Since our sweet little friend, Zoey’s mom announced on her blog that Zoey’s leukemia had returned, I’ve been in a funk. I wanted to scream when I read the words. I wanted her to take the hated diagnosis back and go back to loving our girls with the struggles we already had.
I spoke to my friend Jane the other day. Her daughter’s husband had died suddenly and I wanted to check on her and make sure she was ok. Jane said to me, “Honey when it’s your kid you just can’t take it. If it was me that is fine but I can’t stand that my daughter is hurting.”
That sums it all up. I can take it. Zoey’s mom can take it. Most parents can take it if it is their own issue. However, when it’s about your child, no matter how old they are, it makes a parent ache to a depth unimaginable and we would trade places in a second if we could just to make it all go away for our children.
When we visit with doctors, teachers, therapist or others that need or want background on little L, I am often asked if I have a medical background. Am I a doctor? Nope I am a Momologist TM and that by far trumps any other degree from any university.
3 years ago a vernacular entered my realm and I quickly had to learn a new language. Acronym’s galore. Since such time I know about Down syndrome, infantile spasms, lennox-gastaut, AML, blood disorders, thyroid disorders, pharmaceuticals that fix my daughters brain but are used in race horses and dogs, MRI’s where we prayed for a brain tumor instead of the crushing news we received, EEG’s for her brain not to be confused with her EKG’s for her heart and the list goes on for a mile.
This brings me to the point of this post. The beauty of working through such horrific and terrifying issues? That all the things that were going wrong made me right. I learned that life needs to be slower and enjoyed more. I learned that some of the best friends in life walk away when times are tough but more walk in the door or enter through the computer. I learned that “stuff” doesn’t make my house a home. It’s the hugs, love, kisses, time, nurturing, reading, bath time, consistency and yes even kicking little butts every now and again – that makes my house a home. I leaned more on God then on my own understanding. I let go of trying to control and instead welcomed lessons. I think every day about how Jesus moved among those who were sick. Healing and giving them hope. The compassion shown to those that society had cast out.
There are far worse things in life then what I deal with about Larkin. People who tell me how strong I am – I want to take by the hand and show them others who are so much stronger. Others who are in pain. Others who need a shoulder, friend, or just a wink and nod to know that someone cares. Nevertheless, I know they are there and that is all that matters. I know that I need to reach out and bring whatever comfort I can.
Things going wrong can make you right with the important things in life. I appreciate every single day given to me. I appreciate every single day that my little girl is breathing. I appreciate every moment that Chase and I share. I appreciate my husband most days – and for those moments when I am not the best wife, well I never said I was perfect. (giggle)
Your comfort means more than you will ever know.
Amen Amy!!!!! In the past few years I learned a very hard lesson in live through those many same paths that I was lead down. When I thought things were so tough, God showed me and even had me look at the rougher paths that others were faced with. In our house we live life to the fullest and have learned to enjoy every moment as it comes to us. It may not be what we wanted but when we look back at what we’ve overcame it was what we needed to shape us. My heart aches every time I hear of a mother or father who is faced with a life threatening illness with their children. It hit home hard with Camden’s Cancer and then when he passed but we grew from it and God taught us a very valuable lesson. I read about many of the other familys that you’ve written about and I just want to reach through the computer and hold them close. Amy you summed it all up in one word. GOD!!! Amen and hugs to you all!!! HUGs to sis, hugs to Zoey and her family and hugs to the other families who face these overwhelming mountains!!!
After my dad died, I came to the realization that life is so short. Too short to fuss and fight, too short to be unthankful.
I forget that lesson sometimes. Thank you for reminding me.