About the Rest of the Family
Facing a life threatening illness certainly has a profound impact on the individual, but it also affects the entire family (and everyone close to the person). Many people have been asking me how Bo and the kids are doing so I thought I would write about someone other than myself for a refreshing change.
It will surprise no one that Bo, who has always been a pillar of strength for me, who has supported everything I have ever done or wanted to do, who has loved everything little thing about me, imperfections and all, is securing his nomination for sainthood. He was holding my hand when the radioligist told me I had cancer, and I know he will hold my hand forever. He has accompanied me to every medical appointment or procedure and will continue to do so. He wears a pink breast cancer awareness wristband that he plans to "sport" until I am cancer free. When I went for my first chemo treatment, he confidently announced, "This is the beginning of the end of the cancer." He has said that our first and only priority this year is to get me well. (Hmmm... I wonder if that means he will forego deerhunting this fall.)
Bo came into my life, via my front yard and wielding a weedeater, during the last year of my Mom's life. I didn't think I needed anyone, we "independent" women never think we do, but Someone knew better. Bo helped me in so many ways before, during, and after my Mom's own courageous struggle with breast cancer. I was grateful that my Mom was able to see me genuinely happy for probably the first time in my entire life, and that she died knowing that her daughter was loved deeply by a very good and kind man. I believed at the time that Bo was heaven sent, and I know it now to be true. I cannot imagine being on this journey without him, but the beautiful thing is, I don't have to imagine it. In sickness and in health, Bo, is by my side.
Bo is holding up very well. We talk about everything together, and he also has close friends with whom he is able to share his feelings. I have encouraged him to maintain all his activities and to continue plans to go bear hunting next spring in Alberta, Canada. One of the many positive things that will come from this cancer experience will be an even stronger marriage, and for that, I am grateful.
We told Clay (6) and Cole (7) that I have breast cancer and that I will get better. Lance (3 later this month) doesn't understand what is happening but is definitely aware of the changed dynamics. He has been left with family and friends a lot during the last few weeks while Bo and I have scurried from one medical appointment to another. He has become quite clingy and will not leave my side when he has any choice in the matter.
Cole's biggest concern is that I am going to lose my hair. For some reason, he doesn't want that to happen even though I told him that Mom and Dad would now match. Clay pulled out his guitar one evening, and while casually seated on the bed, strummed a song for me. It had several lines to it, but all I remember is "My Mom has breast cancer, and her hair is going to fall out." If their most dramatic memory from the upcoming year is seeing my bare head, I will be so happy!
A new friend, Peggy, a breast cancer survivor with whom a client put me in touch, sent a wig and an assortment of bandanas to me last week. It was a nice cranial prosthesis, but too light for my coloring. When Bo put it on, Lance walked into the kitchen and did a double take, and Luke, our white lab, went into defensive mode. It was the first time I had ever really seen Bo with hair, and aside from the surfer dude image (or maybe because of the surfer dude image), it looked way better on him than me! Truth be told, it was actually kind of cute and sexy! Clay and Lance both tried it on, so I was able to get a glimpse of what a little Gibson girl may have looked like. Cole, as much as we cajoled, refused to submit to the wig wearing antics, but we all laughed a lot that morning. I have pictures!
So all in all, the entire Gibson family is doing really well. Love and laughter will see us through.
It will surprise no one that Bo, who has always been a pillar of strength for me, who has supported everything I have ever done or wanted to do, who has loved everything little thing about me, imperfections and all, is securing his nomination for sainthood. He was holding my hand when the radioligist told me I had cancer, and I know he will hold my hand forever. He has accompanied me to every medical appointment or procedure and will continue to do so. He wears a pink breast cancer awareness wristband that he plans to "sport" until I am cancer free. When I went for my first chemo treatment, he confidently announced, "This is the beginning of the end of the cancer." He has said that our first and only priority this year is to get me well. (Hmmm... I wonder if that means he will forego deerhunting this fall.)
Bo came into my life, via my front yard and wielding a weedeater, during the last year of my Mom's life. I didn't think I needed anyone, we "independent" women never think we do, but Someone knew better. Bo helped me in so many ways before, during, and after my Mom's own courageous struggle with breast cancer. I was grateful that my Mom was able to see me genuinely happy for probably the first time in my entire life, and that she died knowing that her daughter was loved deeply by a very good and kind man. I believed at the time that Bo was heaven sent, and I know it now to be true. I cannot imagine being on this journey without him, but the beautiful thing is, I don't have to imagine it. In sickness and in health, Bo, is by my side.
Bo is holding up very well. We talk about everything together, and he also has close friends with whom he is able to share his feelings. I have encouraged him to maintain all his activities and to continue plans to go bear hunting next spring in Alberta, Canada. One of the many positive things that will come from this cancer experience will be an even stronger marriage, and for that, I am grateful.
We told Clay (6) and Cole (7) that I have breast cancer and that I will get better. Lance (3 later this month) doesn't understand what is happening but is definitely aware of the changed dynamics. He has been left with family and friends a lot during the last few weeks while Bo and I have scurried from one medical appointment to another. He has become quite clingy and will not leave my side when he has any choice in the matter.
Cole's biggest concern is that I am going to lose my hair. For some reason, he doesn't want that to happen even though I told him that Mom and Dad would now match. Clay pulled out his guitar one evening, and while casually seated on the bed, strummed a song for me. It had several lines to it, but all I remember is "My Mom has breast cancer, and her hair is going to fall out." If their most dramatic memory from the upcoming year is seeing my bare head, I will be so happy!
A new friend, Peggy, a breast cancer survivor with whom a client put me in touch, sent a wig and an assortment of bandanas to me last week. It was a nice cranial prosthesis, but too light for my coloring. When Bo put it on, Lance walked into the kitchen and did a double take, and Luke, our white lab, went into defensive mode. It was the first time I had ever really seen Bo with hair, and aside from the surfer dude image (or maybe because of the surfer dude image), it looked way better on him than me! Truth be told, it was actually kind of cute and sexy! Clay and Lance both tried it on, so I was able to get a glimpse of what a little Gibson girl may have looked like. Cole, as much as we cajoled, refused to submit to the wig wearing antics, but we all laughed a lot that morning. I have pictures!
So all in all, the entire Gibson family is doing really well. Love and laughter will see us through.
posted by Mary @ 8:18 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home