It's Kansas City time again. It's been about four months this time, and this week I go back to the big city for my cancer check-up. In the memoir I write this about my first trip there:
As we neared the city I flinched at the sight of every brick building on either side of me, certain that was probably the one. The terrible cancer building that was full of sick and dying people and the machines and needles and the shelves of medicine that would try to keep us alive. I wanted to turn the car around. I wanted to run. Whatever answers they had for me could not be better than not knowing. And not knowing was by itself awfully bad.
The trips there did not get much easier. In my journal later I wrote this:
Every trip to and from Kansas City to doctors we drive by Worlds of Fun, and I always so wish we were just going there. Life right now is such an unpredictable thing. I'm up, I'm down, I'm brave, I'm terrified. This doctor comforts me, that one scares me to pieces . . . . I do feel less scared of chemo now. But more scared of death. I don't want this. I want to live. And I want this baby. I want to live to see all my babies grow up. Please let that be my story. I promise to be grateful.
It's been close to three years since I wrote those. This weekend the boys are on spring break, and they are so excited about our weekend trip to Kansas City they can hardly sit through supper each night without squealing. My work day went smoothly on Sunday, and I called out to Michael, "It went fast today, I wonder what's different." Drew, though, is the one who answered from his perch on the couch in the living room, "It's probably because we're going to Kansas City this weekend, and you're so excited!" They are so ecstatic that I began to worry they had bigger plans for the trip than we did. So I asked them what it was they were expecting. "Well," John answered, "Swimming in the hotel pool . . . and don't they have some good restaurants there?"
So I think we're good. They don't yet know what the big water tower means with the Worlds of Fun logo on it. Just give 'em a hotel swimming pool and a meal or two.
I think the 2005 Serenity would be really happy if she could see this week.
6 comments:
I think you are right about the 2005 Serenity. I think she'd be thrilled to her toes to see you today, I know I am.
Thanks for laughter through tears this morning. I'm with Dolly, it's one of my favorite emotions.
I like this, both because you are still here and because I loved hotels and pools when I was young. It also made me ask if my 2005 self would be glad to see me now, and I'm pretty sure he would. It helps, because some days now don't seem so great but putting it terms of 3 years ago helps me put things in perspective. Thanks for the inspiration.
We get no TV channels at home, so Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon and a heated pool are pretty close to paradise for our kids too!
Oh, and Samantha told me the other day here favorite memory from visiting the zoo in "the city" was having Dippin' Dots. If I'd have know that, I could have saved six hours of driving, a hundred dollars of gas, and gotten the Dippin' Dots somewhere for a lot less than what the zoo charges (which was just slightly less than what I paid for my car). Kids are so funny.
Mmm...Cheesecake Factory.
I love the child-like wonder of being happy with small, simple things. My kids have done some serious traveling with us but they're still happy with a St. Louis or Columbia, MO hotel room and a simple swimming pool. And a restaurant...
Pam S.
Post a Comment