Be In The Moment

Silently I kept repeating "be in the moment" yet my mind belligerently strayed back to 2007 and Joe.

While standing by the Compass on Locust Walk at UPenn with old friends from McCallie and new ones he had met in college, I forced myself to focus on the conversation. But memories of my visit with Joe would take over. I would carefully lower my eyes to hold the tears in check, take a breath and summon my faithful cover of quick comments followed by a boisterous laugh.

But these were stubborn memories. Three years ago I stood by the Compass while Joe eyed the very fraternity he would eventually decide to pledge, the hotel where we stayed was looming in the background and the choice for dinner was where we had lunch. The painful irony of it all.

Repeating "be in the moment, you are here with Tony and David, that visit is in the past" was futile. And it didn't help to randomly encounter other McCallie men while walking on campus. My strength was being tested to the limits, I was unraveling and fearing a total melt down. Not something I wanted to do in the middle of Locust Walk surrounded by his friends. I could hear random comments, snippets of laughter as I toiled to take command of my runaway feelings.

My last ditch effort was to lock my gaze on Tony and David before scanning the faces of his friends. Remembering is good, but not to the point of ignoring this incredible moment of Joe's friends offering us their love and support just by being present. Memories and "being in the moment", however delicate the balance, each deserve their own time.

The Road To College

We have arrived in Annapolis, Maryland after a full day on the train marking the beginning of Tony and David's college visits. This trip reminds me that time continues to march on, even though there are times we are stuck in the past.

I am not going down memory lane, wondering where the time has gone, but rather I am amazed how remarkably grown up they are and the amount of thought they have dedicated to their choices. Of course, outside of two colleges their lists are totally different making this a logistical challenge, so they will patiently sit through each other's visits. So it goes with twins.

Yes time marches on and I am grateful to be here catching a glimpse of their future.

My Boys Are Home

Spring Break is here. Our home is filled with Tony and David's chatter, the table is overflowing with food and they are continuously sleeping. It is their time to relax, but only for a few days since we hit the road for college visits!

I am going to relish this time with Tony and David and the beginning of new memories.

The Price Paid

I read an article in a free local publication basically asking what a life costs. Of course it was tied closely to dollar amounts incurred by cancer patients and it got me thinking. I can tell you to the penny what Joe's treatments and surgeries cost; even how much we are still paying for them each month.

But I never think about that when my mind wanders back over the past four years. Joe's visible price paid was losing his hair, scars from his leg resection, removing two thirds of his right lung and chemo port surgeries. Out of plain sight was the loss of memory during his second protocol. He had no recollection of anything that happened before January 2008. As a family we would repeat stories of him growing up. Soon the "inner circle" of his friends picked up on it and adopted the same practice.

My memories never include the monetary cost, instead I am reminded of the incredible price Joe paid for a slim chance of survival.

For The Love Of It

Watching David row has earned a spot on my top ten favorite list. There is something about the easy rhythm of his stroke and the relaxed demeanor when taking the bow position he has held for three years. With his tanned face and windswept hair, he looks at home on the river, in the sliver of a boat pulling his oar under the relentless direction of the coxswain. Since it is his responsibility to keep the boat steady, a job David takes seriously, every pull is done to near technical perfection.

David left behind gymnastics, diving and swimming, which ironically we have boxes filled with ribbons and medals he earned, to row. Only once was he in a top boat, and that was a fluke, he is usually shuffled from one boat to another; and there are no glorious accolades or MVP plaques at the crew banquet for David.

Yet every fall and spring David goes back to row simply for the love of it.

Home

Before exiting the gates of McCallie I always take one last look over my shoulder, a habit similar to the nightly check on your children when they are young before heading off to bed. I can't seem to make the turn on to the road until my ritual is complete, it is this mom's quiet goodbye after the fanfares of hugs outside the dorm.

After a perfect weekend of watching David row, wonderful meals, college dominated conversations and a long talk in the parking lot it was time to make my way to Charlotte. I glanced over my shoulder one more time before heading home, sending my love to Tony and David and a quiet goodbye.