Faith, Family, Friends

These past few days have been tough. As I try to get back to some type of normalcy,  I'll find myself randomly crying. This morning was no different. And during my breakdown this morning, I thought to myself, "why am I crying?"  I mean, I do know why I'm not crying. I'm not crying for myself. As I've said before,  I feel so completely blessed that God put Brianna in my life. I actually remember the day she was born. I remember everyone gathering around her and giving all of their attention to this sweet and tiny new addition to our family and her oh so cute big brother was getting none. I remember holding her older brother, Brice, who was barely a toddler and saying to him, "don't worry Brice, I'll make sure you always get lots of attention from me." And as she grew older, she sucked me right in, too. Sorry Brice. :)  They were both so special (and still are) to me. They were my  baby cousins and I have loved watching them grow up. They were the first to show me that life truly flashes before your eyes. When they got their drivers licenses, I couldn't believe they were already that old. When they graduated high school, I couldn't believe they were already that old. Days before Brianna's graduation party, I went through some old pictures and came across one of me holding her when she was around the age of 3. We were in Disney World. In my mind, that's the age she should still be. She's not supposed to be 1/2 an inch taller than me and getting ready to head off to college. She's supposed to be this tiny little girl that I can still carry on my hip. 

At Brianna's graduation party, TJ (my fiance) saw her softball pictures and said to me, "why have you been hiding this stud softball player from me and my coed softball team?!" Before we left the party, he already recruited her on his team. The first game she played with his team, the mother in me felt like I needed to be there to make her feel comfortable as she probably wouldn't know anyone on this team because everyone was so much older. We met her in the parking lot, walked to the field together, she began warming up and instantly fit right in. She didn't need me. Her first at bat, she cranked the ball into the outfield. All of her teammates looked at TJ and said, "where have you been hiding her?!" I was so proud, so so proud of her. But that was nothing new, I've always been so proud of her (and her brother) and the young adults they have become. "Proud" is really an understatement actually.  She represented the Taylor name so well, and probably even raised the bar.  I feel so honored that God decided to put them both in my family. So I'm not crying for myself. It would be selfish and ungrateful of me to be sad that I don't get any more time with her and get to make any more memories with her. The time I've had with her is more time than many people got to spend with her and more time than many people get to spend with anyone as loving, kind, and full of life.

When I cry, I cry for the selfishness of others. Brianna's life was taken because of a selfish decision made by someone else. I know we all make mistakes. But when those mistakes are made repeatedly and affect the lives of others, I'm not okay with that. 

When I cry, I cry because I know one day, I'll have to let Talon go off on his own into this crazy world and can't be there to protect him every step of the way. With Talon getting older and his dad and I not being together, I get a taste of what this feels like. Just this past weekend Talon went camping and boating with his dad and even though I know his dad is a great dad and would never put his son in harm's way, I couldn't help but worry. What if he goes too deep in the water? What if he falls off the boat and his life jacket isn't on tight enough? What if something goes wrong? And I know this is only going to get worse as he gets older. It's an unsettling feeling know that no matter what we do or say, we can't protect our children from everything. 

I cry because even I take life for granted. Me, the girl whose living with cancer, takes life for granted. When I was diagnosed with cancer, knowing that tomorrow isn't promised became a little more real to me. But my tomorrow's continue and that fear began to fade. It wasn't until the loss of my baby cousin that it finally sank in. We all see in the news every single day about a person dying in a car wreck. We all think 'how tragic' then move on with our lives.  We know that person could one day be someone we know and love but never do we really believe it, until it is.

 

But most importantly, I cry for my aunt, uncle, and cousin.  I have a handful of very close, best friends. But my relationship with them doesn't compare to my relationship with my sisters. They are my comfort and stability. Brice's relationship with Brianna was no different. And as a parent, too often I think about what it would be like to lose a child. When I hear a story of a parent losing a child, I couldn't ever figure out how they make it through and continue on with life. The strength it must take, I don't think I could possess. My life didn't begin until I had Talon and I feel most certain it would end without him. How do parents do it? Things will never be the same, they will never be normal, and there will always be a piece of them missing.

