The kids came to visit Art today. He, in his chemoed-out way, was very happy to see them. Each of them seems comfortable with this. It’s the still having hair thing, I swear. "How are the kids?" friends and acquaintances asks. "Ask them!” I want to say. “They will tell you with brutal honest where they are and if they feel like talking about it."
I was worried about the kids, until a wise friend reminded me of two important skills my kids exhibit.
- Acceptance. This is a life they know. It just is. No judgment, momentary sorry only, no anxiety over big life questions. Daddy has cancer, and while they understand that it doesn't happen in everyone's house, it is normal to them.
- Matter of Factness. Daddy survived cancer. He has beaten this so why would he not beat it again. Whether or not it turns out the same way is completely irrelevant to them in this moment.
I used to hate when parents say their children give them strength and courage to blah, blah, blah. Frankly I think it’s much more significant to make changes for yourself, not for anyone else.
My kids don't inspire me to do much other than occasional run from the house pulling out my hair and screaming. (Not true but it makes for a good chuckle.)
But, in their simple, wonderfully, childish living, Langston, Pallas and Ezra introduce me to small little bits of wisdom that pack a wallop of a punch.
The remind me to:
remain in the moment
Crying for 2 minutes and 27 seconds is perfectly acceptable. So is playing and laughing at 2 minutes and 28 seconds.
Now that's WISDOM I can live by!
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