The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
Realizing some might not know her name, I quickly said, “Her
name is Jai…”
“Happy birthday, dear Jai…”
It was so wonderful. Even people in the nearby overflow room,
watching the lecture on a video screen, were singing.
As we all sang, I finally allowed myself to look at Jai. She sat in
her front-row seat, wiping away tears with this surprised smile on her
face, looking so lovely—bashful and beautiful, pleased and
overwhelmed….
There are so many things Jai and I are discussing as we work to come to
terms with what her life will be like after I’m gone. “Lucky” is a strange
word to use to describe my situation, but a part of me does feel fortunate
that I didn’t get hit by the proverbial bus. Cancer has given me the time
to have these vital conversations with Jai that wouldn’t be possible if my
fate were a heart attack or a car accident.
What are we talking about?
For starters, we both try to remember that some of the best
caregiving advice we’ve ever heard comes from flight attendants: “Put on
your own oxygen mask before assisting others.” Jai is such a giver that she
often forgets to take care of herself. When we become physically or
emotionally run down, we can’t help anybody else, least of all small
children. So there’s nothing weak or selfish about taking some fraction of
your day to be alone, recharging your batteries. In my experience as a
parent, I’ve found it hard to recharge in the presence of small children.
Jai knows that she’ll have to give herself permission to make herself a
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