Three years ago today (May 25, 2005) at 12:30 in the afternoon, Karen and I were at Emory Hospital in Atlanta. I remember it as if it were yesterday. If I close my eyes it is as if I’m there again. I can see the pain and worry in Karen’s eyes as we were given news that changed the direction of our lives. Her failing health was due to metastatic breast cancer and the prognosis was death by Christmas just months away.
Karen and I were devastated and we both just wanted to be with our children and hide. We wanted to get away from everyone and everything. We immediately starting making plans to pick up the children and get away to the mountains. I remember praying with Karen while sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, begging God for healing and direction. After that prayer, we agreed God had a purpose for our family that included cancer. Running, which is what we wanted to do, was not what we needed to do. We needed to go home and be with our family and friends; we needed to face this new challenge head on. We were certain that God wasn’t caught by surprise by the diagnosis.
On our way home from the hospital we stopped at the original Chic-fil-a dwarf house in Hapeville. I remember where we parked, how long it took Karen to get into the restaurant and the exact table where we sat. It was there we decided the children would be told everything we knew and that we would approach the days that lie ahead like we had the days before, as a family.
Coming home felt really good. Karen had not seen the children since Saturday morning (May 20, 2005). Sitting in our family room we told the children about the cancer. Though Karen’s family has no history of cancer (of any kind), the disease was not a mystery to our children. They have seen its affects on several close friends. As we prayed that night, my oldest son’s prayer was that his mother would live long enough for his youngest brother (2 years old at the time) to know her.
For the past two years our family marked the anniversary of the diagnosis with a celebration of life party. It was festive and joyful. Without Karen, the past few days I have felt emotions I don’t like. I feel anti-social and would just assume crawl into a hole somewhere. Partly because I operate best in a scheduled world of order and handle expected emotions in an orderly fashion. I completely underestimated the overwhelming emotions this week would bring.
As I said in an earlier post, I know where I am and I know where I desire to be and more importantly where I believe God desires me to be at this time. I have no desire whatsoever to do the things I know will get me there because it means I have to walk back into the valley. I have to finish this blog. I have to process Karen’s things rather than take comfort in having them just as she left them. I need to open the closets and drawers and not see all her things there gathering dust. It’s as if I’m fighting against myself. The part of me that takes great comfort in seeing all as it has been, wars with part of me that wants to be a good steward and move on to what else God has in store for me and the children. God allowed the cancer for a reason, God took Karen Home for a reason, God has plans for our family going forward … on this I rest. If I didn’t the pain would crush me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Still praying for you! The process of grief is not nearly as fast as we would like. You are still in the "year of firsts" that seems to really grab you at every turn. Praying for healing and strength to move forward, but don't be hard on your self for not being ready yet. Much love and prayers to all of you!
Post a Comment