"And we drove our stakes in the place so deep"

Last week was spring break for the Hassells. The weather was warm enough to kick the kids out of the house some. A small tease of things to come around here. The valley is quickly coming alive, the days are getting longer, flowers are starting to poke their heads through the soil and the birds are busy doing bird things outside our bedroom window early in the morning. It was even warm enough to eat lunch out on the back porch the other day. Spring here is a constant reminder of beauty. There is something intoxicating about feeling the sun on your skin in Oregon. I swear it burns brighter here.

Along with what seems like a turning point in the seasons in Oregon, we kicked off spring break with starting up hospice care for Jordan. We had a small insurance scare (all taken in stride at this point) but were able to get the intake process taken care of. So we spent the week meeting the team and having the same round of introductory conversations over and over again. Getting to know the people that will be responsible for walking alongside our family is pretty awkward. My general distrust at this point doesn't make things any easier for them I'm sure.

Jordan's symptoms have stabilized a bit in the last week or so. She is still sleeping and eating well. She doesn't have any pain. So there are things to be thankful for in this process. Our house has been filled with laughter and tears the last few weeks (usually with a seamless transition between the two). Jordan's siblings, aunt, grandfather and cousin have been in town. Visits, letters, phone calls and emails have started coming in from all over. People telling Jordan how much they love her and sharing how Jordan has had an impact on their lives. I've delegated most of the reading of letters to Jordan's mom. As I have a hard time reading them out loud without blubbering like a baby. What a privilege it has been to read these letters though. Seeing my wife through the eyes of someone else. Learning new things about the person that I know better than anyone else through small intimate details that have stuck with others.

I shared a quote about living with cancer several months ago. The quote was talking about when you have cancer it just seems like you are "giving up one damn thing after another". At the time Jordan had given up some small things. Her summer, some of her hair, her ability to walk without assistance. As we have continued this journey we have become more aware of the giving up of things.

There are times when we are fully aware of the giving up of things. With a passing thought of knowing this will be the last time for something. I remember this summer taking a small hike on a trail with Jordan to take in a sunset and thinking that it would be the last time due to her mobility.

Some things haven't been given away though. They were taken. Ripped from our hands while we fought like hell. Cancer is an unforgiving fickle bitch though and doesn't seem to mind the constant taking. In just the last few weeks we have been desperately having conversations knowing that we were giving up the ability to communicate in that way.

Sometimes things just slip through your fingertips though. You know they are coming to an end but you get too busy or too distracted to appreciate them for the last time. Last Monday during our Hospice intake the nurse recommended a hospital bed for Jordan. We both agreed that it would be a good idea. Flash forward about fifteen hours and the delivery person calls to let me know he is thirty minutes from the house. It takes Amazon Prime four days to deliver whatever random crap I order but a giant hospital bed shows up the next day from Hospice. These guys are quick.

I knew it was coming but it happened before I could steal one last moment for myself. One last deep breathe in a space and time that I would try to hold onto in my limited and terrible memory. I slept in the same incredibly awesome and wonderfully comfortable bed that was ours for the last time. Cancer doesn't even care about the comfort of a mattress.

I've realized in this last week that it wasn't the giving up of the mattress that was hard. I'll sleep anywhere and have slept in much worse places than on a twin mattress on the floor. It was what the mattress represented that was painful to give up. I've been occupying a bedroom with Jordan for almost thirteen years. We have shared that space with joy, openness and laughter in the same way we have shared the rest of our lives together. There is just something about being there together. Sharing the warmth of a space together. Sometimes out of necessity from the drafty places we have lived but most of the time from choice.

For most of our marriage, I would be the first one in the bed at night. The last ten months have changed that though. With Jordan needing rest she has been beating me into bed most nights. Leaving me up to ponder, listen and get nothing done. What typically happens is that my brain gets cranked up and it is hard for me to sleep. So when I finally get into bed I do something I've been doing for almost thirteen years. I rub my feet on Jordan's feet. It is this simple thing that means everything and nothing all at once. It slows me down and helps me slip off to sleep.

We have been doing it for as long as I can remember. Once very early on in our marriage, Jordan absolutely nailed me with a pillow when we were arguing. I remember thinking how silly it was that she was picking up a pillow during an argument. Well, it wasn't silly because she absolutely clocked me. A one hit pillow fight victory and argument stopper. After I drug myself back to bed and we lay back to back I distinctly remember Jordan extending a leg and lightly rubbing my feet with hers. It was sweeter than an olive branch. We have never been so mad at the other person that we couldn't share that simple act. I've been so angry plenty of times that I thought I would just slip out of the house after Jordan fell asleep and run off and join the circus just out of spite. Every time though as I would hover on the edge of my half of the bed thinking about if it would be harder to learn to juggle or get shot out of a canon here would come Jordan's foot. If it wasn't for that simple act I might be running around with the bearded lady right now. Jordan is pretty awesome but believe it or not she has been mad at me plenty of nights too. The foot has always saved me though!

It wasn't just a peace offering though. It was a way to let the other person know that we were home after being out on a late night adventure with friends. It was a way to say "hey babe I know you are puking, have a fever and are gross but I still love you". Rubbing our feet together was a conversation. A way to say I love you always without saying anything at all.

Appreciating the moment of sharing our own bed for the last time might have slipped past me. So I'll hold onto those foot rubbing moments instead. And I'll be damned if cancer is going to take those! Those foot rubbing moments sum Jordan and I up one hundred percent. Simple, playful, full of love and sometimes stinky.

-Brack

Obligatory #springbreak2k18 photo.

New Easter tradition! A neighborhood Easter egg hunt put on by our friends.

The boys in the neighborhood don't seem to mind the new bedroom set up.