A Spring of Joy

I am a morning person. Unfortunately for me, chemo doesn’t allow me to be. Brian is not a morning person. Unfortunately for him, chemo requires he be one.

This past week has been hard on us both in the mornings. When Audrey’s tiny “Momeeee” wails through the baby monitor, Brian, feeling pretty rough just because of the fact it is morning (he claims it’s not morning if it’s still dark outside), has to get up. That, in itself, is a feat for him. Then he has to change Audrey, get her juice, and get her settled. Thankfully, she’s a snuggler, and she will curl up in Bri’s arms with us for a few minutes before erupting into her day. The boys wake and the quiet morning becomes chaos.

In the midst of it all, Brian has to get ready for work, get the kids fed and dressed, get me fed before any nausea sets in, fix his coffee, pack his lunch and try to wrap his mind around what his day looks like. I, on the other hand, feeling pretty rough from either the lack of sleep or the chemo, have to lie in bed and try to keep my mouth shut. That, in itself, is a feat for me.

Our friend, Joe, describes us perfectly–as Type-A as I am, Brian’s not even a Type-B… he’s a Type-Z. You can imagine how difficult the adjustment to a new way of life is for us. Yet Brian has filled so many of the gaps that I leave, and though he hasn’t done it necessarily the way I would, he has done it well. I am humbled by his heart, even if his brain doesn’t always work in the morning.

It’s easy for me to fall into the trap that this is all about me… my cancer, my chemo, my side effects, my emotional mess. But this is about him, too. He is my provider and protector, and it has to be hard for him to watch his wife suffer and know there is nothing he can do about it. Yet he does it all, just by being here and walking with me.

Although it doesn’t always feel like it, there is so much more to our life than this, and this weekend we celebrated, because last week Brian accepted a new job. As much as he enjoys his job right now, this is a great and well-timed opportunity for us… and it seems God just dropped it into our laps. He’ll start at the end of this month, and at the beginning will unfortunately have to travel during the week. However; we are excited and amazed at how God continues to show Himself abundantly in our lives.

So this is my tribute to Bri… to his heart… to his provision for our family… to his optimism… to his loyalty… to his faithfulness… to his strength… to his sacrifice. And this is my thank you to all those who have stood by him in the midst of our struggles. We are grateful to have you in our lives.

Brian is all I could have ever asked for in a husband, and so much more than I deserve. I love him. There is no more to say.

Friday night I finally had a good night’s sleep… so did Audrey. And Saturday morning, to celebrate, we let Brian sleep in–until 8:00!

Today marked the one week point since my first treatment. I went back for labwork, and everything looks good. My symptoms are minimal other than bone-deadening fatigue at times. And I am thankful.

Every time I walk into the cancer center it is like a punch in the face or the stomach; I haven’t decided which. There is so much sadness in that waiting area. So many older people who look as if they have no reason to go on. They are tired, they are gray, they are weak. I struggle because, in my mind, I don’t belong here. I am young, I am vibrant, I am strong. And I realize that as my chemo progresses, I will become more tired, more gray, and more weak… I cannot bear the looks of pity and sometimes shock that radiate across people’s faces when I walk into the lobby and sit. Reality is not easy to grasp sometimes.

As I sat and looked at the people around me this morning, there was one woman who came in and breathed fresh air into the room. She was older, completely bald, and walked with confidence. She smiled through her bright pink lipstick at everyone she passed, hugging a person here and there that she recognized, then sat down to watch the people around her. She brought something into that room–something that was missing. Hope.

It made me think and pray. A lot of things make me think these days. And I’m learning how to pray in a whole new way. My thought life often points me to Christ… today I thought about His prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew what was ahead of Him and He accepted His reality. He didn’t ignore it. He didn’t try to escape it. He didn’t run from it. He didn’t gloss over the darkness. He wrestled with it. He cried. He prayed for deliverance. Yet He bowed to God’s will. “Nevertheless, not my will, but thine…” Jesus knew His past, present and His future, and He had hope in His Father.

