Back in the day when it was uncool to kiss your mom in public, my kids had two options. They could either voluntarily give me a quick kiss on the cheek OR they had to endure a big attention-seeking kiss from me that often lingered way too long. I thought about that when Max headed back to school a couple of weeks ago. I laid motionless as he hugged and kissed me good-bye. Oh how I longed to wrap my arms around him, give him a big kiss and linger…for a really long time. I sure miss those simpler days.

I experienced a new first recently. I said “F&ck you!” to Rolf in anger…first time in 27 years…and, no, I wasn’t angry at my disease, I was straight up angry at Rolf. Fortunately the visceral impact was diminished quite a bit by the fact that I had to repeat myself five times and ultimately spell it out to be understood.

Speaking of visceral experiences, I also recently thought a little too long about taking my life. I can honestly say I have never felt that level of desperation in my lifetime. The urge passed and, of course, I can’t physically do it anyway but it is a fleeting thought made more complicated by the fact that physician-assisted suicide is legal in California. I know that a lot of people worked hard to get that law passed in 2016 and it brings comfort to some but selfishly I wish it wasn’t even an option because it feels like a strange carrot being dangled in front of my suffering body. That’s not how I want my story to end.

I spent a large portion of my adult life working hard to preserve life and I always lived with the mantra, “Where there is breath there is purpose.” In a perfect world I don’t think our bodies would outlive our minds or our minds would outlive our bodies. I envision we’d all just go to sleep and not wake up when our time came. But the world isn’t perfect and my convictions are being tested beyond what I ever dreamed. I’m learning over and over that life is one big exercise in discovering purpose and beauty in all the imperfection. I want to live my life out naturally and experience the purpose of my final moments in word but the living it out is hard and frightening. It’s a classic “easier said than done”. 🙂 Please pray for courage and joy and laughter and all things light and hopeful. I said to Rolf and a friend the other day that we won’t get through this unscathed or without a few war wounds along the way but it doesn’t have to define how this story ends. I will continue to count on there being purpose in every breath…especially when I consider who the Giver of my next breath is.