Car ride confessions

There’s something about the hum-drum of a car ride that seems to offer a space for discussing otherwise touchy subjects.  Ever-present roadside distractions serve as little lifelines just in the event things get too intense.  Some of our most intimate conversations have come out of long car rides.  Yesterday’s trip around town, for instance, offered us the space to really talk about his diagnosis.  This was after Jason Ricci had called and asked Craig how he was taking the prognosis and if he was going to plan anything special for the time ahead.  I followed up and asked if there were any loose ends that needed addressing.  Craig said if anything, he'd like to continue with harmonica, and, of course, travel.  (We're going to figure out a travel destination once he's feeling up to it.  Our only problem is the chemo, which is scheduled every Thursday…we’ll figure it out.)  We talked a bit about his perspective, and what he thinks of the odds.  Interestingly, he's giving himself a year or so as well, but he says he's not really bothered, and that there aren't any loose ends that he really feels need to be tied up. I mentioned that it seems our family has twice had the rug pulled out from under us, and that it’s perfectly rational to feel angry about the prognosis.  At that moment, we both began to cry.  He did say that what really ‘gets to him’ is how this will all play out with our mom, and whether they'll both be able to be strong for each other.  They haven’t had a chance to see each other since the diagnosis, though I think Craig’s planning on traveling to Oklahoma in the next few weeks.  In time, they’ll talk about it with each other…in time.   I’m just grateful for these car ride confessions…these sudden moments where everything’s stripped down to the basics…no job, no pressure, just life, love, and family…and how we’re all trying to get on with it.  Our discussion was brief, yet perfect.  -- J