My reality is ahead of me, too; and it is absolutely nothing compared to what Christ endured on the cross for me. Yet it is real, it is hard, and it is lonely. Every time I walk into that lobby it is taking another step in acceptance for me. Yet every step is filled with hope. I can walk into the center and be the smile that people need… the head held high… the strength. But not because of me. Because of Christ and the living hope that He has given me. The LIVING hope.

Today I go in for my first chemo treatment. I can’t even begin to explain how surreal this all feels. It’s overwhelming and scary and big and ugly, but God has given me so much peace this morning. I slept well last night, and he brought to mind songs and verses this morning as soon as I woke up. I know this is because so many of you have been praying, and I can’t tell you how much that encourages me. God is answering those prayers!

One of the overwhelming parts is how much information is given and how many little details in life will change… from the way I brush my teeth, to the way I eat, to my exercise level, to skin care, etc. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I know I’m going to lose my hair, but I don’t even know if that’s really hit yet. Maybe it’s because of my kids…

We told Asher and Micah about my chemo this week. That was one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had to have, at least initially. Telling the boys Mommy was going to feel really bad for a while, but that the medicine would make me feel better later made no sense to them. Picture Micah, my 3 year old, snuggling on Brian’s lap, eyes huge with crocodile tears. He just looked shell-shocked. Then he said, “Mommy, I wish you never got sick.” And it broke my heart… it still does when I think about it.

But the tears didn’t last very long… there is so much truth to laughter being the best medicine. When we prepped the boys that Mommy would lose her hair, Asher looked up at me from underneath my arm with those big brown eyes. I told him that meant Mommy would be bald in a few weeks. His eyes got even bigger and he said, “Mom, you’re going to look like a man!” Brian and I cracked up. I guess there’s the child’s perspective for you. Then he and Micah had a big discussion about how Mommy was going to look like Mr. Burress.

What you have to understand is that Burress, our new director of worship at church, is the most amazing person in the world in my children’s eyes. Burress and his wife, Kristin, have reached out to our kids on their level and have loved them. What a blessing that is in our life… there are no words to describe what it is like as a mom to see other people love your children so well.

However, Tuesday night, my boys’ idolatry of Burress was at its peak. When I went to check on the kids to make sure they were still tucked in, I found them lying awake in their room. Micah said to me, “Mommy, I wish I were you.” I asked him why, and he said, “So I could become Mr. Burress.” I didn’t know what to say to that one… then he said, “Will it hurt?” I asked, “Will what hurt?” He replied, “Will it hurt when you change into Mr. Burress?” I had to laugh. Oh my sweet, sweet Bear. To him if you look like someone, you are someone… so I suppose he thinks I’m going to become Burress. Brian’s not too fond of that idea.

I went for my wig “consultation” yesterday and Kristin went with me. She and Burress have ministered to Brian and me with their time, music, selflessness, integrity and genuineness, and we have been so blessed. Trying on wig after wig got overwhelming, but Kristin made it fun… so did the blonde wig with black roots–not exactly my style, but good for a huge laugh. Asher wanted me to come home with a Ronald McDonald wig. That’s not exactly my style either. But oh well. It’s good for a laugh, too. And laughter is healing. So are friendships… and Burress and Kristin have helped heal my heart a lot. As have so many of you. There’s nothing else to say except, “Thanks.”

He will never break His promise;
He has written it upon the sky.
My Deliverer is coming;
My Deliverer is drawing nigh.
(Rich Mullins)

Saturday, September 29

We are driving home now, and I can’t believe how quickly the week passed. I have been reliving memories from this week, so I thought I’d share a few…

