Outside the window, the airplane wing separates a starry sky and the outlines of rigid mountains that are lit by a stunning green aurora borealis. This sight is one thing that makes a redeye flight to and from Alaska tolerable and even worth staying awake for – at lest for a little bit. Though I’m utterly exhausted, sad to leave and nervous about what awaits me in Wisconsin, this is the first moment of this trip where I felt like I am where I need to be.
In between and after meetings (what brought me up this week in the first place), I was showered by love and support – literally (if the falling snow counts, and I think it should). People I love, people I know, people I barely know and also complete strangers stopped me to say they are rooting for Sam and genuinely miss his presence in the community. As I traveled around town, I learned even more about what makes this community so special. As the twinkling lights of our home move farther and farther in the distance, I recount the whirlwind, sleep-deprived past three days. After a busy workweek wrapped up on Friday, I sat in a hot tub with two dear friends at a cabin nestled in the mountains. As the snow fell on our faces and piled on the branches of pine trees all around us, we talked about life and drank whiskey. Later, other friends joined us and danced to Hot Dish at the Bluegrass Ball. Today, I literally shrieked with joy as I glided down wintery trails on skis for the first time this season. I sat on best friends' couches and laughed, I reconnected, and received dozens of hugs. In every moment of happiness though, I felt persistently sad. Like a lingering ache, Sam's presence is missed by so many, but his physical distance and diminished spirits chip away at a piece of my soul lately even in the most peaceful or enriching or enjoyable moments, especially on this trip. Even though I’m headed hundreds of miles an hour away from the place I want to be, I know I’m headed back to Sam and back to where I need to be right now, and it feels so right for the first time since I left Wisconsin on Wednesday. While Sam’s blood counts thus far remain promising, the rest of his body is riddled with challenges that we don’t expect will affect his prognosis, but that make life these days just as intolerable as some of the longest within the confines of hospital walls. It was incredibly hard admitting that fact this week to our crowd of supporters who just want to share in good news with us. Sitting here on the plane, I can’t help but picture how I know this week went for Sam. From the couch at home, I know he stared into the eyes of a dog he cannot yet walk, a fridge full of food he cannot eat, a calendar he cannot fill, and calls he probably will not return because of the disappointment that comes on the other line when he says he isn’t doing as well as ‘remission’ sounds. Sitting here in the darkness of the airplane-space void, the thought of it makes me cry. We are all so ready to celebrate and welcome Sam back to the world and it is so hard to give him the time he needs to get there. Especially for himself. ---- Sam felt well enough to pick me up from the airport today in Madison, which I was so excited about. While my brain was full of new memories made, events I wanted to tell him about, and a wonderful friend I made on the last leg of the trip home, I could immediately see in his eyes that this car ride, and today, and likely this week aren’t going to go that way. He doesn’t have new stories and fulfilling interactions to share, and it hurts. He’s struggling, beaten down, emaciated and scared. In Anchorage, we hike, fish, ski, camp, dance and drink. We work hard, and care deeply about the place that provides so much more for us than just where we call home. Through the darkness we endure each winter together, as a community, we find ways to grow. We knew this before Sam got sick and wow, are we learning about it now. I'm so grateful for a community that will listen and reach out. I am grateful they tell me it is ok to talk about hard things. I am so grateful that I got to visit, and laugh, and ski, and be enriched by the beauty of the mountains. But coming back to this reality is hard and, unlike Sam, I got to have a break from it and that is so unfair. I am so happy to know this is only our reality temporarily and Anchorage waits for us on the other side. I can't wait for Sam to get a taste of what I had this week and I know it will be so much sweeter when he does. He is resting next to me now as I finish writing this and despite the last three days, with him right here I know that I am home.
Beverly Mangerson
12/14/2015 05:53:52 am
So happy that you were able to get away for awhile. I'm sure it was much needed. You're back now and again with the person who means the most to you. Hoping for a merry Christmas to all of you. Hug Sam for me and let him know he is constantly on our minds. xo
Jenny
12/16/2015 08:23:35 am
Thank you, Bev. I will.
Liz
12/14/2015 09:46:23 am
You BOTH are SO missed up here -- but know that we will all wait patiently for as long as it takes until you guys come back. Until then, we'll continue to send love and encouragement from afar. I'm glad you had a good time during your visit -- but even more happy that you are back with whom you belong. Hang tough, you guys. xoxoxo
Jenny
12/16/2015 08:24:00 am
XOXO right back. Comments are closed.
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