Graduation + Grief

Well it’s been over a year since I’ve blogged here, and that’s intentional. We’ve deemed this past year a ‘recovery’ year. We know we’ll be recovering from the grief and trauma of our cancer journey for the rest of our lives, but this year was pivotal for us to battle against a lot of temptation to crawl into a hole and never come out again. This was a year for processing the loss we experienced on our journey and to strengthen our wobbly legs as we attempt to walk out a very different life than we were living before. And so we put social media on the back burner, eliminated unnecessary stress from our schedule and were really intentional about what we consumed from the outside world.

We expect more suffering on this Earth, but God has been faithful to take the ashes from this cancer journey and make them into something beautiful. One of those beautiful things has been teaching again. This year I was able to get back to teaching, not at just any preschool, but Willow’s preschool (my youngest). In September 2020 I was sicker than I’ve ever been in my life doing a stem cell transplant, but a year later I was teaching at my daughter’s school. And last week I was able to participate in Willow’s preschool graduation. Look at God.

Although our oldest went to two (different) preschools, we never had a celebratory end to either preschool year due to cancer and Covid, So we’re grateful to introduce the first official preschool graduate in our family… Willow! You’d better believe this momma will be soaking up these fleeting moments of preschool sweetness this summer.

But, as we enter this graduation season, I’m burdened for fellow cancer warriors who are forced to be in a season of celebration while their hearts are imprisioned with grief. If we’re being honest, this is the state of my heart during most seasons of celebration. Let me preface this with: I don’t want to acknowledge the state of my heart in order to squash someone else’s blissful joy. I don’t want to bring to light the heaviness of celebration for cancer warriors to make others feel guilty for celebrating, but to encourage us to hold space for the 18 million people who are feeling a bit confused about their emotions this graduation season.

You can see these sweet pictures of our preschool grad, but what you don’t see behind these pictures is that I cry at every event my kids participate in. Whether it’s major or minor, I cry both happy and sad tears. I share in these sweet moments with a joyful yet heavy heart because I’m keenly aware that not all cancer fighters get to be present for these special moments, or even the mundane ones. Behind most cancer survivor’s smiles this graduation season is joy with a dose of heaviness. We live in a ‘both and’ reality- we can experience both delight and sadness.

We mourn the loss of time with our kids that we won’t get back because of treatment and celebrate that we’re here for the present moments. We grieve the loss of fellow fighters and honor them through intentionally celebrating. We cry that they won’t be present for special moments in their own babies’ lives and delight in the fact that their legacy will live on in their children. These were the moments we wanted to be here for more than anything when our survival was undetermined, yet now that we’re here and others are not, we feel a sense of both gratitude and survivors guilt.

Friends, whether you’re a cancer survivor or not you may feel this ‘both and’ tension. And if this graduation season is both a joyful and heavy season for you, you are not alone & I am so sorry. You are not alone in your mixed emotions. It’s okay to grieve while you celebrate. We will experience it together with joy and pain. And so I propose a toast… Here’s to the grads. Here’s to celebrating our loved ones without guilt about where we’re at in our journey. Here’s to openly sharing with our safe people about how we’re really feeling this season. Here’s to not judging or being envious of those who can blissfully celebrate without the searing reminder that your loved one isn’t here to enjoy what you get to experience. Here’s to celebrating well, knowing the victory is already won and one day there won’t be heaviness with joy- only pure, unadulterated joy in our Savior’s presence.