As much as I would LOVE to write an incredibly detailed post about our weekend of non-stop stomach-flu illness (and as much as I'm sure y'all would LOVE to read about it), the fact is I previously committed today's posting spot to the American Cancer Society. They asked me to participate, once again, in their More Birthdays campaign, and contribute a monthly-ish post to help raise awareness of their research and programs and website.
Today's post, according to my official editorial calendar (translation: an email from a few weeks ago that I have miraculously NOT LOST) is supposed to be an introductory sort of thing -- explaining why I chose to participate in the campaign in the first place.
Which, to put it eloquently, would be something along the lines of: Well, DU-U-UH.
Last night, Jason's phone rang at exactly 2:32 a.m. I was deep in the middle of a stress dream involving being late for high school (after being awkwardly felt up and then promptly dumped by Michael Cera, that JERK) when I heard it ringing. It stopped soon after I fully woke up, but of course I lay there staring at the ceiling for awhile, panicking.
Was that The Call?
My dad had another blood transfusion on Friday, meaning there was probably just enough time for his numbers to crater again. Or just enough time for another infection to set in. Was my phone on silent? Buried in the couch cushions? Had my mom -- or someone else -- called Jason after failing to get in touch with me? Would our home phone start ringing at any second, the clear sign that there was News, Bad News?
I waited. I realized my phone was on my nightstand -- on silent, yes, but the screen thankfully did NOT register a slew of missed calls from my mother's cell phone. Our home phone never rang.
It turned out it was just a wrong number, stupidly dialed in the middle of the stupid night. Jason never even heard it.
When the leukemia diagnosis came in September, we didn't know how much time he had left. We still don't. When I was asked for four months of topic ideas for the American Cancer Society series -- I'll be writing once a month until March -- I couldn't give them that. I just...don't know what's going to happen, or when.
He was here when I found out I was pregnant.
He was here for Noah's fifth birthday, and Ezra's second.
He was here for his 35th wedding anniversary in October.
He was here for his 81st birthday last month, and for my mom's birthday last week. (She would probably kill me if I told you her age, but I think my dad would be okay if I divulge the secret that he married a much younger woman.)
I am pretty sure he'll be here for Christmas, and my birthday on the 27th.
After that, it's baby steps until they get to spend another Valentine's Day together, another grandson's birthday. Easter, spring.
And then, my due date.
It could happen. I want it to happen.
So. That's why I chose to participate in the "More Birthdays" initiative by the Amercian Cancer Society.