I just haven’t been up to thinking about indulgences lately. When your vocabulary starts to include words like: tumor, cancer, intensive care, home nursing, and multiple surgeries (for a family member, not personally) everything else seems to take a back seat while you figure out the big stuff. Add that to some personal health concerns and you get one really unmotivated blogger. I just had to focus on living for a minute–anything else was just too much.

Still, sometimes you find inspiration in the oddest places. Like the family member who was diagnosed with a brain tumor, cancer, and lost their voice box in a very short time frame. Where I think I’d be a wreck, he’s handling things with grace and humor that was unusual before the illness. There’s more laughter and joking–everything isn’t all serious all the time, even though life is serious. All of a sudden the nights spent at home, doing nothing but being at home don’t seem to be the binding chains they once were. They are an opportunity to connect with loved ones and spend time on the little things.

Right now, my children are bouncing on my bed–something that is normally forbidden. They are making pillow caves and testing out their cannonball. They are laughing their little heads off. A few feet away I’m thinking about my dad and the journey he’s on and how that seems to make a little bed jumping not such a big deal right now. Their happiness is a reminder that life doesn’t stop when someone you love gets sick–it keeps on going and it’s really up to you to make the best of it.

Tonight they’ll jump on the bed and have cookies before dinner. They’ll share their joy with the rest of us. Tomorrow when I go to the hospital to visit my dad, I’ll bring a picture of the kids bouncing on the pillows, laughing their heads off–just enjoying life. They seem to know something I do not–the really important moments are *right now*, not yesterday, not tomorrow–one is past and the other is not certain. But right now, now is the time to choose to live.