Our two-year-old is obsessed with Mickey Mouse, and for last week he has been walking around the house saying, "I Mi-ee Mouse! Come clubhouse?"
If you were to ask him, "are you Mickey Mouse?" he would very earnestly look at you as if you were crazy and slowly reply, "Yeah, I MI-EE MOUSE" in a tone that would make you feel a little silly for asking.
It is wonderful, and in this current COVID-19 captivity, a little sad.
"Sad?" you may be asking. "Why sad?"
Well, you see, this week, our family was supposed to be going to Disneyland for a three-day getaway, courtesy of the Jessie Rees Foundation.
(If you are not familiar with this incredible group of people, please check out their website. They are relentless in support of childhood cancer families. A Disney getaway is just one of the extraordinary things that they do.)
It would have been amazing. Ben, our four-year-old who is fighting Lymphoma, has not been to Disney since he was two. His memories are fuzzy at best. Our two-year-old, the Mickey Mouse obsessed one, has never been. It would have been mind-blowing for both of them.
Truthfully, it would have been good for all of us—a much-needed respite from the daily grind of Ben's cancer fight. As a parent, I'm sure it would have been exhausting. I am sure there would have been challenging moments. But, I am also confident that it would have been amazing.
Unfortunately, we are not going to Disneyland this week. It does not look like we will be going there anytime soon. Even when the stay at home orders are lifted, there is a pretty big question mark looming over our family. While others may be able to take comfort in the knowledge that young people do not often contract the disease in a dangerous form, there are still too many unknowns about how a child on chemo will react. What data there is points to a need for excessive caution.
No, this is not Disneyland. And it is hard not to be a little sad.
But, you know that. We are not the only people to lose something this year.
We are Not the Only Ones
A lot of people are missing things this year. Graduations, Proms, Conferences, Camps, Performances. Right now, a lot of people are not "going to Disneyland" in one way or the other. It's hard not to be a little sad. But that's ok.
It's ok to mourn what has been lost. Pretending the loss is not there doesn't mean everything is ok. But the loss does not define us. The loss is not the whole story.
We are not dwelling on what has been lost. To do so would be to enter a dark alley that would only lead to despair. When I say, "it is ok to mourn," I am not saying that we should all wallow. Yes, it is ok to be a little sad. It is ok to be a little angry. But don't live there. Make a choice to write a different story.
Making a Choice
For us, losing Disneyland is not just about the loss. It is about saving Ben. It is about protecting the most vulnerable member of our family. Of course, it is hard. But, moving past the sad and focusing on the why makes the hardship heroic. We don't have to be victims of these circumstances. Our choice has always been to fight for Ben. Even when it is hard, this is our choice.
You have a Choice Too
You may not have a cancer kid in your family, but that does not mean your loss is without purpose. It does not mean your hurt can not be heroic.
Losing graduation is hard, but saving Grandma is heroic.
And that is what your loss is really about. Choosing to be a part of that story gives you a choice to go from victim to hero. It changes us from a generation that had things taken from us to the generation that gave things up to protect kids with cancer, our grandparents, and other people who would be lost if not for our fight.
So this is not Disneyland. It is not graduation. It is not a prom. It is not so many things. Yes, it is hard, and a little sad. We can rail against the loss, or we can rally around those who need our protection. We can be victims of the circumstances or heroes in the fight.