Just a Kid

Recently my Sawyer has been acting differently, it's hard to put words to it, just not himself. His cheery disposition felt like it had been shoved under a rock, he wasn't always mad, but there is a sadness in his eyes that wasn't there before. At this point I don't even know what "before" means. I mean when your papa's been sick since you were four is there a before? Either way up until this point I've felt like my kids have handled Jeremy's cancer stuff really well, for the most part you probably wouldn't even know it was a part of their lives. This recurrence is different though, call it age, call it memory, who knows but they understand more. This didn't bother me until this week. There was an afternoon this week where a "keep your chin up" anecdote led to a full thrown melt down. Honestly I'm ok with melt downs, I mean I want to every now and again how can I expect more from my kids, but this one broke my heart. Sawyer surprisingly quickly burst,  tears streaming down his face while kicking his feet the words "I hate Papa's doctor! What's wrong with them? Why can't they fix him!! They suck and I hate them! I don't want my Papa to die!" escaped through his sobs. As I tried to hide the tears now streaming down my face I finally understood his saddened face.

This boy, my baby has a weighted heart. He has been carrying this burden, this fear for too long.  With every fiber of my being I wish I could take his pain. I would carry it for the rest of my days if I could. He is eight. Hopefully not even an eighth of the way through his life, yet he is already burdened with a crushing load. I am amazed by his resilience and strength but saddened by the need for them. I'm constantly scared for his future because life can be hard for all of us, but starting with this much weight may prove too much. He's just a kid. A boy, a boy who should be running and jumping and swimming and not worrying his father won't be here tomorrow. I shouldn't need to explain what it looks like to die from cancer, he shouldn't care.

Someday this will be a gift, I tell myself that a lot. I am struggling immensely with this "gift". I can't take his pain all I can do is give him tools and hope he surpasses every hope I have for him. I have to love him more. I have to hug him more. I have to remember everyday, he's just boy. I need to give him his childhood, for it's being robbed from him faster then I can even see it going.