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Dear everyone,
I know the last update I wrote was pretty melancholy (got a ton of emails recognizing that). The good news is that mostly every day since then has been better. Maybe it's that slowly there's been a bit more sun here in Chicagoland and more chance to get the boys outdoors. Maybe it's that Travis suddenly regained a tremendous amount of energy and is more outgoing and upbeat, like the "good old days". Whatever the reason, we feel like we see the light at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel looked pretty dark before then. Interesting -- a friend from one of the Internet listserves wrote that parents of children with life threatening illnesses have been shown to exhibit the same symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (what many war veterans experience). Upon reading this, it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. It just made so much sense to me and validated that these strange dark and low feelings are part of getting through this experience. And after that, the feelings started to slowly lift. WHEW.
A few interesting notes from this last week. Spencer (who SHRIEKED during his blood test to try to match Travis' bone marrow some 7 months ago) recently said quietly, "I sure wish I could have given you my bone marrow, Travis." This came completely out of the blue, and nothing more was said by the two of them. Travis just smiled and told him how generous that was to say. Every once in awhile, Spencer will say something about Leukenia (his new pronunciation) and Travis' recovery. It has so affected him. I know this experience will come out in different ways for the rest of his life.
Last Wednesday, the ALL Kids listserve group decided to show support for one of the families whose son, Brian, lost the fight. Together, we planned to release white balloons from our homes, simultaneously, around the world. Somehow, this gesture was so important to me. Joe ran out and got 4 white helium balloons, on which we wrote messages to Brian, Bernardo (who also recently died) and our friend, John. The last balloon was in honor of all our brave kids and their incredible siblings who are fighting cancer. We also included "No More Cancer" as a P.S. to our messages. I explained this activity to the boys as a gesture of hope and love, not about death. It was so beautiful, with all four of us on the deck. Together, we said the Shema (Jewish prayer to God, in Hebrew) and then released our balloons. We watched them for a long time, going up and out into the sky. We know they touched Brian, Bernardo, John and all the others whom we have lost. It was a powerful, somber moment. The boys were touched by the ritual and loved participating with Joe and me.
It's so amazing to know that next month will be 6 months since Travis' bone marrow transplant. His appearance is even starting to resemble our pre-cancer little boy. When I've commented about his hair looking a little lighter and wavier, he says "Goodie!". Travis wants to be his old self again, too. Slowly but surely it seems like this is happening.
Joe and I are hanging in there. Most days seem to be better, though I've had a tremendous amount of travel for work, which tears us all apart. In fact, I leave for 3 days tomorrow morning. Ohh, that's so rough on us. The boys have cried as I've left on the last few trips, begging me not to go. Just like many working parents, except it is a tremendous additional strain, with all that we're still going through. My heart is in knots over this. I think the travel will lessen very soon, after I've caught up with my clients, who have been so wonderfully supportive and patient.
We're looking forward to a family Valentine's day today (with my sister, Lisa, visiting!) and then a date-for-two tonight! Now THAT sounds like "the good old days" to me! Thank you, everyone, for your love and support. Love, Melanie, Joe, Travis and Spencer