Of late, I find that I am able to have positive memories of Henry. This is a change.
Up till now, virtually all of my memories of him were laced with Cancer. When he was younger, did he have it then? Remembering the time around his diagnosis. Remembering the chemo, the treatments, the vomiting, holding him down to give his meds. Terrified of relapse. And then, the agony of simultaneously treasuring every minute while watching his death bear down on him like a freight train. Unable to fight, unable to run, even unable to scream because it would scare him and make things worse.
Cancer infiltrated his body, his life, our family, my being his mom.
I have hoped for good memories of him. It's been hard. There was so much pain. But a few are beginning to peek through.
I can remember how soft his cheeks were to kiss, without remembering that he was bald from chemo when I kissed them then.
I can remember his voice as he made one of his quirky comments without seeing the steroids all over his body.
I can remember his pleasure with a toy without focusing on the fact that he played with it because he was so limited otherwise.
My memories remain laced with grief. They make me miss him more. But I'm really glad that the cancer is finally letting go of him, if only in my head.