stuff, only going to the doctor in 3 month intervals, and the fact that he is not on treatment, gives us as normal a life as we can get, under the circumstances, BUT, it is always right there. Reality doesn’t take a vacation, not if you’re of sound mind. The tears, the fear, the grief. It lays there, right under the surface, and, sometimes, all it takes is a song, or a memory, or a statement, or a news item and it all comes out. Like a volcano, the pressure builds up and then it all blows.Who knew there’d be days like these.