Transitions

A few years ago I worked with foster children, specifically between the transition of an abusive home to a foster home. Almost consistently among abused children there is a phenomenon. They get into a safe "normal" place, and yet they try to disrupt everything that is safe and normal about it. Lately I feel a strange sense of understanding this. I took the kids on some errands today. Something that we all do regularly and think nothing of it, right? It felt very strange. I haven't done it for almost a year. I've either been too ill to go or have needed a babysitter. I felt like we belonged back at home, the hospital, among medical equipment, just somewhere other than normal society. Although I have no desire for Amanda to have to go back through the tough first six months of treatment, I still have this feeling that it is where we are supposed to belong. I've spent the last six months focused on the intense phase of leukemia and the daily task of asking myself and God, "how do I get through this?" I could not see past November. Every minute counts so heavily during cancer. Now that we are here I find myself happier, but feeling very out of place. It's a peculiar transition. Now that we know cancer, we can never overlook it. I constantly think of those recently diagnosed or in the toughest parts of their treatments. My heart aches for them because I now know what it is like. Every time we go to Primary's I look at the windows of the oncology unit and wonder who is in our room, who is fighting the fight, who is miserable. I often hear parents of cancer survivors say, "she never complained." I can say, "boy did she ever complain! But, she easily forgot and moved on." I suppose I need to start following Amanda's example.
She will transition back to school on December 1st. She is starting to act more and more like herself again. Falling asleep without drama is still an issue, but that will just take time. She is going to emerge from this a stronger person both physically and emotionally. I can finally see it. She will go back to "normal" without any hesitation or regrets. I am eager to get there with her.