When you’re fifty-five, ‘in a few years’ doesn’t seem so long. When I was two, a few years took me from walking and talking to getting dropped off at kindergarten. When I was sixteen, a few years from learning to drive led to driving myself to college. The hallowed academic years looked limitless on the front end, and ended all too soon when it came time to actually find a job and start supporting myself.
Marriage started out with so much promise and in a few years the potential was realized when the twins arrived. Then came a new season of life counting those few years for the children, and the distance between funerals for my parents and in-laws. So many moments we could hold only in memories before we realized it.
And now, even with the prospect of chemotherapy, ‘in a few years’ feels like a well worn path walked each morning, dog on a leash, faithful companion, familiar, just up around the curve in the road, over the horizon, only a few more steps to the end.