The cancer club may be the first club I've ever really belonged to. Back in 5th grade, my classmates and I would form clubs, but they were more about excluding the kids we hated than they were about loving each other. Most of the time, I'm introspective and socially awkward (ie. Terrified of people and their possible rejection). I'm not a joiner. My shy kids are not joiners.
But here we are, in a club so tightly wound around the lives of the other members, so intimately familiar with each other's most painful thoughts and experiences, that we are committed to a lifelong membership.
We are the Cancer Club. Specifically, it's the My Child Has/Had Cancer Club. I like to believe we're an elite breed, specifically chosen for our strength, resilience, and grace under pressure...Though we often feel clumsy and weak and sad...But we're good at propping each other up during those dark moments, and collectively, we stand strong as the oak in the meadow you visit every Spring...year, after year, after year...
Just like that, we will be here in the club, fighting for our kids, fighting for each other's kids, fighting for kids that don't know yet that they're headed our way. In more ways than we're cursed, we've been blessed. We've seen the worst work the devil can perform on little bodies and the brightest lights of heaven shine through our children, those who help us, and through each other.
While I would jump at the chance to throw my membership key out the window if it could erase Nick's cancer, I would miss the tender club friends I would leave behind, fighting on for their kids and each other....
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