• The trip down, talking to Brian and philosophizing about several different topics. It is good to be able to do more than just ride in a car. How thankful we are for kids who enjoy car rides!
• How excited the boys were to go through the tunnel (and Audrey was as scared as they were excited).
• Watching the kids run through our condo when we arrived and seeing how thrilled they were to sleep in their “new” beds.
• The first time Audrey touched sand… she curled her toes up and clung to whoever was holding her for days.
• When we went out to eat one night, and Brian took Asher to the bathroom. He told Micah to watch his plate and make sure no one ate his food. “Okay, Dad,” Micah said, “I’m make suring.”
• Listening to the JMU game today while they walked all over Villanova… ahhhh, how I love football! (On that topic, just so you know, Brian’s sacrifice was for the better. His Redskins were defeated on Sunday… my Cowboys; however, crushed the Chicago Bears.)
• Audrey’s faces. She is very dramatic and uses her eyes to express herself. It’s hard not to laugh all the time.
• Going off-roading on the beach with Grandpa. The boys had a blast.
• The way Audrey calls both Brian and me “Momeee” and both Grandma and Grandad “Mamaw”. She already understands the whole “one person” thing!
• Watching Audrey grow and change. She nods and shakes her head yes and no now, and she is starting to add more words to her repertoire.
• Building sand castles over and over and over and over…with our “serious shovels”.
• Watching Asher overcome his fear of the ocean and delight in playing in the waves.
• Sitting beside the pool while the boys played with their daddy. One time in particular when Brian was jogging around the shallow end with them, and Micah shouted, “Oh Daddy, I wuv joggling!”
• The food. I know my diet is going to be changing a lot in the future (it already has) so I ordered a big ol’ steak for supper one night. It was excellent!
• Listening to Asher during family worship ask question after question about Joseph because he wants to understand it all. Then seeing his face light up when it connected with him that his name was the same as one of Joseph’s brothers. “My name is in the Bible!” he exclaimed.
• Snuggling with Micah, falling asleep with Audrey in my arms, holding Asher and just talking.
• Shopping with Brian and holding hands. (Wait… how come he got all the new clothes?)
• Micah cruising around the shallow end of the pool on his tippy-toes.
• Playing Trivial Pursuit with Mom & Daddy, Nan & Pappy. It’s a yearly tradition—men against women, and I am humble enough to admit defeat. They beat us soundly. I am; however, very competitive (translation: proud), and just want everyone to know I was drugged up on Percocet (that, and they had all easy questions!).
• Going hunting for sand crabs in the dark on the beach.
• Grandma’s Glad Bag. My mom gets a little gift each day for the kids… the boys especially loved their frog and lizard, which they promptly turned into “Super Frog” and “Super Lizard” complete with duct tape capes Grandad made for them. The gift-giving culminated in new JMU shirts which they wore proudly today.
• The Diva discovering that sand is okay to touch… then throwing it all over herself
• Hearing Micah pray: Heavenly Favver, thank you for this food. Thank you that Mommy’s boo boo is better so we can come to the beach. Thank you that Jesus is coming home soon. In Jesus name, Amen!
• The laughter.

It was not a perfect week… it never is… Brian and I get impatient with each other and disobedient children. The kids have accidents and spills. Audrey had a few very early mornings, which were especially hard on Brian. I had days where the pain from surgery was difficult. All those things will fade away… the memories; however, will not be forgotten.

Friday, September 28

Today is my birthday, and it has been a wonderful day. We had gorgeous weather all week, and today was no less beautiful. We spent hours on the beach this morning, and Brian was able to finally convince Audrey to play in the sand. Now she walks everywhere, digs with the boys, and throws sand all over herself, looking up in confusion whenever it showers around her. She has brought me a lot of laughter today…

The five of us worked together to build an elaborate fort. Brian is quite the architect, creating a labyrinth of bridges and tunnels while the kids fill buckets with sand. Unable to really dig well left-handed, I was in charge of smoothing things out and making a roadway—a perfect job for a perfectionist. Time flew today. We played, took walks on the beach, ran in the surf, and laughed, a lot.

We took Audrey out to the beach later to take her 18-month pictures. (Is she really almost that old?) Brian dabbles in photography, and he really captured Audrey tonight. She has such a dramatic personality, and I don’t know how we’re going to choose which pictures to print! She would toddle up and down the beach, grinning and laughing, posing adorably for the camera.

After a yummy supper, cake and presents (hooray for a new JMU sweatshirt!), the boys, Grandad, Brian and I bundled up, grabbed our flashlights, and went down to the beach to hunt for sand crabs. It’s a tradition my dad started years ago, and this trip the boys went out four nights. They are so entertaining; chasing after crabs, shining their flashlights, and running away from the surf. Their delight is contagious and they’ve made this week so much fun—so full of laughter.

It has been a good birthday. We found out today that my bone scan came back normal, which made the day better… but it didn’t make the day. What made the day was the being together…laughing.