Smiling

Sometimes I’ll just sit here and watch him sleep, his quiet snore a nice distraction.  He looks so small in his bed.  As the nurse says, “he just kind of blends in”.  He’s been moaning a lot more and it seems nothing eases his pain.  I can give him meds and a heat pack for his back, but really, this is one man’s journey through cancer.  In the space between pessimism and optimism is our strange reality.  It takes a certain level of dexterity to battle through all that we have and sometimes it’s hard to keep moving when our little green pasture seems like a mine field, and the hope we cling to seems so bleak.  Yet still we manage, and I think doing a darn good job of it.  I was telling our story to a good friend of mine, who, by happenstance, was in Denver for a week before traveling on to Nepal via Bangkok.  When telling her the latest, she softly said ‘and still you smile’.  I smile because I’m happy.  Through all this profound sadness, I’m honestly happy.  I’m able to be with one of my best friends as he goes through this important process.  I get to witness the snoring, the moans and groans, the long-winded Checkers games with Emily, the strange little sayings like ‘your evil is growing tiresome’.  We realize that the time we have together is the time we have.  We’re doing our best to make the most of it, while keeping things as normal and natural as possible.  We continue to fill our days with laughter when it counts, and tears when they're necessary.   Though being here is hard, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I’m grateful for my brother.  I’m grateful for our little pod called family.  I’m grateful to be here.  That’s why I smile.  -- J