Over the last 6,5 years, we have learned to be on the receiving end. Friends and family have gone out of their way to support us and Jacob in any way possible. Even in times when Jacob is at home and medically stable, we get constantly reminded of you all cheering for our son Jacob. It is a colleague sending me an article about healthcare, it is a dear friend making a peach cobbler, it is a neighbor mowing our lawn, it is a sister checking in to see how kindergarten is going for our Jacob, and the list goes on and on.
A friend who lives in New Zealand emailed me a reflection on what a long way Jacob has come with all the love and positive support around the world. It is true. It make an enormous difference when you know you're not alone when you're fighting against a disease that you know you can't conquer. In the end, you can't win. And when that realization sinks in, there is only one place to live, and that is in the day. And if you can fill that day with family and friends, I can't think about a better way to live life.
A little bit over a month ago, a dear friend of mine told me that her Baby Jack had a mass in his leg. It went from a mass in the leg to waiting for the biopsy results to removing the tumor to a high grade tumor with a 20% chance of survival. Grim news for Baby Jack who is only 6 months old.
We haven't met Jack yet, but we so feel we know him. We know Jack's parents and his three beautiful sisters very well, and through their lives we feel we know their son and baby brother. This family was our life line when they lived in Colorado, and continues to be part of our lives. I can't even count the times Jacquelyn had Sarah while we were camping at Children's Colorado. She always opened her house to Sarah and us. Jacquelyn took care of Baby Jacob when he was little. I remember sitting on her floor giving her instructions on how to take care of Jacob while I had to go on a business trip to Madrid. I remember calling Jacquelyn after the worst care conference I have ever had for Jacob with a pounding headache telling her the news. I remember Jacquelyn calling me in Norway when Jacob was in the hospital with grand mal seizures to let me know he was ok and so was the rest of my family. When I thought the seizures would take Jacob's life in 2010, she was the first one I openly told the big awful words to. And when we were told to get Sarah out of the ER, since the docs were not sure Jacob would make it that June Monday in 2009, Joakim called Jacquelyn. The Dwyers are our life line. This is the family who made it look so easy to help a family like ours.
And now I am on the other side. It feels unusual. It is unknown territory. I am thinking about what has been the best support for us, and thinking how I can give back. I have also realized how helpless you can feel "on the other side". How little I feel as a human being in the fight against cancer.
So for all of you who are cheering and supporting our Jacob, please take a moment and dedicate it to Baby Jack. The one thing I have learned is that hope is the last thing that gives. I have learned that noone can predict the future, and I do believe in miracles.
If you want to follow Jack on caringbridge, here is a link to his page:
To Baby Jack,