We are packed. The laundry is done. The house is clean. Garbage is out. Bills are paid. The schedule is written out. Aunts and grandmas given their assignments. Presents are wrapped as bribes for the boys to open after they finish their homework and piano each day we am gone. They are caught up on their homework. They are bathed. Nails trimmed. All the things you have to do before you leave on vacation.
We will tell our kids goodbye in the morning and head out.
I think about how easy it is, really for us to do this. Mostly, I think, because I have sisters. I don't worry a bit about the kids when we are gone. I don't worry about the dog. I have a neighbor who loves her and walks her while we are gone. I don't worry about Josh's job. He has been able to work from the hospital, and work extra the weeks we are home.
I don't know what I'm worried about. Oh yeah, the cancer. That shadow that has been following me around for a year now, darkened in the last couple months, seems so cold and close right now. I don't know why Josh struggles like I do with some pretty sever panic moments as we approach the hospital weeks. But these are some of hardest hours. No more denial or distractions, it's 5-6 solid days of beat thing down. Take as much medicine until your body can't function and your organs are on the verge of shutdown. This is the storm we are headed into.
The hardest part is driving away from these boys.
We got the boys some super cheap phones so they could get a hold of us whenever they needed to as we are gone so much. I had to share some of the texts from Sam we got late at night last time in the hospital. He has a hard time falling asleep, even when we are home.
Of course everything Sam writes melts my heart because we share the same spelling gene. Favorite sentences here include: Im
getting scerd (scared). I am not yousto ants (used to aunts). And I am
reely reely scerd come home pleas with Mom. Sweet babies. Josh says they are going to be tough kids after this. I am for sure going to be a soft mom.