Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I hate cancer. Many days to look at me you would never know my world is entirely falling apart. My children are fed, their teeth are brushed, every day they sport clean clothes. My house actually even looks respectable. I know that I will soon be a widow. I can tell myself that Sean is looking forward to seeing his Father. I can raise that mantel and say, "I am strong, God is seeing me through. I will see him one day again and this separation will only be for a while." I am woman hear me roar nonsense. But, there are days like today when I feel like the sadness and the despair are crouching in the corner and it punches me in the face every once in a while.

Like when I was driving and I just started to cry. I was just watching TV and I started to cry. And he just hugged me on his way back to bed and I realized that my face belongs no where else but in the crook of his neck. How we just fit together. And then I started to cry.

He has his hospital bed and I no longer sleep with my husband. I used to love to listen to him breathe. The sound would comfort me so much. Like it had its own melody kind of. I didn't realize how much I loved it..Now, I will have to be content to listen for it from a distance. I hate that hospital bed. And what I hate even more is that it will give him comfort and peace and sleeping with me in our bed will not.

I am going to miss him so much and when I realize how much it literally takes my breath away.

Did I mention that I hate cancer?

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Yesterday in the course of a really busy day and feeling stressed as I was driving through the depths of Boston, John said to me in this really quiet voice, "Mama, I would do anything for Hunter."

Tonight my husband looked, quite honestly, terrible. He looks like a shell of his former self. He looks thing.
I said to him, "You are my one true love." He whispered to me, "You are my one true love."

Those are the things that are keeping me going. If I didn't have that absolute assurance that the four of us love each other I think I would completely go out of my mind. I feel like I walk around my house and everything is crumbling. My life is blown to bits and will NEVER be the same again. And I find that when Sean is home and there isn't much to do for him or much I can do for him, that is when I feel the worst. That's when that reality sets in for me. When he's in the hospital I am busy arranging childcare, preparing for my next visit, and worrying about him. But, then he comes home and I'm not so busy anymore. Tonight is one of those times. I feel like I can't really take a deep breath. Like I can't sit still.

Thursday, November 11, 2010


This whole process has been overwhelming to me. Three days ago I didn't have any heat or hot water downstairs. I was beyond, beyond. It just felt like one more thing for me to deal with and I had no one to lean on, not in the way you can lean on a husband. Everybody is somebody else's husband. But, I had come to the point that if people are going to offer and look me deep in the eyes and say, "If you need anything, call us" then I am going to take you up on that. My neighbor was home. Matt is his name. We exchange pleasantries at the end of the driveway but that's it. Thank God it's nearing winter and he's a commercial fisherman. Well, I called him and cried. There is no more pride left. There is no more pretense. The exact moment that I called him, he was on the phone with his brother who is a plumber. I left him a message and literally within four minutes he was here. And you know that funniest thing? I desperately needed a hug. And I needed to feel someone strong hug me. He walked in my door and hugged me. I had told his wife about Sean and he expressed his sorrow over Sean's condition.

He lost his Dad last summer and he is still feeling the effects of it. It is amazing how much the Lord is carrying me through and how lost I imagine the world feels when they are dealing with death. My neighbor is struggling to the point that we talked about his Dad and he cried. He is a big strong man and he cried. I'll tell you a little secret. One of the most favorite things that Sean does is he kisses my head when he hugs me. We talked and I tried to share some encouragement with him and he bid me goodbye. But he did one thing first, he hugged me again and he kissed the side of my head. It felt like a holy moment. God's Word in Isaiah says, "I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you." (Is. 46:4) God knew exactly what I needed at exactly the moment I needed it.

See, sometimes it isn't always in the big things or grand gestures that God's love is the most visible, it's in a Monday afternoon when you are pulling your hair out and you feel lost in a big ole world. It's not sometimes when your world is ending, it's just when your furnace doesn't work and you call on someone and they are right there when you need them most.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The Roller Coaster Ride

Friday was one of the hardest days of my life. Sean and I went to Boston to see a pain management specialist to help him with the debilitating effects of this cancer. He was admitted to Brigham and Women's Hospital immediately afterward. To walk out of that room and know that I couldn't just see him whenever I wanted to was one of the hardest things. New London is 20 minutes away, with travel I could easily ask someone to watch my kids for three hours and that still afforded me a 2 hour visit. Now, logistics takes much more doing. Today I am headed to Boston to visit. Thankfully I have so many people around me that when they offer help, it seems they really mean it. Today our old friends Mark and Sharon will be taking our children and will probably have them for 7 hours. That is a lot to ask. But, the kids are excited to go to see Mr. and Mrs. Morth. And I am at peace knowing I can travel and at least that part of my roller coaster ride is under control.

Yesterday 11 people came to my home and raked our leaves and mowed our lawn and cleaned our gutters. It was difficult work. It was a beautiful crisp fall day that they probably would have loved to spend anywhere else doing anything else. But, these were Jesus's hands and feet. And I felt at a loss as to how to properly express my gratitude. Flowers didn't seem enough. A thank you card paled. So, here I sit humbled and grateful and not quite sure what to do with it all.