Would I give up a child to have my husband back? No. Would Scott give up a child to come back? No.
Would I want my husband back if he was going to live in extreme pain for the rest of his life? No. Would I wish for the cancer to take control of our lives again? No.
Honestly, I would love another day, or year, or another lifetime with Scott, but I wouldn’t do anything for it.
I wish that our lives were never disrupted or damaged by this illness. I wish I could take our family’s pain away. I wish that 2012 and 2013 would have looked much differently than they did. I can wish all day, night and into the evening, but those things won’t come true.
Last spring, I bought a townhouse in a neighborhood Scott really wanted us to live in before his illness. The house I bought was meant to be ours and I couldn’t live in the other place one more day without him. It was too hard.
A few days before closing, I ended up at the bank, finishing up last-minute house-buying business, when this conversation happened, and has been running around inside of my head since.
“Oh, you’re buying a house? What’s it like?” an excited teller asked, with a manager helping her with my transaction.
“Well, it’s a newish townhouse, double car garage, two floors, four bedrooms, three bathrooms. I’m excited to finally have my own bathroom. I’ve never had that before,” I told them.
“Oh! Your own bathroom! That is so awesome!” the manager exclaimed, a little too loudly.
“Yeah. It’ll be nice, I think.”
“You are SO LUCKY! I’d do anything for my own bathroom! I have to share with my husband AND son. Sharing a bathroom with males can be so gross!” the manager went on and on about this.
“Yep. I’ve shared a bathroom my whole life, and now I don’t have to anymore,” I replied, smiled, and tried to pretend that she didn’t just unknowingly say the dumbest thing on the planet to me.
I wanted to tell her how lucky she is to share her bathroom. I wanted her to know that in my wildest dreams, I’d be sharing my bathroom with my husband, the way it was meant to be. I wanted her to realize that I bet she wouldn’t actually do anything to have her own room, bathroom and space in a house that would only belong to her. I wanted to say so many things in that moment, but instead I said nothing, as usual.
I’d do anything is a phrase we often say, but honestly, do we really mean it? I know that I certainly don’t.