It was the best of days...

Today was the perfect end to summer.

It was the best of days.

Before leaving for church early this morning, Eric gave me my shot. I laid around for a couple hours as the medicine worked its magic and the pain worked itself through my legs. Eventually, I took a shower and then headed over to my sisters house for a family workday. My parents kept the kids last night so it was easy to take my time and enjoy getting ready.

At my sister and brother-in-laws (Katie and Ryan) house there was a team of friends and family working to lay a decomposed granite walkway/border around their backyard. Their yard is huge, so this project required a ton of help and muscle to get it done. In the end, the walkway looks amazing and as soon as the sod goes down their yard will be easy to mistake for a park.

Of course, I just sat around watching people work and kids play. I sipped my water and did my best to not look the way I felt inside. The day started catching up with me so I went in and laid down for a little rest while the guys ran to the store to get dinner. After a peaceful nap I returned to the fun.

And that’s when it happened. I felt normal.

The 'little people' in my life.
Back left to right: Nathan, Parker, Eden, Will
Front left to right: Norah, Lincoln, Kaylee, Jordyn, Leah
August 2011, Photo taken at our family reunion.

The kids ran in circles playing soccer while Katie and Eric ran around them creating a monkey-in-the-middle scenario. When there are 9 children under the age of 6 you know there is fun to be had. It was like watching a movie where there is a perfect families having a beyond real time – perfect playing together, perfect laughter, perfect lighting, perfect weather, perfect conversation, perfect every last thing.

As we ate dinner, the kids made each other laugh and then walked around to the adults telling and making up jokes on the spot. A couple kids even shared songs they had learned in school. Dinner was delicious and ice cream was the perfect end to the night.

I felt like I was watching the evening end in the same way you would watch the sands of an hourglass disappear. And then it happened… I found myself ‘grrrrrrring’ like a lion at the kids as they squealed in delight. They ran away from me and then came back for more and more and more. In my exhaustion, I worked up what little energy was left to be the crazy loud aunt that I want my son and nieces and nephews to think of me as. You see, I am the aunt that sneaks kids candy as if we are keeping a secret from their parents. I am the aunt that puts on dance parties and lets them run around off-the-hook at my house. I encourage giggling at sleepovers and throw birthday parties based around sugar. I jump in the kiddie pool with my clothes on and bring out the tickle monster as often as possible. Each of the 4 aunts/moms in the room have their own special identity, which we all respect and appreciate… I try to be the wild one.

After ‘grrrrrrrring’ for about 10 minutes, I knew I needed a pill so I slipped away for a short break. And in that moment I began to cry. This might be a slight stretch, but I felt like the father, Guido, from the amazing movie “Life is Beautiful” (La Vita è Bella, 1997). In the film, the father is a playful dreamer who uses his over the top imagination to attempt to stay alive and help his son survive the horrors of a Jewish Concentration Camp. Throughout the movie, Guido, pretends that the Holocaust is a game and he challenges his son to earn points by hiding and to ‘win’ because the grand prize is a tank. It may seem like a strange illustration, but I can’t get out of my mind the image when the guards are taking the dad away, and the boy is hiding in a box and yet Guido still acts silly for his son, marching like a toy solider, bringing the child joy up until the last moments. As if humor can cover fear. (This is an amazing film if you have not seen it. My highest of recommendation.)

I know what is coming with my illness, but I want to do anything I can to keep the little people in my life from thinking that I am as scared as I really am. They all know that I am sick, and my niece Kaylee was even telling me today about her pink camouflage breast cancer bracelet that she has to remind her of me. They all know that I am going to loose my hair. We are not hiding the truth from the kids. But… I do have a need to hide my fear of the unknown and to protect their innocence.

I want them to think of me as crazy Aunt Kelly… not as a sick lady that needs quiet and ruins the fun.

I plan to still sneak them candy. I will wear pirate-like bandannas with an eye patch and wigs made of streamers. Maybe I will make up a contest where we add up how much I sleep and when I reach a thousand hours, we get to go to Disneyland. I do not know for sure all the outrageous stuff I will have to come up with to keep things light… but trust me; I’ll do my best to keep it CRAZY.