Four days into 2017 and I am finally getting around to posting the first blog post of the new year. Between Christmas break, getting my kids back on somewhat of a schedule, trying to buy a house, and just life in general, I feel I need at least three more hours to my days.

There is a woman I know. A beautiful, strong, brave, courageous woman.  She is a few years younger than I am. She has three beautiful daughters. The youngest daughter is in first grade and the oldest is a third grader. This woman has an equally strong, brave, courageous husband who is a very proud father to these three beautiful girls. These are good people, one of the very few I enjoy being around.

Hospice is coming into the picture. This beautiful strong courageous family have been fighting the fight of their life, and sadly, it looks like this particular battler is over. It’s horrible, and if I allow myself to think about it too long, then I break down. None of this is fair and I just do not understand it. What do you say? What is there even to say?

So I blog…or try to anyway. I try to make sense of it all. I try to understand the ridiculous that I see on pretty much a daily basis, and then I look at the real world around me. It’s pretty messed up. I feel for this family. I have absolutely no understanding of what they are going through, yet I have seen the physical effects of cancer take over a person. I have seen this woman’s heart-break, while simultaneously seeing her have the strength of 1,00o men.

The pictures. The pictures were perfect. There was a photoshoot. A perfect, beautiful photoshoot in a not so perfect situation. A keepsake, for the girls I can imagine. The pictures will be their most treasured possession. As beautiful as the pictures are to look at, it was also heartbreaking. I want to know why this is happening? I want answers. I want the family, along with many others out there, to be wrapped up in never-ending love and support, enough so that the power of it all is enough to tell the cancer to go Fuck Off, and the cancer listens.

Not too long ago on Facebook my dad made a comment on a news story that somehow showed up on my feed. I do not remember the exact details of the story, but my dad’s comment was one that will remain with me  always. He said “When he closes his eyes for last time here, he will open them in the arms of Jesus.”

I have to take comfort in that, but more importantly,my hope is that this family takes comfort in that too.

I will wake up tomorrow, not having enough sleep. Safe to say that one of my three kids will be late to school, and my “To Do” list will barely be touched on, and at the end of the day, I will tell myself “That’s okay, so many people out there have it worse than I do.”

Which ironically, has been this families mantra through their fight of a lifetime.

~Jennifer