Why I Write

In an article entitled "Why I Write," Anna Quindlen reflects, "Writing can make pain tolerable, confusion clearer, and the self stronger."  I teach this to my students. I believe it. Today I write in an attempt to make confusion clearer.  I don't know if it will work, I don't know if I should be doing it here, so publicly; I am a fairly private person. (I'm really open with people I am close to, so I am sure you are perplexed by that comment.) Irregardless, today I write.  I will not proofread. I will not contemplate each word or the syntax of each sentence. I will just write. Testing out your own lectures is probably a good thing. ??? My emotions are mixed, although I feel that they shouldn't be.  There was a glimmer of hope last Thursday with Timmie's blood work.  ANCs : 100.  (ANC = absolute neutrophil count).  ANCs have been 0 for over two months. I, along with doctors and nurses, watched that number anxiously, each and every day for over 4 weeks at Primary Children's. Then, Thursday, ANCs 100. She needs 1500, but 100 is something, right?  I call it a glimmer of hope, but if you combine it with some intimate feelings that I have had the past week or so regarding our hope and prayers for her therapy to work, along with some interesting and more than coincidental timing, I should probably be calling it a big, fat ray of hope. I felt more peace and happiness on Thursday than I have... well... ever. You can imagine our prayers of gratitude and our feelings of relief. So how is that those overwhelming feelings of hope and peace can't just last. I feel like they should be able to last. Always. Why is it that everything has to be such a rollercoaster?  Why is it that peace and solace have to be so rudely interrupted by fear, doubt, pain, and confusion?  I am sure there are answers to these questions.  Despite moments of reassurance and encouragement, my heart still swells with sorrow after a few days of watching her suffer. One ailment will resolve, and another will appear.  One pain will subside, and another take its place.  One worry leaves our anxious hearts, and another enters in a blink of an eye. I usually take time to ponder... look for answers.  But today... I just write. Sometimes because of her maturity and her courage, we forget that she is a 16 year old girl. She wants to walk, run, laugh, spend time with her friends.  She wants to grab her keys, hop in her car and head somewhere... anywhere. There is a pang of anguish in her heart when she stops, ever so briefly, and thinks about what she may be missing.  How long will it last?  "I don't want to miss my junior year," she said to me tearfully the other night. She told me last night that she doesn't want to be the girl that people feel like they should "visit."  She misses being normal. She misses people simply wanting to hang out with her because she is fun and they want to be with her.  I would have never guessed something as simple as the word "visit" could make her feel... sad. Every so often I am reminded that she is simply a 16 year old girl wanting to feel... normal. Normal. What does that mean anymore?  There are so many people who deal with so many different struggles, trials.  Some that seem intolerable to be borne. How many people look out at the world around them and wish that something about their lives could be more... "normal."  I am starting to think that normal doesn't exist.  That we all have our own kind of normal.  We are forced to create it for ourselves.  Should it be  normal that my 6 year old seems the most happy when he can help prepare and deliver medicines to his 16 year old sister? Should he be exposed to the type of suffering he has seen at such a young age?  Please don't mistake my heartache for a belief that I am the only one who has suffered or who ever will. It is the exact opposite.  This experience with sorrow and suffering has opened my eyes to the immeasurable amount of suffering on this earth.  It is everywhere.  As deep as my sorrow runs, there are people every minute of every day dealing with more...so much more.  What part does suffering and sorrow play in this life? Why is it so important? Is it essential? Yes, there are answers.  But the questions seem to be releasing some sort of pent up emotion that I can't really describe.  OH! And how is it that people can be so overwhelmingly selfless and kind? I am daily astonished by the willingness of apparently everyone to help me. To help my family. That is the most humbling thing I have ever experienced. It constantly reminds me that I need to be better, do more. Why in a world filled with such goodness, does ugliness and evil still exist?  How can some people love so much and others be consumed with hate? I had almost forgotten that hate existed because we have been enveloped in love from every angle.  But then, when you least expect it, hate rears its ugly head. How could someone, anyone, look at my suffering daughter and see nothing more than a skin color that is different from their own. I, briefly, had forgotten that something that ugly could exist. What do I resolve?  Perhaps that most of humanity is good, truly good. That most of us do the best we can each and every day to make sense of a complicated world.  That we each have moments of strength and weakness.  That as much as we want to hit that plateau of strength, happiness, peace, humility, righteousness (and just stay there!  shouldn't we be able to stay there once we have discovered it?)  we ultimately slip, stumble and sometimes even fall hard into moments weakness, sadness, even desperation.  I guess that life will never get boring.  There will always be something new to tackle, something different to overcome, something else to learn. In the end, I hope for more good days than bad, more strong moments than weak, more surety than doubt, and more kindness than anger. I hope I can become like those who have given so generously to me. I hope that for me selflessness can become second nature.  I hope that more people can let go of anger and hate and grab hold of peace and love.  As cliche as it sounds, I hope the world can become a better place and I can have a small part in that transformation.