That was hard

So here's the post no one wants to read.

I hate New Years.  Always have.

Kyle hates New Years.  Always has.

What a ridiculous holiday. 

Last night Kyle was pooped from a long day of
overworking on projects.  We passed up one activity
in hopes of keeping it simple and close to home.

We had Chinese dinner take out with some
good friends and talked.

Surprisingly, about cancer.  

We are going through it and they have had 
family members do the same.  The conversation
was NOT depressing, at all.  It was just
factual and matter of fact.  

At about 10 pm, our last remaining child and us
came home.  She was tired.  We were tired.
I had worked and was pooped.  

As I lay in bed I couldn't sleep.

My mind churned.  My heart ached.  The pit
in my stomach grew.

Midnight rolled around and I was still wide awake.

Kyle lay on the bed next to me, holding my hand.
Ruby the doodle sprawled between us, snoring softly.

(Yes, it was FULL ON romantic here at our house.)

I started to cry as fireworks went off and
people cheered and hugged and celebrated a New Year.

I thought to myself "Will THIS be the year my
husband dies?"  "Will it be 2014?"

Ya, it really sucked to think that.
It was like a punch in the gut.
And it hurt.
Bad.

But THIS is the reality that will one day come
crashing down on us.  

One of the years, who knows which one, one of them
will bring that terrible fate to us.

Kyle knows this and I know this.

It was an AWFUL thought.

I hardly slept the rest of the night.

Big kids came in and said goodnight.

The dog jumped off the bed to find a cool spot.

I tossed and turned.

We can't change anything.

No matter how hard we hope and wish and try.

Kyle STILL has cancer.

We don't believe in magical cures.

Terminal is not a good word.

It wasn't the best way to start off the New Year.

And this is the post no one wants to read.

But it is our life.

It is our life.

And it is real.

I shouldn't hit "publish", but I will because I
believe in keeping it real.

This is what goes through your mind when your
husband has terminal cancer on New Years Eve.

And you're right--it sucks.
It's depressing and it's negative.

But it doesn't change the facts.

And that's what I've got for today.