On Saturday night, my middle son and I went out for dinner. Just the two of us. It’s a tradition I started a few years ago with my oldest son. When each boy becomes taller than I am, I take him out for a special dinner.
We talk about things like how a gentleman should open the door for a lady. We review concepts such as the proper use of a napkin and how it’s usually a good idea to chew with your mouth closed. We discuss how it’s not the best of manners to lick your fingers in a nice restaurant, even if you are eating really good coconut prawns dipped in pineapple sauce.
But mostly this special dinner is all about fun. It’s about celebrating the life of a child who is growing up. It’s about letting him know how proud I am of him as he makes the transition from child to adult.
As I watched my lighthearted, easy-going son enjoy his dinner, I thanked God for the privilege of being this child’s mother. And my thoughts drifted. I wondered what life would be like for him now if I had not survived cancer. How would his life have been affected by the death of his mother? Would my husband have remarried by now? Would the new step-mother ever be able to love my children as I have loved them?
Again, I am reminded that life after cancer is a gift.
The child I once held in my arms now outweighs me. The little boy who at one time reached up to hold my hand is now taller than I am.
Being a part of his life still brings me the greatest of joy.
A New Shade of Pink 
Jill. We have never met. Probably never will. But I know your heart. And you know mine. I pray your children will not have to learn to live without you until they are very old, and you my friend, are ancient. And I’ll be right there with you, still writing our blogs when we are 100, and this cancer thing will be a faint memory. Amen. love u. wgd