I've been reflective again about this experience, about what our family, our friends and all those that have been touched by Abby have learned and grasped. I've said it before but I'll say it again, If I could go back and change this whole thing, you know push a little button that just erases it all, stops the cancer and I never had to watch my daughter go through all of this... I don't think I would.
I don't know if I'll ever be sure about that thought but I'm pretty certain that I wouldn't press the stop button. There is too much good that has come from it, too much that I and those around me would be missing from who we are.
- All those smiles that she gave to the hospital workers, and to the people at the clinics.
- All the people like you that have read and maybe related to the trials of this little girl.
- All the memories of the good times contrasted with the painful memories of the bad.
- The understanding that life is way better at the top when you understand the bottom and that living in the middle gray area is not a good option.
- Grasping the concept that I really don't have control and that in that there is tremendous freedom.
- Seeing what true community is.
- Being only able to receive and unable to give back to all of you who have blessed this experience... and being ok with that.
- Seeing what Abby's head looks like when she's bald and being able to laugh at a lot of things that really should make me cry.
- Experiencing the mercy, tenderness, compassion, and kindness of God in a way that I never knew was available.
- That picture of her in the Fort Collins paper where she is looking like she is going to beat the crap out of any cancer cell that comes near her.
- Being able to experience so many little and big celebrations through the eyes of a little girl that really knows how to appreciate celebration.
- The ability to look back through the pictures from those years and instantly be drenched by the emotions that they evoke.
- To really know, I mean really know, how precious it is to have any of my girls sit in my lap and smile up at me, even if only for a moment.
I wouldn't trade it. It has all meant too much.
So, with all of that in my mind, the port has significant meaning. I look at her in her little low cut PJ's and I see that little bulge and trailing tube under her skin and I long for her to be fully herself again. Fully Abigail. No extra parts in her, especially ones that have been used to inject Chemo into her veins. Freedom from the medical devices. And on Friday that will be a reality. I wonder if we can keep it and bronze it? Maybe that would be too weird.
I guess I should ask Abby... she usually has good advice on those types of things... and of course, it really does belong to her. With all the needle sticks into that thing, she's earned it.