I used to think I was pretty good at living in the moment. And, then I got cancer. My world got small. My moments got clear. I realized I hadn’t really been living in the moment at all. I learned to let go. It wasn’t easy. I kicked and screamed along the way. I found that living in the moment was all I had. It got easier.
Suddenly, it got hard again. My eight-year old golden retriever, Ginger, got sick. It happened suddenly. On a Friday, we went for our routine morning jog. The next morning, she didn’t even want to go for a walk. I knew something was wrong. My heart sank. After a week’s worth of vet appointments, she had surgery to remove her spleen. They found a mass. I am all too familiar with that nebulous word. She’s still in the hospital. Test results aren’t back yet. It’s most likely an aggressive form of cancer with months to live. There is a small chance it’s not. I’m not living in this moment. I don’t want to be in this moment. I am kicking and screaming again. I suck at this.
I love hard. I grieve even harder. It’s the price I pay.
For now, she is still with me. I’m not ready to let go. I plan to hold on tight.