When my three children were young, every night I put them to bed one at a time. We'd talk for a few minutes before beginning our ritual interactive songs, tucking-in, kisses, "Nighty night" and lights out.
One evening as I began the routine with my youngest, he said something that practically stopped my heart: "Mom, do you remember when...."
It doesn't matter what it was that he was asking me about. All I could think was, "He remembers! He's old enough to remember!"
My son was 22 months old when I was first diagnosed with cancer, 3 1/2 when I had my first recurrence and 4 1/2 when I traveled to Stanford to participate in a Phase I clinical trial. Until that evening, when he was five or so, one of my fears was dying before he was old enough to remember me.
I hadn't thought about that for a long time, until I read an article in the Dallas Morning News about a local mom with incurable cancer.
Jamie Thompson's article entitled "Mother Tried to Pack Lifetime into 2 Years" is not for the faint of heart. But I hope you'll find a small space in your busy week to read -- and to feel -- the story of Leah Siegel and her young family.
Her story will help set the stage for my next post, an introduction to someone who understands the value of creating memories.