The C Word - Me, Myself and I

Me – This is who everyone else sees me as.  They look at me and see a woman of faith, a strong woman, a courageous woman.  They see me as mom or wife or sister or aunt or grandma or friend.  They see me as creative.  They see me as someone who loves everyone (or almost everyone) she meets.  Someone to rise up and meet the challenges of the day.  They see me as someone who loves to organize things – except for organizing things in my own home which George will attest to.

Others are watching me.  I know this.  They wonder how I do it.  They may not consider themselves strong or courageous, yet I know many of them are. 

This is the me that I let others see.  Chin up, smile on, Go get ‘em girl.

Others see what I want them to see.

Myself – This is the me I am.  I am someone with a strong faith.  I do believe that God will take and use all the crappy stuff going on and use it for good.  I do believe that I can handle whatever life sends my way.  I may not like it.  But I’ll handle it.  I don’t consider myself strong or courageous – but those are likely components of faith. 

I am mom and wife and sister and grandma friend.  But these days I feel more like caregiver, trying my best to balance the needs of the ‘patient’ but still trying to maintain some sense of those other things.  Some days I am more successful than other at that. 

I am creative.  My sewing room is my haven when I can get to it.  Since I don’t have an office to go to, this is the next best thing.  I only have one problem  - there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to get all my projects done!  I tend to figure out what I want to do and work on that one project until it’s done and then figure out what to do next.  I put on an audio book or music and go upstairs to just be and do what I want for periods of time. 

I have been told I am WYSIWYG – “wizzywig”.  What you see is what you get.  And that, for the most part is true.  Yet, I do not show my whole self to everyone. 

I – The “I” is hard.  “I” feels selfish and self-serving.  But “I” is reality. 

I am angry that cancer has entered our home and has taken it hostage.  No matter what we do, it is ALWAYS there, lurking in the shadow or stomping it’s ugly self on top of us.  It affects every decision, every plan we make.  It has done this for three and a half years.  No matter what we think or do, “it” is on our minds. 

I hate that it interferes with absolutely everything.  Every plan has to have a back up plan.  A “just in case” plan.  I have to be able to cancel things at a moment’s notice.  I have always been very flexible in regards to making plans – but this disease truly tests that ability. 

I hate that it has robbed us.  It has taken George’s physical stamina to do all the things he loves to do.  He no longer does woodwork.  He no longer does yard maintenance.  He is no longer able to do so many of the household repairs and tasks that he used to do.  He can’t go out and do anything that requires a lot of walking or being on your feet.  He is relegated to his recliner with his iPad in tow for the majority of his days.  

It has robbed us of vacations and holidays.  A year ago, when I planned on leaving work, the hope was that we would be able to just get away for a day or a night here and there and get out on mini-adventures.  That never came to fruition and, as time goes on, our world continues to shrink.  It has taken away the golden years we were supposed to be able to enjoy and have fun.  Our wedding song was “Grow Old Along With Me” … the best is yet to be.  We’ve had 15 years together – but the last three have been anything but the best.  And the grow old along to me, sadly, is not likely to be.  I hate cancer!

I hate that as we make medical/health insurance plans and plans for taking pension or social security, that the one thing on George’s mind is that I will be financially okay when he is no longer here. Rather than think we can make plans to do things together – the plan is for me to be alone… again.  Four years ago we were looking at whether or not George could afford to retire – would the two of us have enough to get us through to the ends of our life.  Now, instead of “for two” it is “for one”.  Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that I should be able to be financially stable (unless something hugely traumatic healthwise happens)… but, just as with my first widowhood, having money in hand does not take away the sting of losing a spouse.  Nothing can replace that. 

I fear what lies ahead for George, for us, for the family.  Having access to knowledge of what shape this cancer can take, we are all to aware of the possibilities of what is coming down the road.  We don’t know when and we don’t know exactly what will happen as every case is different.  But, from what I’ve seen, it’s not an easy road ahead.  What we are dealing with right now in this moment is a cake walk compared to what’s ahead. 

I fear how the kids and grandkids will handle whatever lies ahead.  Will I have the strength and courage to not only comfort George but also the family. 

The “me, myself and I” live in conflict with one another.  The “We” that this trio makes, creates a roller coaster of highs and lows, twists and turns.  “Myself” is the middle man, trying to keep things at an even keel as much as is possible.  As I said, some days are easier than others.  “I”  rears its’ head as it did last night, creating havoc and causing insomnia.  It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.

I cannot and will not let “I” have the last word.  I allow myself a short-lived pity party – and then I go back to being “myself” – for faith is what grounds me.  Faith will define me and serve a much better purpose.