Is this what recovery is?

So I did a first over the last couple of days: I went back from day 1 of my blog on caringbridge and started reading it. I have tried before, and couldn't get through the first couple of entries without crying like a baby. Well, I'm proud to say, I got through about 10 of them before having to stop. It amazed me how all the emotions came flooding back and how "real" it became. I know we've been hitting this for 6 months, but sometimes I still wish it were just a dream. I hope to wake up and see lucys long beautiful hair matted to her head with whatever dinner we had the night before stuck in there. I miss the sense of innocence she had about her, which I think has been lost too soon. She went from my just turned 3 year old to way older than her body shows. She used to just talk about the "latar" as she called guitar and the "beagles" aka Beatles to saying words like "mediport, vincristine, methotrexate, procedure, and the worst one cancer". For her this is all a normal cycle and she still never complains about what she cannot do. It's summer, and I haven't heard one word or fit over swimming at state farm park. It's Zach and I who suffer the most. Not sure suffer is the right word, maybe struggle is more appropriate. We miss our old lives and feel very isolated. Oh how we would love to pack up the swagger wagon and head to the dells. Plus we feel bad for Lucy for having to miss out on things even if she isn't aware. And trying to find the balance of letting her be 3, and yet living with restrictions is tough too. So I am not sire, but I think going back and reading our first posts of our diagnosis may actually be a healing tool. Recovery. At least for me. I remember when I wrote those it was just a bunch of feeling that were floating in my head and if I wanted to sleep, I had to get them out. But as I go back, I read a lot of fear, sadness, and yet hope. Maybe next week, I can go back and look at a few more early blogs along with pictures of Lucy precancer. Those are tough too. It's funny when you look at our digital album, it goes from normal to cancer with no transition. Not that I think there is a transition period, it's just that cut off in the pictures describes how our lives changed so quickly, and so unexpectedly. So as the storm calms down, NOW is the time we are actually accepting what happened and trying to make sense of it. Everyone around us didn't have to spend 24/7 learning how to care for a leukemia patient or live life by the day, or even hour, so they have had more time to come with terms of what is going on. For Zach and I, that is just starting. But I guess starting is better than never coming at all. So here's to recovery of not only Lucy, but her family and their broken emotional state as well.