But through all of this, I have been able to find some peace and comfort. 

I find comfort in knowing that Brianna is in Heaven. When some people pass, you feel kind iffy about that. Not with Brianna. She confessed her life to our Lord and Savior years back and has led a life of selflessness and love to all. God doesn't make them much better than Brianna. 

And believe it or not, I have also found peace through Brianna's parents, my aunt and uncle. In the midst of their pain, the strength they have displayed these past couple of days have been unreal. Yesterday after the funeral, Brianna's dad gathered all of the family around for a little speech. He started off by thanking God for blessing him. This guy, the guy whose daughter was taken from him at such a young age by a selfless act of another still praises God for how blessed he is? What strength. He continued on to talk about marrying his wife, having his first born, then his second, how God blessed him more than he could ever imagine. He is so thankful for all of them and for all of the time, love, and memories he has had with them. While it could be so easy for he and my aunt (or anyone) to be mad at God, they aren't. What strength. He continued on to say that the reason why they have been able to make it through these past couple of days is because of his friends and family and all of the support they have shown. What has offered some peace is seeing the impact his daughter has had by the thousands of people who have shared their love and stories of Brianna with them. Because of that, I want to say thank you to everyone who stopped by the church, attended the funeral, or sent a text/email/FB message. I'm going to print everything that was sent to me to give to them so they can always be reminded of how many loved and were impacted by Brianna. 

What has probably offered the most comfort to us all is knowing that Brianna's life wasn't lost in vain. At the end of the wonderful sermon during Brianna's funeral, Brother Scott invited anyone who wanted to begin the conversation about beginning a relationship with Jesus Christ and being saved, like Brianna was, to come up and they would begin that conversation. Several people did. So through the loss of Brianna's life, another life will be saved. How amazing.

So how does a parent make it through the loss of their child? Through faith, family, and friends-- all of which Brianna's parents most definitely have.

I know the days, weeks, and years to come are going to be so so hard for my aunt, uncle, and cousin. Because of that, I ask that you please continue to pray for strength, peace and comfort for them. I also ask that you continue to pray for the full recovery of Brianna's friend, Mickayla, who was in the car with her at the time of the wreck.

Footprints On Our Hearts

What I'll always admire about my sweet baby cousin- 

1. She was a role model. She has several younger cousins on both sides of her family (to include my son, nieces, and nephews) that admired and looked up to her. No matter how old she got and how busy she was, she always made time for them. She was a princess in my niece's eyes. My son and nephew always talked about how she could "crank the ball" in softball and in Talon's words, was a "beast" on the field. It wasn't until they watched her play ball that they realized girls could hang with the boys too. :)

2. She was your all around girl. Athletic, smart, selfless, giving, loving, beautiful, and friends with everyone. 

3. She never met a stranger. You could put her in a crowd with a 100 people that she didn't know and within five minutes, she would have 100 new friends.She embraced new experiences with arms wide open. 

4. Her family came first. Like all of us Taylor's, her family was her #1 priority. Her brother, mother, and father were truly her best friends. She always made sure we all knew she loved us, as they were words always spoken by her. 

5. She always had a smile on her face, and it was contagious. She would light up a room when she walked in. You couldn't be in a bad mood when she was around. 


She left more footprints on our hearts in her short 17 years of life than many of us will strive to leave in 77 years of life. I'm a better person having known Brianna. While we didn't get enough time with her, I thank God for the time we did get with her and for putting her into our lives. 

A piece of our hearts will always be broken, but I have no doubt she's in Heaven, and because of that, I look forward to the day I get to see her again, a day when our hearts will be whole again.

 

 

Cancer Pass

The world doesn't revolve around me having leukemia. That's something I was reminded of today.

