So here it is. 7:30 p.m. Sam and Gabe in bed. No eruptions so far. And I am…actually, I don’t know what I am.
Katie comes home tomorrow.
I have another 20 hours to make the grade.
Gabriel has been an incredible boy while Mommy has been in England.
Samuel has also been incredible – in a satanic fashion. I’ve taken to calling him Beelzebub.
Overall though, since last Thursday we’ve had great fun.
Tonight kind of caught up to me though.
I had just trod on a stray piece of LEGO – it was a chicken. I had stifled an expletive. That doesn’t come easily with me. I had descended to the floor and was gathering the detritus of the day and sorting it into the LEGO bucket and the HOT WHEELS bucket.
Ooops. There’s a police car under the ottoman.
Oh my. A pick up truck and a LEGO Sir Topham Hatt appear under the sofa.
The red leather club chairs prove to be an ideal sanctuary for Bertie and Lightning McQueen. Mater lurks by the kitchen table just daring me to come in pursuit.
So, my 59-year old corpus rests nearly recumbent on the floor and I think – WTF?
How in the name of the sweet baby Jesus did I end up here?
I don’t even have a Martini nearby to assist with my reflection.
Actually, if you’ll excuse me for just a moment – I’ll be right back.
You still there?
O.K. Where was I?
These few days have truly been great fun and if the shadow of the cursed cancer didn’t hover over our home I would not be pausing to reflect at all. I’d be chalking up my Brownie points and planning some golf outings and several end-to-end philosopher’s club sessions with Homer at the Goose.
But all that strikes me is this – what if this had all turned out differently? What if Katie didn’t fight this as effectively as she has? What if that miserable bastard comes back?
Can I even envision myself as a single dad?
Maybe if I were a few decades younger.
Maybe if I were more fit.
Here’s what the caregivers and shotgun riders and co-pilots need to know – the unimaginable lurks in the dark alleys of the mind at all times. We need to work mightily and positively to shed bright lights in all the blackened corners of the brain.
For me, those lights are two little boys.
Yes, I am completely knackered.
Yes, they just piss me off mightily from time to time.
But when I saw my 100-year-old Mom today light up when Gabe and Sam walked (OK, stormed the beaches) into her apartment today I thought I am well and truly blessed.
And, we’re going to never rid the presence of the horrid cancer from our lives but we can give it a sound thrashing and encourage it to truly piss off back from whence it came.
So, actually I do know what I am.
I am a very tired but extraordinarily lucky man with two wonderful boys looking forward to welcoming our beautiful wife and Mommy home tomorrow.
Sleep well lads.
Tomorrow we climb Pearson!