Twenty years ago, I was 14. I had just started high school. In fact, this time that many years ago, I had just finished the first month of my Freshmen year. It doesn’t seem like twenty years ago, it seems like it was yesterday.
In the span of twenty years though I finished that treacherous journey through high school. I went to college. I traveled all over Europe. I married the boy I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. We bought a house, sold it, and bought another one. We adopted one child, then two, then three, then four, went to Africa a few times, and adopted a few more.
In twenty years, I’ve crammed in a lifetime of, well, living. At the age of 14, if you had asked me if I would have done all this, I would have shrugged and rolled my eyes. I was 14, remember? My every sentence ended with the words, uh, like…duh. At 14, twenty years seemed like an eternity, so why not do all those things? I’d be 34…God, that’s like…old.
It’s funny how perspective changes. In one second twenty years goes by in a blink, but at the time it feels like so much longer.
Today, while talking to a fellow ‘heart mama’, I was told that as it stands right now, at this moment, with no further medical advances, our Dolly’s life expectancy is 20 years old.
Suddenly, the world shrank, and time stood still, and twenty years felt like nothing again.
Later in the day, I went to lunch with FPD and told him what was weighing on me, that the thought of losing my daughter when her life is just beginning absolutely chokes me with fear. She’ll be just starting to experience all the wonderful things that life has to offer. She’ll just be coming into her own. I told him I worry about living with the clock ticking against us like that? How do I love a little girl that is dying so quickly?
He looked at me and said “because she’ll have had twenty years longer than she would have without us.”
Of course she will, and she’ll cram a whole lot of life, and love, into those twenty years. And in those twenty years, I’ll keep fighting to find her another twenty. We’ll pray that the research, and the medical advances don’t just stop.
In twenty years, we’ll pray for a miracle.
who is ready for the next twenty. It’s time to go get me a miracle.