Jump!

In 2010, Randy and I celebrated our anniversary in Kauai.  It was amazing!!  Our favorite place explored was called Kipu Falls.  I had pictures of my own, but they wouldn't download, so these are from the internet.

To get here, you walked through grasses taller than you on either side.  It opened up to this... a two story waterfall into a beautiful pool.  The locals have put up a rope swing and ladder to make the place a local hotspot.  It was amazing.  Randy knew immediately that he would jump and do the rope swing.  I was just fine watching it all and taking pictures.

However, my resolve to stay dry crumbled as I watched a seven year old child jump.  His dad was treading water in the pool below and was calling to his son to jump.  With pool-noodle tied around his tiny waist, he jumped without a moments hesitation.  Man, if that kid could do it, so could I!  I asked Randy to hold the camera and walked on Jell-O legs to the jumping spot.  I was beyond terrified.

I made it to a spot that was closer to the water below.  As I was looking over, contemplating just turning back, a local teenager started counting.  With her encouraging words, I felt my confidence grow.  "On three.  One!" I could do this.  That little boy didn't waiver.  "Two." Man, that is SO far.  I hope I don't somehow do a belly flop.  "Three." GO!  And I did!

We have all heard that even though falling only takes a couple of second, really, it feels like an eternity.  That is correct, my friend.  A terrified scream caught in my throat, not one whimper passed my lips.  As I hit the water, I was surprised by just how cold it was.  It, literally, took my breath away.  I kicked to the surface as fast as I could (I'm not a confidant swimmer) and doggy-paddled my way to the ladder.  If I thought that my legs were Jell-O before, it was nothing compared to how they felt now.  As I pushed myself up from water to rock-platform, I reveled the fact that I'd just jumped two stories!!  I had done it.

As my feet pressed into the rungs on the ladder, I remember thinking that after doing something so brave, my ascent shouldn't hurt so much.  I guess I'm just enough of a diva that I expect an elevator to make my life easier.  Almost as if I should have been rewarded for doing something so difficult.  But, as said in The Fault in Our Stars, "Life is not a wish granting machine."  Sometimes we get painful ladders when we wish for luxurious elevators.

Caden's numbers are still too low to begin Chemo.  I feel like I am at that low spot once again.  We're poised to jump in that pool for the last time.  We're tired from a journey that has brought us to this beautiful spot- our LAST Round!  We've made up our mind to jump.  I look at Caden, the boy that has jumped without hesitation, and think to myself, "If he's not nervous, why should I be?" But this jump, one where I need someone else to encourage and count, has a different kind of  counter.  Instead of one that says, "On Three," we are waiting on something that is giving us no indication.  We don't know when we'll jump- we'll actually be pushed this time.

As with the previous four Rounds, we expected his numbers to be above 500 (to go home) on June 11.  I had it all planned out that we'd be home the day after school let out for Summer Vacation and just play for a week before starting week 6 on June 20th.  That did not happen.  We got sent home last Wednesday at 380, with instructions to come back on Tuesday to begin on Wednesday.  If we were shocked to see that he hadn't changed a single bit from Monday to Wednesday, it was nothing to seeing it go from 380 to only 466 in six days.  It was a blow.  When will his ANC rise enough to begin this last Round?  With each day that passes, it pushes our time back.  Our finish date and our family-together-at-last date.  We'll make that jump, but the anticipation is hard.

I'm anxious for the day that we doggy-paddle our way back to our real life.  Who knows what our "ladder" will feel like.  I hope for smooth rungs, ones without as much traction, that will quickly take us to the open arms, and stunned/exhilerated faces of our loved ones.  Never in our lives did we ever think we'd make this jump!  And just like my real jump, I don't ever want to do it again.  Falling has felt like forever, even though, in life, it was a short time span.  I've done it once, that's enough for me.  I know that one day, we'll walk away from this beautiful experience holding strong to the ones we love, happy to have found it.  Because we are happy we did this.  We'll look back on this and marvel that we've done something so huge in our lives.  We just need to jump!

Please pray for Caden.  His body is just so tired!