Me having leukemia doesn't interfere with my life. Me having to deal with side effects from the medication I have to take because I have leukemia interferes with my life. And most days, I'm dealing with it. Some days its a lingering headache. Other days it's a constant thirst because of dehydration. Other times it's eating food and having a mild reaction because my medication doesn't like it for whatever reason. Most days it's extreme exhaustion.  A lot of evenings it's nausea that at times leads me to hugging the porcelain throne. But I've learned how to deal with it. I've learned how to manage it. I've learned how to make it through my day. But there are some days when I experience all of those side effects at once, and  it's those days that I wish I had a cancer pass. You know, like a hall pass, but instead of being excused from the classroom for the moment, I could be excused from the day. 

This morning was one of those days.  I woke up around 6am with a horrible headache and so completely nauseous, the kind of nausea where if I make one slight move, I'll be visiting my friend Ralph, if ya know what I mean.  And the only thing I can do is just lay there ever so still and just try to sleep through it. 

That's what I tried to do this morning. Sleep through it and wait for the worst to pass. Seems simple, no? Ah but it's not. While I try sleeping, Talon is late for school. While I try sleeping,  no one at work can cover a meeting for me. My phone keeps ringing, my inbox keeps filling up with emails that need responses. Because I have people depending on me, regardless of how I feel. So I rush to take a shower, and inevitably end up hugging the porcelain throne. I compose myself as best I can, get myself and Talon ready and hurry him along to school, all while trying to hold back tears of frustration. I hate the days when I feel horrible, and I hate when it interferes with my day, with my life, with my obligations. But in my frustration, I selfishly think to myself, "doesn't the mere fact that I have leukemia allow me to have a few free passes?" Just a few. A few days throughout the year where when I feel this miserable, I can skip the day. I don't have to worry about work, or being a taxi, or doing my domestic responsibilities. Where I don't have to worry about anything except laying in bed until I feel good , good enough to function again.  Most days I can push through, but there is an occasional day where I just can't, or matter of factly, don't want to. I just want to sleep through it and dream about the days I didn't have to take 9-10 pills a day in order to function, in order to live. 

Not only are these days physically tough, but they are also emotionally tough. I blubbered like a big baby most of the morning just out of frustration. I held it together when I walked into Talon's school to sign him in and drop off a note as to why he was late.  When I was leaving to go back to my car, I noticed a boy sitting outside the lunchroom, crying. (I assume he was in trouble). And I really wanted to walk up to him and give him a big hug and say " I'm having a bad day too." 

And when I make it to my work meeting and begin talking about the great work we do at United Way, my mind eases away from the emotional drainage that had taken place earlier in the day. And once I down my Gatorade, I start to feel a little better physically. And by the end of the work day, I'm feeling better, just exhausted, mentally and physically. 

But as I drive back home, I feel defeated for letting my illness get the best of me and guilty for being such a big baby about it.  Over the last almost two years, I've done a great job learning how to cope with and manage my sickness. I've used 2.5 sick days since I started this job (6 months ago) and 1.5 of those days were due to a stomach bug, no relation to my leukemia. Luckily, when I feel the worst is generally in the evenings or on the weekends, so it doesn't interfere with my day as much. But it's in those moments where I feel like my illness is controlling me and my life that are the hardest. And it's in those moments that I feel defeated. 

But then I remember, those moments are few and far between. Thank the Lord. It could be worse, things could always be worse. And then I came upon an article, written by someone else living with CML, and it reminded me that I'm not defeated, I'm not a baby, and I'm not alone:

"The truth is, there is nothing easy about chronic diseases. At the best of times, they are a nuisance that we keep in mind, but at worst, they take hold of our personal and professional lives. My own career choices have at times been altered because of it. One of my biggest regrets will always be not being able to follow through on a dream because of it. So I adjust the sails, and try to compensate, and everything works out in some way, whether for the best or not. And we hold on until it retreats into the background once more. We hold on, and we hope for the better day. Because on those days, we are infinite." 

And I know tomorrow will be a better day.