I blogged throughout John’s entire cancer journey, right up until the day he died. I shared the facts and the ups and downs of living with a terminal illness. I shared my own thoughts and feelings and the changes I was experiencing because of our journey. And because of the power of our love, the blog became a love story that people resonated with.
I loved our life. I loved that every day felt like a new adventure with him. I loved the way he made me look forward to every day. I loved road trips and driving and being on the water in our boat. I loved time with our family and friends. I loved laughing pretty much every single day until the day he died with him. I loved him, so much.
Yesterday I met with a grief counselor at hospice and was telling her about the Love Trumps Cancer blog and what that meant to us, that as long as we focused on love cancer couldn’t win. And she said something that really made sense but that I haven’t thought of before. She said she believes that the grieving process is a love story in and of itself, that the more deeply you love someone, the more profoundly you feel their loss when you lose them. The love I felt for John informs the sometimes all-consuming grief I’m feeling now. I couldn’t have one without the other.
I spoke at John’s memorial and the last thing I said was if, on that first day I fell in love with him almost 7 years ago, he’d told me that we’d only get 6 1/2 years, I would have jumped in head first with just as much enthusiasm and abandon as I did without that knowledge. If I hadn’t loved him so much, I wouldn’t be such a mess right now. There’s something about that realization, about thinking of this process as a continuation of our love story, that helps so much. #lovetrumpscancer #livelikejohnny