Uh oh, you're thinking. The title of this blog sounds pretty deep and philosophical. Some of you may be enticed by the thought of me writing about such deep matters rather than my usual trivial nonsense. Others may have stopped reading immediately after seeing the title. That's okay. I don't blame you. Emily and philosophy is a scary combination, like Britney Spears and hair clippers. But yes, I am feeling deep and philosophical so be warned. It's a rare occasion, but this time I'm writing for me. No jokes, no sarcasm. Just me and my raw thoughts. They're thoughts I need to get off my chest or else they will just keep lingering in my brain and my brain can't handle many lingering thoughts these days.
Being the pessimist that I am, hope is never something I've struggled with because it's never really existed to me. The very reason I struggle with religion is my inability to be hopeful and believe in things that I don't have hardcore evidence to believe in. That all changed when Mark was diagnosed with cancer. Suddenly, being hopeful was the only option I could bear. The alternative meant not being hopeful. It meant believing all of the statistics and evidence supporting the fact that he probably wouldn't be around for much longer. That was much more difficult to bear than believing in something the odds were against. It's been two years since the doctors gave Mark 6 months to live. For 2 years now, Mark has proven that hope does exist and being hopeful is worth the risk. He has defeated all of the odds and all of the statistics. His determination and will to live has made being hopeful so easy, even for those of us whom the emotion is so foreign. In my mind, there were no alternatives to being hopeful. Mark will beat this disease. Mark is not going to die anytime soon. Mark will be at my wedding. Mark will be a grandfather to my children. The list goes on and on. It wasn't until this past Saturday that it hit me: am I being hopeful, or am I in denial? It hit me when Mark made an offhand comment about my mom and his birthday party this month possibly being his last. I kind of laughed it off and said, yeah right. He then got a little more serious and told me that we really don't know what might happen in the next year. These words pierced my heart. A lump filled my throat, just as it's doing now. My eyes filled with tears, just as they're doing now. I started to wonder if my two years of being hopeful have sent me in a whirlwind of denial.
Denial is another emotion I'm not too familiar with. I've never really had the opportunity to deny the circumstances in my life. The most pain-staking events that I've ever incurred have happened with absolutely no warning and no time for denial. Cancer is a whole other animal. There are those people who are hopeful, "we can beat this." And there are those people who are realists, "the odds are not good." So where does denial come into play? Are those people who are hopeful actually just in denial? Or are those people who are realists too afraid to be hopeful in case the odds actually come true? We are people who like to prepare. We are people that stock our basements with water, flashlights, and canned foods before New Year's eve in 1999 just in case Y2K really did exist (Yes, Mark really did that - we called it his Y2K kit.. shoot...I said no humor). Planners must be realists. They must plan for all outcomes. I'm a planner myself, and I too like to be prepared for all possible outcomes. So why have I not faced the fact that I don't know what is going to happen within the next year? I don't know how much longer Mark has on this Earth and I don't know that he will be around for my wedding (this is hypothetical here... no wedding is actually planned at this point - just FYI) and I don't know that he will be around to see my kids grow up (again...just hypothetical - no kids on the way - shoot.... another joke). I don't want to be in denial. I don't want to ignore the fact that the statistics aren't good. And I don't want to ignore the fact that Mark might not be around forever. But I don't want to lose hope either. I believe that Mark has defied all odds so far and that he can continue to do the same. The thought of losing Mark any time soon is too much to bear. I can't imagine my life without him, so I don't. Where should the line be drawn? Can I be both a realists and an optimist? I know there are no real answers to these questions, but still I must ask them anyway. I know that there is no script to follow in these situations, but still I'm longing to hear someone say..."this is how you should act..." and "this is how you should feel." If only life were that simple. Instead we have to throw things like hearts and emotions into the mix to screw up any chance of logic and structure. I don't know what the future will bring. I do know that the only emotion my body can handle at this point is hope. Whether that makes me in denial or not doesn't really matter, because for once in my life I am hopeful about something and it would be such a shame to destroy that.
Being the pessimist that I am, hope is never something I've struggled with because it's never really existed to me. The very reason I struggle with religion is my inability to be hopeful and believe in things that I don't have hardcore evidence to believe in. That all changed when Mark was diagnosed with cancer. Suddenly, being hopeful was the only option I could bear. The alternative meant not being hopeful. It meant believing all of the statistics and evidence supporting the fact that he probably wouldn't be around for much longer. That was much more difficult to bear than believing in something the odds were against. It's been two years since the doctors gave Mark 6 months to live. For 2 years now, Mark has proven that hope does exist and being hopeful is worth the risk. He has defeated all of the odds and all of the statistics. His determination and will to live has made being hopeful so easy, even for those of us whom the emotion is so foreign. In my mind, there were no alternatives to being hopeful. Mark will beat this disease. Mark is not going to die anytime soon. Mark will be at my wedding. Mark will be a grandfather to my children. The list goes on and on. It wasn't until this past Saturday that it hit me: am I being hopeful, or am I in denial? It hit me when Mark made an offhand comment about my mom and his birthday party this month possibly being his last. I kind of laughed it off and said, yeah right. He then got a little more serious and told me that we really don't know what might happen in the next year. These words pierced my heart. A lump filled my throat, just as it's doing now. My eyes filled with tears, just as they're doing now. I started to wonder if my two years of being hopeful have sent me in a whirlwind of denial.
Denial is another emotion I'm not too familiar with. I've never really had the opportunity to deny the circumstances in my life. The most pain-staking events that I've ever incurred have happened with absolutely no warning and no time for denial. Cancer is a whole other animal. There are those people who are hopeful, "we can beat this." And there are those people who are realists, "the odds are not good." So where does denial come into play? Are those people who are hopeful actually just in denial? Or are those people who are realists too afraid to be hopeful in case the odds actually come true? We are people who like to prepare. We are people that stock our basements with water, flashlights, and canned foods before New Year's eve in 1999 just in case Y2K really did exist (Yes, Mark really did that - we called it his Y2K kit.. shoot...I said no humor). Planners must be realists. They must plan for all outcomes. I'm a planner myself, and I too like to be prepared for all possible outcomes. So why have I not faced the fact that I don't know what is going to happen within the next year? I don't know how much longer Mark has on this Earth and I don't know that he will be around for my wedding (this is hypothetical here... no wedding is actually planned at this point - just FYI) and I don't know that he will be around to see my kids grow up (again...just hypothetical - no kids on the way - shoot.... another joke). I don't want to be in denial. I don't want to ignore the fact that the statistics aren't good. And I don't want to ignore the fact that Mark might not be around forever. But I don't want to lose hope either. I believe that Mark has defied all odds so far and that he can continue to do the same. The thought of losing Mark any time soon is too much to bear. I can't imagine my life without him, so I don't. Where should the line be drawn? Can I be both a realists and an optimist? I know there are no real answers to these questions, but still I must ask them anyway. I know that there is no script to follow in these situations, but still I'm longing to hear someone say..."this is how you should act..." and "this is how you should feel." If only life were that simple. Instead we have to throw things like hearts and emotions into the mix to screw up any chance of logic and structure. I don't know what the future will bring. I do know that the only emotion my body can handle at this point is hope. Whether that makes me in denial or not doesn't really matter, because for once in my life I am hopeful about something and it would be such a shame to destroy that.
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