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Happiness is a place between too little and too much. —Finnish proverb
Cancer accepted no substitutes. That was why we all shuddered when the word was uttered. Cancer was synonymous with loss of control for everyone involved.
When you were a child and you were taught to avoid fighting at all costs, you never got to see the rewards of having the hard conversation. If this continued as you aged, you got the message that the spoils must be so terrible, so ungodly horrible, that nothing was worth an argument. When you were an adult, you could reason yourself out of that, see evidence everywhere that wasn’t true, but your child hid and whispered, But what if the result is worse than the fight?
and I was, I don’t know, like their pet. I went along, did a lot of the driving. Made sure everyone got home at the end of the night.”
For my part, I realized that putting your thoughts and emotions into simple sentences was easier than building a life where those sentences would never have to be uttered.
“Safety and the idea that you can keep anyone safe is an illusion. But, loving someone is the ultimate safekeeping.”
This was the comfort of love. It didn’t cure cancer or reduce the pain of childbirth, but it cloaked lovers, friends, and family in an embrace that stretched far and wide and was supremely difficult to break, despite our best idiotic efforts.
That was what true survival was, keeping the heart beating while continuing to feel everything.