The Waiting Game

I was grateful their conference was one of our first today, as having to wait all day leading up to it might have been more than I could have handled. As it was, I was genuinely happy to see them both walk through the door. Clearly, though, the decline was happening rapidly and was evidenced on his face. Only a month or so ago (was it longer than that?), he was a tall, broad figure getting out of the family SUV at carpool, eager to surprise his children as he for once was going to be the one picking them up from school rather than their mom. Looking at him now, his face was gaunt, ashen, and there were telltale signs of shell-shock registering on him and his wife. Understandably, they'd only had a little over a week to digest the news: stage 4 colon cancer. After talking for a few minutes about the most recent updates they had shared with the three children to this point, we began Nayana's conference like we would any other. Right after we started, Sapna reached over and took Deepak's hand in hers, and they sat there listening to us talk and share, holding hands, for the rest of the 20-minute allotted time. I couldn't help thinking, this will make them feel good, give them a momentary reprieve from the sadness they're experiencing, hearing how their daughter is thriving in her second year in preschool. Simultaneously, I  thought, this must be gut-wrenching, knowing your youngest daughter is going to continue to excel in school...and in life... and you won't be there to see it. I wouldn't let myself take that in just then. I had decided I was just going to focus on one day at a time right now. With Matthew, I had thought the moment was imminent last summer, but he soldiered on another six months, and I realized it was time he should have been allowed to experience as a living person, not a soon-to-be-dead one. Deepak is not gone yet, he may be here for many months, or even year or two. But really, I don't think so. I think this will all play out before the end of the school year. We have not been through the worst, that is still to come. Helping Nayana cope, providing routine, watching out for any signs of waves of emotions...these days of support, holding her world at school tougher for her, this we can do. We can be stoic and offer structure and routine and everything she needs. Until the day it is over, and then I know I will fall to pieces.