Being Here Now, With Jay
by muddy feet mama
We began our romantic weekend getaway with what few would think romantic. We talked about Jay’s death. Then we threw a few things together and got the hell out of Dodge. No kids for 4 days – we needed some peace.
The Waterfront Hotel in Jack London Square (Oakland, CA) has become our favorite “stay-cation” destination. 3 years ago we landed here in a desperate need for quiet during the window between his first round of chemo and his colostomy surgery. He was recovered well enough that we actually enjoyed the luxury of forgetting about cancer. We stayed indoors until evening, wandered around noshing and drinking at the few restaurants still in business, then retreated back to the room. We had sex, watched bad TV, took afternoon naps, spent hours in content silence… 3 days and 2 nights of that is our idea of a great vacation. 45 minutes from our home and a world away.
This is our third time here, which makes it a tradition. We are enjoying the time before he heads back into chemo – his final course of treatment. As he says, we’re not fighting for his life anymore, we’re fighting for time. You would think that’d make our time here feel different than the other times, but it doesn’t really. There is something about being together at this place, in a quiet room, nowhere to go, that brings us simply to the here-and-now. We are a blissfully happy couple in a cocoon.
Of course thoughts of the future seize us every now and then. Jay can feel the tumors growing inside of him. His cancer is on the move. It takes work to discuss what we’ll prepare for Thanksgiving dinner this year (foodies do that kind of thing in July) because cancer has made things that tenuous. The unknown is heavy as hell. But we always come back – this time in room 222 – and steep ourselves in how blessed we feel to have found each other. Being here now is a fine place to be.
As I have mentioned in previous posts, I have made big changes to my life to accommodate our family’s priorities. I mean to be by Jay’s side for every chemo treatment, every doctor’s appointment. I mean to pick up our kids from school, help them with their anxiety and their homework. As I told Jay in our pre-getaway death talk, he will never be alone. I will be there right up to the end, and then I’ll still be there. We are cramming a lifetime together into 5 years. We could waste our energy angry at how unfair that is or we could chill out and revel in what we have now. Somehow being at the Waterfront Hotel helps us with the later.
That’s it for now. Thanks for stopping by.