Pure Love.

Through trauma, and crisis, you learn to love differently.  It's interesting how fast the shift changes in this part of life.  Or these chapters, because really, we never expect for it to roll out that way.

When Kris met Jen, if I keep things honest here, I really didn't want to get close. I didn't want to tangle my heart, or our hearts  for it to change later.  Or heartbreak. I tend to love those that love my kids.  And so, I kept a tiny guard up.  Always looking over his shoulder.  Quietly observing.  Keeping my guarded distance. 

Yet, finding little slices of things about her that I adored.  

For one, she and him seemed to blend with animals.  With the love for dogs especially, and the love of the great wide ocean. 

He got along well with her parents, and loved to spend every single day with her. 

And so, you know how it goes....you love...them. Her.  The two of them together. 

As everyone, they'd battle life.  Issues. Bickering at the ripe age of 25.  Getting through life learning how to spend, save, live, learn and grow. 

Little by little we'd all hang out and party at the lake, or the beach and laugh along the same lines.  We began to build trust, between us all.  More than trust, we all started to feel love.  And compassion.  We shared common interests, and Bill and I began to see a side of her that was different than the rest.  She would always stand up for herself, and most always take care of him.  Him first. She did. We'd protect her, and guide them both if needed. It was something that came to fruition with time.  

Cracking up at the lake, tossing back wine, and smiling before this chapter.   

During the first days of Kris' diagnosis, she stood tall.  Not just for him, but for me. For us. For Kali and for Bill.  She stared at me that first night in ER and said..."we'll get through it"-  I could hardly breathe.  I couldn't stand up.  And I wanted to vomit. 

Her big blue eyes stared at me, and she murmured...we'll get through Leese.  We will.  I doubted so much. 

Deep inside, I thought holy shit, I hope we do honey, and I hope you are strong enough to hold on.  And I didn't even really know what she would hold onto.  

Really. 

She stayed in that hospital every.single.night.  To see your lover curled into a ball, puking, bleeding, crying and sometimes outright out of it and super sick.  She never left. I'll never forget the morning she cleaned chunks of puke from their shower, as he made his way back to bed. Feeling horrible himself.  She would come and go and most always walk in with her shiny, "Hey Babes"!  I would ALWAYS see his eyes and soul light up.  Something you can't explain, just witness. 

I will leave to my dusty ashes with the look on my kids' faces when they are in love.  

That look in their faces....melt me. 

Same goes for heartache.  Our hearts I believe hurt just a tad more. 

She drove more miles to and from City Of Hope back and forth to work, home, and hospital than she probably cares to relive.  But she did.

Because of LOVE. 

She watched her tall handsome boyfriend, and yes I'm saying this because he's my boy...lol-

wither down to a hairless skinny bird.  His first complaint being, his butt gone.  Long gone.  So much so, it hurts to sit on a wooden chair too long. He takes a beanie off at home looking like a stellar bird.

To not be able to kiss your love, and do all the things lovers do because sickness is real.  And getting a virus can take your life.  And so you're guarded.  

I've watched her walk in with a smile to light the room and keep it lit, as he's in a ball. 

Because she has faith in his healing.  In him.  To not give up.

This holiday season, from Thanksgiving to Christmas we all held eachother closer.  With more meaning.

We spent time with her parents, combining a tradition we hold so dear.  

Looking back, I was a huge stress ball, and I'm sure these days will feel the same some day. 

But we held eachother up.  Courage. Talking through fears.  Transplant.  Cancer.  Foods.  Chemo body.

Family stuff that we have to do, to remain strong, and very vigilant. Never really losing our cool, even on the hardest days, we touched base, kept eachother informed, and kept our schedule and plans in place.

Jen.  Jenny.  Janet.  

Thank you honey.  Thank you for holding his hand through this storm.  And as I read the card you gave him for Valentines, sitting on his dresser...the front said something along the lines of "when you go through things together...blah blah blah"-

You.  You two....are a testimonial verse.  Chapter.  Pages and pages....of just that. 

And I love you two so very much. 

Keep on keeping on.  Don't look back.  Look at where you plan to be. 

Together. 

Happy Taco Tuesday....

Stay cool kids..

xo

This Mama Lisa

 
ps-  Update from yesterday's doc visit- Kris drove himself.   His platelet counts have dropped a little more.  Doctors aren't too worried, just lowered one more steroid.  He has a virus in his system that he's had since being a little guy (hello science at COH) and it's reared it's head again. Lowering the platelets will give his white counts a chance to fight the virus off.  We go back on Thursday for another check.  Monday's and Thursday's.  Other than that, he's hot.  And trying to stay sane, and in as much as possible.  Doing his normal cruising to and fro....counting each day as a blessing, and moving forward.  Never back-

pss.  He's taken over most jars in the house for the housing of PICKLES.  Those are his jam right now.
Pickles and mexican candy.