For more than six years now I have been sharing snippets and vignettes from my waltz with leukemia. But what I haven’t spoken of much was the dance that my mom was living parallel to my own; first with breast cancer and then in the last three months, stage four lung cancer.
Two weeks ago, I stood in my driveway as my oldest son, Shawn, gave me a hug, climbed into his SUV, and drove away down the street. He waved to me, and as I waved back I whispered, “God, please bless your son as he rides into this next chapter of his life in pursuit of his dream to play quarterback in college.”
My wife is 41 years young, and she keeps our house running smoothly, especially in conjunction with our three kiddos: 7-year-old twinlets Leo and Ella, and 6-year-old Jordan. Recently, I had the responsibility of the kid’s dinner, bath-and-bedtime routine all to myself because my wife was having a sleepover. That’s right, an adult sleepover.