I haven't been writing because mostly I can't figure out what I can bring to this space that is happiness and light. The news of the second tumor pulled the rug out, left us breathless and gasping for air that wouldn't come.  Weeks went by before I could properly fill my lungs, swallow without a catch, blink without tears, remember my last thought.  Often I still can't.

This path has changed our lives in ways I can't even begin to fathom.  Sometimes for a brief moment I think that it's a joke, or somehow a mistake, that we'll soon go back to how it all was before...but those thoughts melt quickly into the reality of what is. 

And so last night we set up the tent in our yard, and built a campfire and snuggled the girls in blankets and watched the first stars come out.  The moon was eventually so bright we could make shadow puppets with our hands.  We crawled in our sleeping bags and felt the earth beneath us and breathed in its steady energy as we fell asleep.

I know that the work before me is to remain present in this moment.  That fear is a story I tell myself about an unknown future.  I know that we have this moment now and in it he is working toward health and balance.  I know that this moment now is all any of us really have.