My husband has cancer.

When I say it —
When I write it —
When I tell it —

Feels as though my insides have displaced themselves into a form akin to a snail’s soft underbelly. Brave enough to wander beyond the hard-shelled exterior of its home. Because, because, because —

It must go somewhere? It must wander? It must need?

Where does this fact of our lives belong? Probably not on the internet. Probably not in the hands of strangers. And yet. And yet. And yet —

Here I am. Saying it, for what feels like the first time.
I write it down and send it out to you, and with that I reflect in a way I haven’t yet allowed myself, within, among, consumed by the uncertainty of reality.

The reality that does not allow me to dismiss my husband’s cancer as something minor, a cold to be cured in youth through rest and hydration. Something usually in favor and sympathetic to time.

It must go somewhere. It must wander. It must need.

Reality;
Life can never be without hardship.
Life is with grief — hand in hand.

With this, I am led to my next thought: there is no satisfaction in measuring one’s experience against another’s. I am not, and will not be, the first to point this out to you. I am recycling the words of many who have taken to pen and paper, writing and reflecting on their internal and external worlds, their meanings and reasons — their somewheres, their wanderings, their needs.

What I know about writing and reflection, what I understand about reading and listening: when the words are important, when they have enough meaning, there is no tiring of the reminders, no too many times to be told this human experience is universal.

So here is my reminder, to myself and to whoever reads this: satisfaction in life comes from making better any pain — for yourself and for others.

I find great satisfaction in identifying and stealing joy from time itself. Taking as much as I can, whenever I can. And, ironically, I have learned the same lesson from joy as I have from grief. No matter what happens—and I do mean no matter what—there is, and never will be, enough time.