Living each day… (A Post from Angie)
I’ve always heard people say to “Live each day as though it were your last.” I’ve never really understood exactly how to do that, but I would think about it often and wonder if I were living how I would really want to if it were my last. But, how do you live each day knowing in a very tangible way that it could be your love’s last day? This, I have no idea and it actually seems much harder to me. And for the past 7 months this thought has been consistently in my head, and for the past 3 weeks not a moment has gone by that I don’t think about it. It is with me everywhere. In the hospital, I felt like I was watching Will die and with every moment that passed I felt like I was dying with him and in some ways I was. I didn’t know if we would ever walk through the door of our apartment together again. I didn’t know if I would ever hug him again without a brace in between us. I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that we were talking about burial locations.
But the day came that we were able to come home. We did walk through our door again and Will seemed better. But, a couple of days later, he was once again declining. Was it the cancer? Was it the new regimen we had him on? There was/is no way of knowing what is going on in Will’s body. Is he getting better? Is he getting worse? As the days go by, I become more and more aware of the fact that we are at the end of the 3-week mark since we were told he only had weeks left. Throughout the day I glance over at his chest… is he still breathing? He is… thank you Lord. I ask myself… do I take a shower now…does he seem okay to be away for a few minutes? Can I go to sleep, or should I stay up to watch him? Will he wake up in the morning? And every morning, from the moment my eyes open, I hold my breath until I see him take one. But, each morning he has and the past few mornings he has seemed a little bit better. Is this the ebb and flow of the cancer, or is he improving? I don’t know. I don’t know what is going on inside of his body, but I know that we have been given more moments of alertness and energy. More moments of laughter and even the occasional moment of not thinking about the word cancer.
My sister and I were talking the other day about how in the fall of 2002, Will, my sister, and I were driving back to Union University after being in Indiana for a family reunion over Labor Day. Kelli was driving, Will was in the front passenger’s seat, and I was in the back. We were headed down an Indiana highway on our way to I-65. Will, trying to get comfortable for the 8-hour drive ahead of us, unbuckled his seat belt for a moment to readjust. It was that very moment that a truck coming off of a country road pulled out right in front of us. Going about 60 miles per hour and with a full tank of gas, we slammed right into the side of that truck. Our car was totaled. Will hit the windshield so hard that there were two dents in it: one from his shoulder and the other from his head. How he didn’t fly through the windshield, or why he (or any of us) didn’t die or become seriously injured that day is a mystery.
I’ve thought about that day a lot lately. I think about how bad that wreck was and how Will probably should have died, but he didn’t. It obviously wasn’t his time on that day, in that moment. He had more life to live. That is a comforting thought for me now. It reminds me that life can not be “taken” away from us. Our days are just numbered. Does Will have more life to live this time? Well, he’s living today, and it’s been a good day, and yesterday was a good day and the day before that and I am thankful. I do still long for a day that I don’t check to see if he’s breathing, but I wonder if in this season I actually have a better grasp of the fragility of life than the days that I don’t/didn’t even think about if Will was breathing or not. I don’t know. Life is a really confusing thing these days for me. But instead of being overwhelmed by how much I don’t understand, I am trying my best to be thankful for what we have. I don’t know that I do this well, but I’m trying. Today, I will be thankful that we hugged for the first time without Will’s brace. Hearing his heart beat, feeling his chest move with each breath… these are things I will cherish all my days, and I hope I will never again take for granted.
Love, like, really really Love | girlandboystoriesApril 29, 2013
[…] It’s love because, in Angie’s words, “I just love him so much.” In one of her blogs (Living Each Day), she writes,“ Can I go to sleep, or should I stay up to watch him? Will he wake up in the […]
Nick ManninoApril 24, 2013
Angie, I learned of Will’s condition through my daughter Sophia Lyons. Wanted to encourage you that our church in Shippensburg PA. are praying for Wills complete recovery and for the Holy Spirit to not only give you hope but, to be with you and your family during these trying times ! We learn from His word that all things are possible with God who loves us ! I pray these things in Jesus name ! God Bless you and keep you! Nick Mannino
Kim JenkinsApril 19, 2013
Praying for Will, for you, and for your families. I pray for comfort, peace and healing if it be the Lords will. I know Johnny and I pray for him and Will’s mom. May God continue to bless you with sweet moments together.
Autumn and JayApril 16, 2013
Absolutely beautiful, Angie. You capture the fragility and gift of life with honesty and sincerity. Your love, faithfulness, gratitude and trust in the midst of confusion is a testimony to all believers. We are continuing to uphold you in prayer – day by day – and in our faith community. With our ongoing love and prayers, Autumn and Jay
Jeannie HerbertApril 16, 2013
We’re with you in these posts and in prayer. We love you,
Jeannie & Jerry
Autumn LoweryApril 15, 2013
MartyApril 15, 2013
as always my thaughts and prayers are with you & will as with kelli, john, and your mom & dad marty
carolApril 14, 2013
your posts are heartbreaking, humbling, inspiring, so many things. thank you for sharing so much with us and letting us walk along side you. even if you can’t see us or all the other people thinking and praying for you, know you are both loved and we are fighting along with you.
KoriApril 14, 2013
Raw emotion is submerged throughout your blog. For that I appreciate another moment here in my home with my family sleeping. YOU said something that I have read many times, but it made real sense this time. LIFe can’t be “taken” from us, it truly is numbered along with the hairs on our head. I will Thank my Maker for another moment with my loved ones and “really mean it”. Thank you! May Gods blessings be with you and Will !
Live each day as if it were your last–literally! | Suzanne SharesApril 14, 2013
[…] inspiring, honest blog post from Will’s wife, Angie and her fight to live each day well, go here. (You will be challenged and won’t regret the time it took you to read it!) If you’re a […]