<p>LTS, re your posts #979 + #988 – I am saddened & frustrated to learn of the bad news with your latest scan. </p>
<p>This is a difficult post for me to write, because I want to say some things to you about your daughter – and it may sound insensitive to your own needs. It is not intended that way – I am trying to respond to the fears you expressed when you wrote: She will be left all alone in the world, in a city where she would not choose to be, except for me. There are no other surviving relatives and no siblings. Worse, she will be grieving the loss of her only parent. </p>
<p>Here is what I want to say: please have faith in your daughter, including her resiliency and her ability to make the best decisions for herself as well as to support you. The fears you express would be very realistic if your daughter were 9 – but as a young adult, already graduated from college: she has the foundation she needs to move on. I was about the same age as your when my mother died --suddenly and unexpectedly, from natural causes (a stroke). I survived. I was 24; my mom was 48. </p>
<p>My career was just starting and there were some changes forced by my mother’s sudden death… but career-wise & friendship-wise, they were good changes, not bad. Yes my whole world was rocked by the sudden loss of my parent, but odd as it sounds, I felt stronger, more ready to conquer the world. I was fortunate enough to get grief counseling that helped me understand my feelings and avoid feeling guilty over the new sense of empowerment I had – of course I loved my mother and would have given anything to have her back, but the loss of my mom also represented a new level of emotional freedom for me, a time when internally I truly became an adult, and when I also felt that as I had survived the “worst” that could ever happen to me (what could be worse than losing a parent?) – that there was nothing left for me to fear. </p>
<p>When you stress over your daughter leaving her network and connections in Miami for D.C… then I know you are not thinking straight – as obviously there is the potential for her to make extraordinary personal and career connections in D.C. So rather than hurting her, your illness may be the event that nudges her in directions that are potentially far more rewarding for her in the long run. You never know – but there will be new friends in DC, new experiences. As to her Miami friends: with cell phones, face book, and discount airlines, your d. will stay in touch with the true friends that count in her life… and these times will also reveal which among her friends are not to be counted on… I can tell you from my own experience she will know it is no great loss to move on from those “friends” who prove to be insensitive in this time of need.</p>
<p>As to your situation: I cannot possibly imagine the horror and despair engendered when you come face-to-face with your own mortality. But we each will die - for each of us, it is only a question of when and how. Last year at this time I was attending the memorial service for a 19-year-old friend of my daughter’s – the most vibrant, open, loving, happy young woman you can imagine – who was killed in a horrible freeway accident. </p>
<p>None of us can count on living forever – but we can make the most of our lives while we can. As horrible as it is that you have been struck with this disease, you are fortunate that you are currently in good enough shape so that you are able to care for yourself and – outside of the frequent hospital visits – lead a fairly “normal” life. You can have fun with your daughter and for now make the most of the rest of your time with her, whether that time is measured in weeks or months or (as we hope) years – and that is what you should do, every day that you can. </p>
<p>So please… understand that your current surface good health is a gift to your daughter – and that no parent can give their child the gift of everlasting life or immortality. What you have done is raised your daughter to adulthood and given her the foundation to build a good life for herself – and right now she also has been blessed with the knowledge that she needs to prioritize and cherish her time with you. Those of us who lose our parents unexpectedly often are left with regrets – if only we had returned that last phone call, if only we hadn’t had that last argument. – so as painful as it is on both ends, knowledge is precious: it allows us to plan, to make amends where needed, and to build the memories that will sustain the continuation of life. </p>
<p>My mother passed away 30 years ago, but she is still with me – she comes to me in my dreams, where she now is younger than me. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror. I have always been sorry that she never knew her precious grandchildren, and that they cannot know her — but at the same time I know that she lives on through them. </p>
<p>I know that is not much comfort to you – but I am trying to help you see things from your daughter’s perspective – to understand that the most important thing you can give her now is your companionship and the memories that will sustain her for the rest of her life – and to know that she will always find comfort and support in those memories. So if you truly want to help and support her, then please understand that for her – every “sacrifice” she makes for you at this time in her life is a gift that will give her solace and strength for future.</p>
<p>Again, I am hoping that this post does not seem in any way insensitive to the horror and fear you must be feeling when you contemplate your own future. There is nothing I can possibly say to address or ease that pain. I just want you to stop feeling guilty about the impact of your illness on your daughter. It is no more of an imposition for your daughter to move from one city to another to be with you than it was for you to stay home and change her diapers all those years when others your age were out partying; it is the things that we do in our lives out of love that ultimately enrich and sustain us.</p>