Teamwork

Being a part of family means being a part of a team.

I have to admit that last night was a black night
in our house.  The kind of night without stars.
Black and deep and cold and lonely.  Aching
and hard and full of heartbreak.

I can't explain always why or how a bad night hits...
but sometimes it comes with a ferocity that can't be
stopped with the force of a freight train flying
though the night into our lives, barreling down
the road right for our front door and then crashing in.

There is no stopping it once it has taken motion.
There is no stopping the force of emotion that
comes with it.

There were lots of tears and a good amount of weeping.

It involved Grace sitting on my lap and holding my
hand and lots of hugging and reassuring and listening.

We are a team, and when one man goes down, we have
to rally.  Sometimes more than one of us goes down.

Then we rally a little harder, and longer.
It also requires more Kleenex, and lots of
sniffling. 

Sometimes cancer takes a flying punch right at our
face and no matter how fast we duck it seems to land
square on our nose with a ferocity that takes our
breath away.

Cancer and life and circumstances have come
fast and hard at our family this year.  There are
days I wonder how we, any of us, are still 
standing.  There are days when I want to run
away as far as I can and never look back.  There
are days when I think I cannot make it through
one more minute without cracking in two.  There
are days when I wonder why we are fighting so 
hard.  There are days....

Kyle has said that of ALL THE THINGS he has been
"impressed with" (call it what you will...spiritually,
mentally, emotionally, in his heart and soul and 
mind)...but of ALL THE THINGS he tells me HE KNOWS
when we spend late nights talking and talking
and yes, occasionally still crying, he feels so
very strongly that someday when he's gone that his 
children will "fill in" the little pieces of him
to carry me through.

He feels so strongly that each one of them...

Josh

and 

Grace

and 

Eliza

and 

Olivia

will pick up a different part of who he is
and hold my hand and lift my spirits and love me
and hold me and hug me and comfort me and
be with me and guide me and tell me and be
on my team.

Our team.

The team of the Kyle Nielsons.

I see little glimpses of it happening already.
I take comfort in the things I see my children
doing. I see them stepping up to big shoes 
and starting to fill them with enormous hearts
and souls stretched beyond their years.

I hate it that they have to do it, yet
I love that they do it so tenderly and 
kindly and lovingly.

Alone we can do so little, together we can
do so much...(Helen Keller).

This is how I feel the fight against cancer
has been.  With Team Kyle.

That team includes us, family, friends, and
strangers who step in to fill so many parts
and pieces that we cannot do alone.

But some days, no matter how many people
are stepping in...for us in the middle of 
the fray, the fight, the battle of a lifetime,
it still overwhelms and we crumble just a little
and fall.

I swore last night I was done for.
I quit.  There was no way I could do another
day.  Of work. Of school. Of cancer. Of
hard kids at work.  Of interviewing and job
searching.  Of smiling and nodding.  Of
trying to stay positive and wait for news.

I was convinced I was finished.

And last night?  

I was.

We were. 

Team Kyle was down and out.

I promised I was going to stay in bed all
day today and cry and not go to work, and get
feces wiped on me and get bitten and do 
homework and look for more jobs and do 
everything that feels so hard and never ends.

Never ends.

Never.

ends.

But (damn it!) because I know myself so well,
I knew that once I had emotionally vomited and
purged all over everyone and everything and 
been held by the ones who love me the most,
when I am the least love able, that I would rise
once again...somehow, someway.

And I did.

We all did.

It was a new day.

Team Kyle, somehow, someway pulled together,
regrouped, and started another day.

We got out of bed, I had extremely puffy swollen
eyes.  I took a shower.  I got ready for work
and I went.  The kids got up for school and went.

And I went to a job interview and I came 
home and did homework for 3 hours.  The kids
and Kyle cooked pancakes for dinner.  The
girls cleaned the kitchen.  Music played.
We laughed. The dog stole bacon off of the
counter.  Life, crazily and oddly enough,
went on.

And I'm still here.

And my family is still here.

And we're still a team.

And I've met MORE new people and had more 
people stepping in to help and lift and support.

Cancer?  

It takes teamwork.  

Even when the chips are down, and by george,
they DO go down...we can count on our team.

My sister texted this morning and said,
"Is it 'Good morning?' or is it just 'Morning?'"

It answered it was... 'just morning'.

But we were still here and ready to 
fight for another day.

Teamwork.

Go Team Kyle.

Today that's what I've got.

Thanks to everyone, everyone, who's on our team.

Once again, we couldn't do it without you.

We love the idea of people rallying around
us to help us fight.  We love that you're
still here to help us through.

Thank you, we couldn't do it without...

Well, Teamwork.