Today marks three years since my daughter, Ke’ili, was hospitalized after being in bed for five weeks thinking she had Covid. It turned out to be Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. My heart froze when she called me to say she was on her way to the ER. 30 minutes later; she called back to tell me that the doctors thought she had either lymphoma or leukemia. They were taking her by ambulance to a hospital with a cancer center. I calmly told her to call with the test results. I sat in my living room in paradise and watched my world turn fuzzy and grey—again. When my little boy was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, the doctors told me it was not hereditary. I thought, how can this possibly be happening? Why her? Why me again? And on top of it all, it was the 35th anniversary of the day Cory died from ALL.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross is known for saying, “If you shield yourself from the canyons, you would never see the beauty of their carvings.” Life is full of ups and downs. Mountain highs and valley lows.
If you know me, you know that Steve and I moved to SD County to take care of Ke’ili. It was a whirlwind. In three and a half weeks, I got us packed, asked Danyelle to manage the house, Steve closed his practice, we called a mover, and we left Maui. Taking care of Kei was our focus, which was awful at times but a privilege too. We laughed when we could. We prayed daily. Because of Covid and Kei’s lack of immunity from the meds, we lived in our own little bubble.
This morning, looking back to both of those days, my tears are flowing, and the holes left in my heart by the experiences echo my inner voice, which is shouting at me to be thankful I had Cory for as long as I did and that Ke’ili is healing. Kei is done with treatment and glad to be alive. It was rough, just over two and a half years of chemotherapy for her, but she faced it with courage and conviction. Even when she couldn’t walk or her mouth sores made it hard to take nourishment, she fought. She never got to know her brother because he died before she was born, but Ke’ili reminds me of him, especially the brave way she fought to kick cancer’s ass. I am grateful.
I don’t want to think too much about Cory’s last day on Earth. It is still too painful after all these years. Shirlee Kimball and I did the best we could. Cory was amazing until his last breath. I am grateful he chose me to be his mother. What a ride! Right through those flippin’ canyons.
Be well. Be grateful. Be kind.
Shirley
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