It’s a beautiful summer evening. The type of night Ariella would be outside riding her scooter or bike or playing with the neighbors. The type of evening we would have to argue with her when it’s time to come inside. We would be outside with our neighbors all watching our children play. Maybe (definitely) having a glass of wine or a beer. Such an ordinary night in such an ordinary neighborhood and there is nothing ordinary about it. I love watching the kids outside play but it also pierces my heart. Because my kid should be out there with them.
The other day a boy knocked on our door. He was an elementary school friend of Ariella’s, younger than her so they were not in school together this past year. Anyway, they hung out outside together a lot when the weather was nice, mostly last summer. Once school started in fall and they were inside more or at activities so they didn’t really see each other. In all honesty he probably didn’t even know she was sick. Other than her bald head which was usually covered outside she certainly didn’t look or act sick. And actually thinking back she had hair when she hung with him. So he knocked on the door the other day asking if she was home and could come out and play. I had to tell this boy, this 10ish year old boy that probably had no idea that anything is wrong that she had died. In our ordinary house in our ordinary neighborhood and shatter this boy’s ordinary existence.
We haven’t been ordinary since February 2017. But we got used to it. There was an end in sight. Our new ordinary became ordinary but that was because of Ariella. She never let cancer get in the way. Even through relapse, we could almost feel ordinary. Because she wasn’t in the hospital every other week and she was able to swim and go on vacation, dance, and go to school. Her life was interrupted and out of the norm but not like it was when she went through treatment the first time. Hell she relapsed in June and between that previous April and October we went to Disney, California twice, Ocean City, and North Carolina. So actually that’s not ordinary but that’s the kind of extraordinary we like. What I would give to just be ordinary again.
I always hated the expression the “new normal”. But that’s what we had when Ariella was diagnosed. I don’t think that changed when she relapsed, I think we were still in the same “new normal”. But this, I cannot imagine this ever being our new normal. What I would give to just be ordinary again.