Playing with metaphors

Yesterday Keith and I met with his surgeon to talk about what will happen in December. Dr. Boyer was very soft-spoken, kind and clearly explained the details of the surgery and answered every question.
The surgery will require a great deal of strength on Keith's part and a fantastic amount of skill on the part of Dr. Boyer. He assured us that he has a lot of experience doing this surgery, which I believe is even more dangerous than open heart surgery. He also told us he has a high success rate. Since the mortality rate in some parts of the country are as high as 25 percent or more and his runs in the 1 to 2 percent rate, I feel like we just got lucky for a change.
Keith is still doing amazingly well, but at the same time is showing fatigue. He is so tired of the stomach tube, which he hasn't even had to use. And when the chemo pump is finally removed I think we're going to celebrate by doing something special.

We are closing in on our daughter Jennifer's wedding date. Keith's mom is finally in rehab and continuing to improve. The weather has become as beautiful as it can be (ah, to go sailing again). So life continues to "get better" as well.

Through these difficult weeks (which have been complicated by other personal matters that I can't write about here) Keith and I have been redefining our relationship as a couple and discovering that (surprise!) we have become the anchor for a very large family both younger and older than us. At some point in time we became (gasp) grownups.

Now you may laugh and think -- for goodness sake, you are a couple in your 40s (and 50s) with a large family, of course you're grownups! Yes, that's true. But until this year there was always this feeling of being kind of young and carefree. Life would always work out without much effort on our part. Before we just helped our kids because, well, they were our kids! Now they are working adults and their problems are now grownup problems and we are their anchor -- where they turn for guidance with big things that are new to them. My sister doesn't have a family of her own (unless you count three hyperactive pomeranians) so we offer her a family life whenever she feels the need for one. Keith's mom, who has helped us tremendously over the years we were raising our kids, is now in need of an anchor in her own storm of illness and trouble.

Sometimes I think we are not only the anchor, but the entire ship. Our lives are so entertwined with each other it is sometimes hard to extricate the parts that are uniquely our own.

Where is this rambling metaphor going? I just realized it myself. Keith is the ship and the anchor for this family (always has been since I met him when he was only 20 years old). The thought of him not making it through this cancer terrifies all of us . It is Keith the girls call when they need help. It is Keith I call on when I am afraid, angry, joyful, or just bored. It is Keith who calls his mother every day just so she knows that someone is looking out for her. It is Keith who knows the importance of the words "I love you" not just to his wife, but to his mother, children, and grandchildren. Even Jennifer's fiance Chris and Aimee's boyfriend Luis will come to Keith for help and guidance. Because they all know what I know -- that Keith cares about them and will help them if it is possible.

This family is a ship of love and caring. (That does not mean we never fight. That would be unrealistic. We have plenty of disagreements.) Keith has been the kind of father to his children I dreamed of growing up. He talks, he listens, he cares, he loves them -- and he tells them he loves them so there is no mistaking or having to guess his feelings. The family has grown up strong and healthy because of Keith. Bea has survived the most difficult time of her life with his steady support. Even my sister, whom I love dearly, who has a fairly low level of expectations when it comes to men, knows that Keith is a wonderful man.

We have not had a perfect marriage by any means. There have been a few times when we came close to splitting up. When a person feels unhappy about something one of the first responses seems to be to look at your partner and blame them. It's stupid, but natural. But, there has been one defining feature in our marriage and that has been our ability to talk to each other and say the things that need to be said. We listen. This "ship of fools" sails with Keith at the helm. I just raise the sails and wait for the wind to arrive. And sometimes we have to throw out the anchor and wait for the storm to pass.

Eventually, all storms do pass and the sky will be clear again.