My oldest scrolled through my phone early this morning and then demanded to know what was going on. He read a couple texts from the two friends who know about my CLL. So the announcement was made to the 16, 14 and 12 year old.
Outwardly, the 16-year old is taking it the worst. My youngest listened as I talked with a worried expression, but as soon as I said I should be alive for at LEAST 10 years, he was all relieved and ran off to play with friends. My 14-year old spent a lot of time with me today, but we didn’t talk about it again. And my oldest couldn’t get it out of his head. His thoughts included “You’ll be dead in 10 years.” “You’ll never meet my kids.” “What’s the point of anything now that I know you’re not going to be here.”
Sad things. Deep things. Things you don’t want to have to tell your children and thoughts you don’t want to burden them with. Children are born into this world assuming that their protectors will always be there. My children are learning too soon, that I may not be.
With my children knowing, my friends will start to learn. It’s not like I’m trying to hide it. Keep some secret. Be a martyr. I just don’t want to be a topic. I don’t want people to worry about me. I don’t want people doing WebMD research about my condition.
Sadly, my oldest also said that he doesn’t want to be “that kid” whose mom is dying. I know what he means. I don’t want to be her either.