Saturday, February 20, 2016

My own River of Lethe




That is just a few words I would use to describe my memories.  So much of my childhood is missing, my school years spotty.  Listening to friends describe antics we got up to as kids, is like to listening to someone else's life.  It's as if at points in my life I have waded through the River Lethe.  Washed clean my memories.

Trying to root through my memories is something I dislike, not because of what they contain, but because I have access to so few.  The few that are ingrained are ones that I truly wish I could let fade in to the background.

A few things you would think I would remember

My wedding... huge freaking blanks throughout that day!  Especially of the ceremony.

High School... I know I went, I have a couple of moments I remember.  The most distinct being teacher conferences in Grade 10.  I had finally pulled a grade up to the high 70's (had been failing) in Accounting, my Step-fathers comment to my teacher was not to get too excited, I'd start failing again soon enough. Being ground down are among the strongest memories I have.  I do remember my teacher trying to talk to me the next day, asking if I needed help.  Why didn't I beg him for help, instead of telling him I was ok?!?!

One set of memories I'm glad to have fading, are the ones of my ex husband.  Then again, our marriage was so lackluster there isn't much that would stand out.

Then we get to the sharp and clear memories.

The birth of my three amazing boys, each experience so unique.

Then the few days surrounding my middle son's cancer diagnosis.  I can tell you the time that each major moment happened, I can remember what the room looked like.  I most especially can remember the abject fear and terror that I felt running through my veins like wildfire.  No one (other than another cancer mom) truly understands how that changes everything about your life!  I may not be living in those moments, but they have shaped who I am now.  I look back on moments from before, and it's like looking into someone else's life.  Do I wish I was as carefree and easy going as before?  YES.  Three years is not nearly long enough to forget those months and months of wondering if my child would truly survive.  If I would be granted the chance to watch him grow up.  Treatment may be done, but cancer is still a large part of our lives.  The constant leg pain he gets, caused by one of the chemo's in his cocktail.  The unknown heart problem that is limiting his activity, likely caused from a different chemo.  When does it end?  Just because remission is achieved, does not mean your life is clear of cancer.

How I wish the River Lethe was before me now, to help numb the memories that pervade my life so completely.

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