Updated: Sep 23
I love choices, selection, options. You might even say that I am very pro-choice. Now before you start judging me or stop reading beyond this sentence let me clarify. This is NOT a political statement or sentiment. I very clearly and simply mean that I like having choices. I enjoy having choices. I expect to have choices. It’s the American way, after all. So when I feel like I’m cornered in my decision making, I’m not a happy camper.
I’m also pro-art. Who doesn’t love art? Art moves me. Art inspires me. And one of my absolute favorite pieces doesn’t live in a marble-floored museum, but rather in my circa 1930’s kitchen. It is a lovely painting of a woman walking down the beach. We see only the back of her, a broad rimmed woven hat on her head, a cotton dress catching the wind. She has one small girl perched on her hip, another girl holding her hand. The artist, as it turns out, holds a very special place in my heart. Her name is Carol and she’s my husband’s mother. Interesting enough, she painted this bucolic scene long before I came into Dak’s life. Then, after the birth of our daughters, she very graciously gifted it to us since she claimed it looked so much like me with our children. I suppose it was an inspired premonition of sorts. Every time this art piece catches my eye I feel comforted, elated and grateful. This was my destiny…to have two wonderful, precious, adorable, (sometimes exhausting) little girls. My dream came true. But who doesn’t fancy dreaming bigger?
The subject of motherhood naturally comes up in conversations with friends. After all, our girls are still young at just seven and four. Friends sometimes ask us if we’re done having children, or wouldn’t we want to have just one more? Dak and I usually share a quick look and laugh and say something like “Oh, these two girls are all we can handle.” But more sincerely, that option is off the table. Cancer put an end to that. I have no choice in the matter.
I am very content and satisfied with the two sweet babies we were lucky to have. But the lack of decision-making moving forward often leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I should be able to control the growth of my family. I should have a say in the matter. But cancer won this one. So I’ll just keep counting my blessings. One, two. One, two. One, two.