I Wish You Enough

These last two months have brought so many highs and lows into my life. We've celebrated many milestones and accomplishments. Brandon continues to defy the odds. Christopher celebrated his 1st birthday. Nathan learned to write in cursive. Alyssa continues to add new words to her repertoire. Isaac has immersed himself in reading and writing, something that is such a challenge for him. Anita is turning into a beautiful young lady and making great strides in overcoming many of her challenges. We've also been devastated with news that cancer not only returned for me, but it continues it's assault on our family with my dear "Best Aunt Jeane."

Through it all, God has continued to bless me with wonderful people ... friends, family and even strangers ... people who are there to hold my family up when things seem to be too much to bear. My "neighborhood" continues to grow (see my blog entry from last year www.thebackyardgang.blogspot.com/2008/05/people-in-my-neighborhood.html ). I've been inspired by the women who are my chemo buddies. We share war stories as our bodies are pumped full of nasty concoctions (we like to call them "cocktails") with ugly names like Doxirubicin, Cisplatin and Taxol. But what I've really enjoyed is talking about our lives without cancer. In the last two months I've met an 80 year-old woman who looks 40 and is such an inspiration. I've met a woman who also has a child with autism who is now 27. She homeschooled both of her boys after 4th grade years ago when homeschooling was considered "weird". I even met a relative "by marriage" of one of my own children! In the end it's not the cancer that ties us together, it's our families, our beliefs and more often than not, our faith that keeps us chatting for hours on end. Science claims that most of us will not be here in 5 years. I pray constantly for my new friends ... I pray that the life God has given them, no matter it be just another month or 50 more years, is full of love, happiness and joy.

When I got home from my chemo treatment today I had a lovely email from a good friend, Sandra. I thought I'd share it with you. I've cut and pasted the copyrighted version below. It's long, but definitely worth the read (especially if you've stuck with this rambling post up until this point!!!!)


"I wish you enough!"©
By Bob Perks

I never really thought that I'd spend as much time in airports as I do. I don't know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I'm not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.
I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to "hello" and "goodbye."I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, "How are you today?" I replied, "I am missing my wife already and I haven't even said goodbye."


She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, "How long will you...Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!" We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, "I love you. I wish you enough." She in turn said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy."

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?"

"Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man experiencing.

"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?" I asked.

"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral," he said.

"When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"

He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more."When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory.

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye."

He then began to sob and walked away.

My friends, I wish you enough!
by
Bob Perks



I Wish You Enough,
Kathy