What a strange feeling, staring at the flashing cursor, a blank white page, waiting for me to add words. This is supposed to be some sort of therapy apparently. As a tough weekend draws to a close, I think now is a good time to test the supposed therapeutic powers of writing. I’m sure it does have a ‘weight-off-my-shoulders’ effect, however when that weight it so heavy and suffocating, I know that once I have inserted the final full stop at the end of this piece, I will probably have a moment of relief but like all moments, they last for just that, a moment. However I figure that if I can share some of these moments, however brief they may last, then the purpose may be twofold. It will hopefully help get the words from the confused and nonsensical state in my head, to some form of sense on the page and relieve my heart of a little bit of burden. It also may echo readers thoughts, there maybe points of similarly or perhaps the opposite, it may provide a different outlook on things. But for whatever purpose this serves, if any, it will help formulate and track this phase of our journey.
Days are bittersweet. Behind the scenes we have been working like mad to get the Dream Chaser website up and running and finally after many tempting thoughts to allocate it to the “too-hard” pile, it’s live. Ryan and I were filled with a sense of pride as we now knew, that eyes, other than ours would be looking at it. It’s now tangible (as much as any virtual thing can be) and has catapulted our scribbled notes and thoughts from just ideas to reality. However, it was also very daunting, it was real now, which only emphasizes the reasoning behind why this website even exists. Many times I have thought, there’s no way I could possibly be up for running a child cancer charity. Especially when the thought of retreating back to a dark cave would be so much easier. But it has an addictive power. I’m sure many ‘hospital mums’ would agree, this, as in cancer, becomes our normal. What we once thought was normal, is now tainted with various degrees of abnormalness to it. Immersed in a medical world and stripped of routine, merging back into society has its challenges. Therefore we take comfort in other mums (and their families) experiences, happiness, achievements, and also their heartache, angst and despair. My point being, I still receive much strength from my hospital mums, they know the feeling, they don’t have to say “oh I can’t imagine what you’re going through” because they can. So if I have to carry on in life, function and contribute, then I choose to do this – run a child cancer charity. Yes the territory comes with many tears and much heartache but it also comes with great hope, and if nothing else, hope is the fuel that this charity runs on. Hope for a brighter future, as cliche as that sounds, its true! Hope is always the driving force, it’s what keeps parents going, it’s what makes the enormity of situations somehow manageable and hope is what makes it all worthwhile.
Anyway, what are my other options? Return to our old life? A life that seemed so secure, so taken for granted and mapped out. We were greatly mistaken in thinking we had control over any of it. It now seems like a lifetime ago. While I mourn deeply for the life we ‘should’ have had, nothing I can do will change the fact that we have ended up here. So shall I embrace that change? Maybe I’ll draw upon some more well-known phrases, phrases that infuriate me and comfort me equally. “Everything happens for a reason”, “its fate/destiny/pre-planned (insert any fluffy word here). These sayings are incredibly powerful – but are very context and time specific. When things are good, theses sayings are reassuring, comforting and make perfect sense. But when things take an unexpected turn for the worse, they transform from inspiring to cruel in an instant. Is it our fate that we have ended up here? Seems a little too romantic to me, but without the thought that there maybe some purpose behind all this, as hurtful as it seems at the moment, all thoughts return to the unfairness of it all, the “why us?” complex – and that is surely unproductive.
So for now, I will embrace what I can control and that is what I choose to put my energies into and the Dream Chaser is what I choose. Ill smile when it makes me smile and cry when it makes me cry.