Sixteen years ago two things happened. There was an attack on American soil that shifted our thoughts about ourselves and our country once again. It happens every half century or so, and this is the one of my generation, the post World War generation which had up until then really not had that personal an attack on our country, right in our very own yard.
The second was that my youngest son finished chemotherapy. The lessons I learned stemming from that day are deep and wide. The short story is that there really isn't much joy in the end of chemotherapy because it is the beginning of the waiting and worrying about recurrence part of recovering from illness. With many cancers, my son's and mine included, you really only get one chance at cure. So while there are numerous instances where chemotherapy just doesn't work from the get go, the waiting and the months and years to come are something to learn to cope with. It is hard and important, because if you live like you are going to recur, then you are not fully enjoying the time that you have. That is just plain wasteful. Not to mention that it does no one any good. However, it is hard to accomplish. So every year, on this important anniversary, I reflect on doing what is hard and why it is important to try to do it right.
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