New Goal: Journaling

I have been inspired by a friend of mine from work, Kim. You see, Kim's husband has three cancerous tumors in his brain, and the best hope the doctors could offer, with intense treatment, is three to five years. She has started a website at Colespages.com to keep family and friends abreast of her husband's condition. I checked out Cole's story, a day-to-day log of a three-year-old's life, and death, written by his parents. One of his parents wrote something every day, even if it was just a line or two. Cole died unexpectedly just eight weeks after his cancer diagnosis. The journal, his parents have written since, helps keep their memories vibrant and puts dates to his "I love you to the moon and back"s. I said to another coworker, also a friend of Kim's, that I didn't know how she functioned every day with that shadow looming over her life. Our friend said, "Why not? You live with that shadow every day, every time you get behind the wheel, or even breathe. We're all going to die."

Intellectually, I know this, but hearing it caused a visceral reaction. I guess I want a written record of days, too - just in case, just because. So, my goal is to write something every day, even if it's short and sweet.

Like today, Marty cracked me up when he said, "Mommy, I accidentally had an accident, accidentally." Or yesterday when Ellie popped a balloon unexpectedly. She looked at that popped balloon and her lip pooched out and she was just so dang cute I wanted to laugh (but I didn't, I comforted her like a good mommy). It reminded me of when she was wee-bitty and pouted like that, with her little lip out far enough for a bird to perch. Grammy would tell her she'd have to be a lot less cute if she ever wanted to get anything (meaning we'd deny her just to see the cuteness). Lord she was cute last night. I probably shouldn't find my child's broken hearted pout cute, but I do! You would, too, if you saw it.

So, that's that. That's my goal. We'll see if I can meet it.