The death of my life should have arrived, statistically, by now. Bea as well. We seem to be benefit each other unbelievably. And the husbands need each other: good men, balancing work, younger children and cranky women with Glioblastoma. Ugh.
Bea called me and invited us on board a houseboat in Lake Shasta. No pressure, no demands. Just ease. Steve and Paco needed to go. And while Steve and I did not click, we both knew it did not matter. Steve got to chat with Bea’s spouse and Bea and I got to just swim. With Paco, I had a great excuse to stay in the water for two hours this morning.
It was so…liberating.
Bea and I can share things to each other and to no one else. She is a bit younger. But only by a couple of years. She jumped in the water from atop the houseboat, then asked me to join her. Paco was already out there in a vest and a small raft, but he just found his spicy soul in the water. Then Lemon wanted to follow Paco and jumped into the water, and was happy to be in the raft. For ten, beautiful, minutes, we were all strong and together. It was one of the best moments we have ever had. To me, this is a solid family.
I am not complaining. With Bea, she figured she was feeling better than I (she has been off for about six months). And she took on most of the domestic duty. And she took on most of the parenting duty. I felt so spoiled.
We can be who we need to be. The more I think about it, anyone with any type of cancer must go through times of side effects. Or simple fear. I had not told Bea about returning to Chemo yet. Then I did. She was mad and loving in a breath. She found her strength and just kept sending me to nap, or did I need food? She was there for anything.
Bea and Paco jumped into the water by 9AM this morning. I had to join them quickly. And for 2 plus hours, we just swam around. Bea got in and out. Paco a few times. I stayed put. I have not been in a water area for that long in years. We were in a cove. We all took care of each other. We were happy.