“And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make.”-The Beatles

Jackson had his last chemotherapy on a cold day in 2012. We hit the five years off of therapy mark this past January. That’s the point where they start to use the other “C” word, the good one. I just content myself with watching him grow and say to myself: 

“It’s a good day.”

February 14, 2012-CBJ

“So pack your bags, head out the door. You don’t need chemo anymore.”-Clinic 8 Nurses End of Chemo Song

Well, a procrastinator by nature, I have put off making this entry, perhaps because I don’t know how to sum up this experience in mere words. Still, I must try because this will be our last Caring bridge update. I have decided to turn my face to the future and go forward. It is time to think about something else, to BE something else than “that family that has a child with cancer”.

As we neared the end of treatment I wrestled with the angel over my fear of being “off therapy”. Even though the chemo is hard, you feel like you are doing something. As usual, God eventually gave me peace about it and by the time we finished I was able to be as excited as he was.

We had a wonderful celebration trip to Disneyworld with all of our family. Several of us, including me, ran the half Marathon there in Jack’s honor for LLS Team In Training. It was so symbolic and moving to finish the race and cross that finish line as my baby crossed his. All the fundraising that my family has done for LLS is in the neighborhood of $65,000, all for research. All in the hopes that maybe one day there will be a cure. We call that paying it forward. It was such a wonderful time of fun and family. In fact, the day of the race, the whole joyful day, I count as one of the happiest days of my life. Rarely in life is something as good as you hoped it would be, but this was. And didn’t we ALL deserve it?

By the time he took his last pills on Friday, January 13^th, it was kind of anti-climactic. He has felt great and I notice that he is already starting to have color again. We go for our first monthly check up on Friday, and I feel that all will be well. We will have monthly visits for the first year, then every 2 months for the second year, every 3 months for the third year and so on. He will be considered cured 5 years after the end of treatment.

So, now we come to the end of the road. How can we ever thank you? We could never have survived this all so well without the love, prayers and many kindnesses shown us. How could we completely regret this ordeal when it introduced us to so many wonderful people and organizations that we would never have gotten to experience otherwise? We can’t imagine our lives now without our “c” family friends, Make A Wish and Camp SAM. We got a chance to see God’s real presence in our lives and His love in action through all of you. Yes, it’s been a million dollar experience, but I wouldn’t give you a nickel for another one just like it!

So, from now on no news is good news. You can assume that we will be out devouring life. We have learned nothing else, if not this, to enjoy every moment of every day. I will continue to pray for you all and thank God for you. And I hope that we will meet you along the road as we go.

God bless you,

Mary

“May the LORD repay you for what you have done.”-Ruth 2:12

Epilogue

April 24, 2015-North Sokol Park

Tonight baseball practice has run long. When we get home there will be the homework, shower, bed gauntlet to be run. All around me parents are beginning to grumble.

But as for me, it is a warm spring night and I sit under a blanket of stars. A breeze rolls in from behind the trees, and with it the smell of fresh cut grass, and red dirt and sweaty little boys. I hear crickets, and bats clanging and children shouting.

And in right field I see him, my little boy, the one that almost got away. He is running, running, running away from me now, looking over his shoulder and laughing. I could stay here all night.