Three, Two, One…Blast Off!

As the days got closer to Jack’s two year remission, I couldn’t get the DMB lyric, “celebrate we will because life is short but sweet for certain,” out of my head. If there’s anything I’ve learned since Jack was born, it’s that life is so incredibly short...fleeting in fact. But as crazy as life can be, there are so many things that help make it wonderful and we will be celebrating that with many of the people who we love this weekend. So many people will not understand this celebration. They’ll think that we’re celebrating Jack’s birthday… or more likely, some will see the pictures from the party we’re throwing and sourly say, “OMG are they still talking about cancer!?”...or my favorite, “but he’s fine now.” The fact is, Jack is in remission but it’s not over. He’s still three more years away from actually being considered “cured” of cancer. That’s why we still rock our JACKATTACK bracelets - waiting for that fateful day when it’s really over and we can ceremoniously take them off. It’s also why the doctors have demanded that we celebrate his remission each year - because it’s an absolute miracle. While I could worry about what other people think, I know that until you live it, you have no idea how much cancer changes the way you think about life and the importance of celebrating it. Thankfully there are now so many days where we are too busy living to think about the bad parts of the journey. We’re too busy being grateful. Then there are days when we hear about yet another kiddo being diagnosed. Or even worse, we think about the kids who didn’t make it and wonder why God chose us and not their families. The mixed emotions are constant and are part of the reason I thought I’d head back to the blog - so I could get out of my head and feel a little more at peace.

When Jack went to his last appointment with one of our family's heroes - the doctors who saved our boy - it happened to be on the anniversary of the day he started his last chemo. The doctor practically insisted we should be leaving the appointment and going out to celebrate. She also reminded us we better party like crazy on his remission date. Dan and I politely agreed and left the appointment. While we almost always follow our doc’s orders, in the car, almost in sync, we said there was no way in hell we’d celebrate that day - the day that started the round of chemo that almost killed our son. Most people don’t know this, but Jack almost didn’t make it out of round 4. And by almost, I mean nurses, doctors, and our family all thought we lost him as he fought fevers, unknown infections, and was unable to breathe regularly without the aide of oxygen. As I type this, I can barely see the screen through my tears in recalling the memories of just how bad it was for Jack. But as life would have it, I’m simultaneously laughing at my amazing boy talking politely to the TV show he’s watching. My goodness, God has a funny way of reminding you how life is good amongst all the mixed emotions.

Just the other day, my best pal and I were talking about Jack’s 2 year remission party and I was suggesting I’d do something that would take a lot of work on my part. She immediately interrupted and said there was no way I was doing that, because I should relax and enjoy the celebration because we’ve been through so much...just like Jack. That got me thinking. There is so much people don’t know about Jack’s cancer journey, and so many people who don’t give themselves credit for being part of our team. That very friend was part of the girl gang who threw one of the most amazing fundraisers for our family - one that made it possible to afford to take the days off without pay to be with my boy. That friend was one of many who checked on me when she knew I wasn’t okay and let me cry it out. That friend was one of the few who saw pictures of Jack at his worst and encouraged me that he looked great, even though I know it was hard to see him like that. I can’t wait to celebrate with her and others like her - because we all deserve it. 

So as he hits two years in remission, you better believe that “celebrate we will.” And we will continue to celebrate each day. We’ll celebrate every milestone with Jack, with Cooper, with our amazing friends, their families, our buddies who have also battled, and our family (aka our boys’ village) who deserves all the celebrations in the world. We’ll celebrate our incredible community who helped us through our worst days. We’ll celebrate by working as much as we can to give back and help fight childhood cancer, blood cancer, and any other cause that means something to the people we love. But for now, we'll take a moment to celebrate our little miracle: Three Years Old, Two Years Remission, and, by golly, One Tough Kid. Blast Off, Jack! I can't wait to celebrate you and even better, see what the future brings for you, my boy.