Strength.

Everybody keeps mentioning my “strength”. I have mixed feelings about that because, what else was/am I to do? I mean, I did what I had to do to get through it. I’m still doing it although in a different way. I know that nobody wants to think about how it could happen to them. Well, I thought that too. And it happened to me. But not just to me but to everyone else too. This thing, this cancer, was bigger than me and bigger than Stephen and all of us. It’s a bully that nobody and nothing could keep in check. So, what do you do?

Look, if it were your husband or your child, would you run from it? Of course not. You would stand and fight with them. I just did what every one of us would have done. That’s not strength. That’s committment. That’s a vow. That’s the “for better or worse” thing. Because I don’t feel strong and I never did. I’ve never been good with bullies (or sales people or anyone with a convincing arguement actually). I don’t like being a single parent. I don’t like being held accountable to my IL’s who technically aren’t my ILs anymore because I’m not married anymore according to the federal government. I don’t like that Ella can’t even see an ambulance without panicing and crying. I don’t like that she draws pictures of sad faces all the time and then cuts them up.

But this is what we do. We do what we have to do.

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