Every Breath Counts

Can I just be really blunt? Good. Cancer sucks. True story. Cancer has touched every aspect of my life. Don't ask me to financially support one cancer over another, because I won't. They are all worthy of eradication.

I have a fabulous cousin that fought a NASTY melanoma. I thank God that her husband and children still have her. Another cousin and several friends have fought breast cancer. I thank God they're here too. My husband has had Melanoma twice. I thank God for doctors that check him like a momma monkey checking her young because both were caught very early.

My mom...she had cancer twice. We were given four fabulous years between the first diagnosis and the second. We prayed, others prayed, she prayed, for her healing. You know what? God did heal her. He just chose to heal her perfect. Does it hurt that He chose to heal her that way? Any answer other than yes would be an outright lie. Am I thankful on some level that He took her home? Again yes.

I, more than anyone, know "our" story. The heartaches throughout life. The hurts. The losses. The battles. She was ready. Do I have any regrets? Just one - and it's not even mine to carry. Had the choice been mine, I would've chosen no treatment. Why? Because deep down I think we all knew it wasn't going to work. I would've liked for her last months to have been without sickness and without pain of any kind. However, the choice wasn't mine. I fully and wholeheartedly supported her decision - one I didn't agree with. And I knew the decision had been made for her child and grandchildren. Watching her hurt, watching her suffer, watching her deteriorate before my very eyes SUCKED!!! Do you hear me? It sucked. I cried. It broke my heart. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Why? Every breath counts.

I was blessed enough in my life to get to be with the two people who gave me life as their earthly lives ended. Was it hard? Gosh, yes. I'm so thankful I was there. Every breath they took in their lives counted - including the last one.

Should the good Lord choose to take my dear, sweet husband first, I want the privilege of being there when that last sweet breath is taken and God calls him home. I pray that he would want to be with me. It's important.

You see, all of it counts. It's all important. Every single piece of our lives is important. Do I EVER want him to suffer in any capacity? NO. If that's the plan - suffering - I want to be with him. See, I love him. Love isn't just the good stuff. Sometimes it's really ugly and really painful and that stinks. But loving him means I want every aspect of his life intertwined with mine. Yes, that includes the pain.

Because every single breath he takes counts. Every single breath I take counts. Every single breath you take counts. Somebody wants to be there for each of them.

Sometimes, love hurts. It hurts a lot. Especially when we're near the end of life. I knew my mother was dying Tuesday, August 5th. The last words my mother ever spoke to me were "thank you." She never really regained consciousness much after that. But EVERY breath between that moment and 12:49 am, Thursday, August 7th counted! I thank God for each of them. I wouldn't have rushed through or missed any of them even though they were soul-crushingly painful.

Our last breath should never be at a time of our choosing. To do so, cheats us and our loved ones of vital breaths that count. No matter how much we might want to, we cannot protect our loved ones from the pain of losing us if we die before they do. Making it happen quickly so they don't "have to see us suffer" won't stop the pain of loss. I think, sometimes, the best we can hope for is for our loved ones to love us through our pain.