There come times in a journey when a person must realize that they are still on it. The reality forms itself in moments that are the weakest.
Sephine loves to have her back rubbed before she goes to bed. By "rubbed" I mean my fingertips grazing over her skin, ever so lightly. This she finds soothing. Last night as I was doing this I found myself touching every backbone, and every rib of her little, very soft, back. They were so prominently there I couldn't help but keep touching them. So close to her skin.
The tears came, when in this moment, I realize, I remember, my child has cancer. I say it in my head over and over, as if to convince myself that it's real. My child has cancer, my baby has cancer, Sephine has cancer.
It has been six months and still so hard to fully put my arms around it. Then I wonder if we are ever meant to embrace it. Once the news hits, we spend every minute fighting it off. We want her to beat it. We want her to get through it. We want her so desperately to survive it.
How hard it is to face it.
In living it, Sephine has shown us bravery, persistence, beauty, strength and patience. Every day it is with her, with us. Yet it takes certain moments in this reality to face it. Perhaps it is in these moments the realization of the journey is that there is no way around it, we MUST go through it.