When I gaze at my partner, I perceive two distinct realities: one where he thrives alongside us and another where he is absent. In the first scenario, I feel serene and fulfilled; in the second, I am adrift and transformed.
Watching him tenderly tuck our children into bed every night triggers a chilling reminder of how close we came to not having them at all. This thought halts me in my tracks; it constricts my breathing. How could I navigate this world without them?
Fourteen years ago, shortly after we exchanged vows, my husband was diagnosed with a rare and typically fatal cancer. Our dreams of a shared future, of nurturing a family, and of growing old together seemed as unlikely as his chances of survival.
Now, as I observe him in his makeshift gym—a converted garage—performing pull-ups and lifting weights in his quest for optimal health, I’m often overwhelmed by the sheer randomness of our fortune. With less than a 10 percent chance of surviving five years after his diagnosis, we are acutely aware that many others diagnosed with adrenal carcinoma in 2001 didn’t share our outcome. Few, if any, are out there jogging at dawn or kissing their children—who may never have existed—goodnight.
I found myself deeply moved by a recent post from a public figure, Maria Thompson, whose husband tragically passed away while exercising during a family vacation. Reading her heartfelt message, I felt both sorrow for her family and a sense of solidarity.
Maria shared, “When tragedy strikes, it presents a choice: succumb to the emptiness or seek meaning. I’ve spent many moments engulfed in that void, yet I want to choose life and purpose whenever possible.”
During my husband’s toughest battles with illness, I too felt consumed by that void. When doctors likened his treatment to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic, I felt as though I were drowning alongside him. The prospect of his untimely death—unimaginable and unbearable—left me contemplating how I would carry on. Would I exist in a state of despair? Would I allow loss to taint every moment of my life?
Fortunately, fate favored us. My husband defied the odds, a mystery we are thankful for every day. I cherish him and our children—who may never have been born—with a fierce passion, showering them with affection that sometimes prompts eye rolls and playful protests. “Enough, Mom!” they exclaim, but deep down, I believe they treasure it. What they can’t understand is that it will never be enough for me or their dad. Our embraces are infinite, for we recognize the miracles that they truly are.
In quiet moments on our porch swing, my husband and I share a silence that speaks volumes. We don’t need to vocalize the narrow escape we experienced; our gratitude is palpable, and we express it regularly.
We consciously choose life and meaning, fully aware that this choice is far simpler after dodging a devastating fate. We are committed to embracing our life together, a commitment that will endure long after his cancer becomes a mere chapter in our story.
If you cherish your partner, your children, your very existence, lean into it wholeheartedly and vocalize your love. Seek out those who inspire you and don’t hesitate to express your feelings—do it now.
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Summary
This narrative reflects on a transformative experience that reshaped the author’s views on life and love after her husband’s cancer diagnosis. It highlights the importance of cherishing moments with loved ones, embracing life, and expressing affection while acknowledging the fragility of existence.