One Year

Tuesday is the one year anniversary of my Mom's breast cancer diagnosis. I am so proud of the year she's had. We had lost nearly all hope in September and October, only to see her bounce back so fast we were left breathless with awe. I am grateful for all the compassionate doctors and nurses, and my dearest friend, a talented physiotherapist, who helped Mom steal back her mobility and energy.

All our carefully carved out schedules were thrown out the window and instead became (by choice) consumed in the journey of this year. Which meds? How much metastases? Is the oxygen tube pinched? Every visit is precious even when kids are wild. The kids remain partially oblivious to the darkness that was gnawing at her bones, which, oddly, showed up as blinding brightness on scans. As the light fades to pinpoints on scans, the darkness retreats from her bones. Hope for more months. Hope for more years. Hope that the baby who was a newborn this time last year will get to visit and laugh and remember his Grammie too.

So here we are. Twelve months so far of snatching moments with her, struggling to create memories for the smallest ones, and working always to push down the burning, aching feeling that threatens to steal the joy we are squeezing out of each day. We have shared birthdays (some of which she was too sick to remember), witnessed my parents renew with poignant truth their vows of nearly 40 years (in sickness and in health...), and even watched her walk down the aisle with my oldest brother at his wedding in PEI. We have attended plays at the local theatre (whose closing anthem still carries us out the door with smiles on sun filled days), shared stories about bees, attended Mass for Christmas morning (after they said she'd never see another Christmas), saw my eldest daughter read at Mass twice, relaxed on a bench while the kids played in the yard and kept watch on a blooming blueberry bush.

I don't know where we will find ourselves this time next year. That's for God to take care of. What I do know is that He and my Mom will keep surprising all of us. I know that this journey is one worth walking because the company is great. I know that in the years to come when things get harder again, we will look back and see the incredible miracle that every moment has been since August 19, 2013. We will be grateful that God is gentle with our hearts and plans the manner and means of all things. Most of all, we will cry out that He is good, He is our one defense and righteousness, and bless His Holy Name.

A Long Year

It's hard to believe it, but my baby is going to have his first birthday at the end of the month. It has been a joyful, wild, and at times difficult year. He has been a source of constant delight to our whole family. The darling of his brothers and sisters, he is full of smiles at almost all times. He seems days away from starting to walk, although I suspect like his older brother he will wait as long as possible to actually take his steps without a walker. My baby, if I can still call him that, spends most of his day getting into mischief and tearing around the main level with the help of a variety of walking devices and anything he can stand upright with and push for a distance. Just the other day he stood up and pushed the kids' little table clear across the room. We're constantly having to pull things up out of his long reach. A delightful conundrum to see him so mobile and curious.

During the first year of his sweet life, the greater life of our family has been turned on its ear. Our usual routine has changed dramatically and certain things, like our housework, have fallen completely apart. Our once moderately untidy home seems almost beyond reprieve. We're still co-sleeping (a first for us for this length of time) so his nursery has become the de facto storage room (that and every other closet, empty corner and flat surface). Our project will be to re-claim that, hopefully before his first birthday. Already this week we've re-organized the girls' room, adding back in the dressers we left out when we moved into our townhouse. We did that primarily to keep the kids from tossing all their clothes on the floor. With their bunk bed and newer laminate flooring their room looks brand new. All it needs is a coat of paint and baseboards to complete the effect. Next on our list is to re-organize baby boy's room so we can slowly get him in his crib. We want him used to sleeping in the crib before we move it down the hall to his brothers' room. That'll happen once we lay the new laminate in there and set up their bunk bed. Another year of big changes ahead.

Not to say that all the changes are due to our wee baby boy. Although his birth caused the usually fog of exhaustion, that wore off somewhere around the 4 month mark. While we were dealing with new baby love, my husband has been doing battle with his chronic illnesses (diabetes and gastroparesis). Of late he's been fighting the most persistent and long lasting case of cellulitis in his leg. Poor man works so blessed hard for us, and despite all the setbacks his health causes, he can't be kept down. God continues to bless us and we're fighting hard to keep our joy. The other reason for our topsy turvy year has been my Mom's terminal cancer diagnosis. She is daily doing battle for her health and despite an early prognosis of only a few months, she has been steadily improving her health and her prognosis. It has reminded our little family how precious every day is with our loved ones. We have been trying to spend two or more days a week visiting her, providing as much entertainment as exhaustion I suspect. The bonus has been of course more time with my Dad and brother (beloved and doting Uncle). The kids are being blessed with lots of fond memories they can treasure for their whole life.

What should have brought our family down has been a season of miracles, both big and small. God only knows what the second year of our baby's life will bring, but I trust in His mercy. He is good, and while circumstances may not always seem bright, I feel His loving care surrounds our family, protecting us.

Acts of Love

Am I the only one who finds cooking for others therapeutic? I cooked up a big batch of butternut squash soup for my Mom today. It was ready at lunch so I gave my 4 favourite taste testers a bowl (and saved some for my lovely husband because,  well, I love him and he loves soup). It was a big hit. Baby girl gobbled every bite down without a complaint.  A nice lift for me considering how fussy she can be. Adding shredded cheese makes everything amazing I guess. I was able to bring a few days worth of the soup for my Mom when we visited today so Dad could go to some appointments.

We stayed with her for 4 hours today. Mostly she slept, but the kids and I hung out in her bedroom and watched random Netflix while she faded in and out. She has hospital bed in their bedroom, plus a nice love seat for visitors and their big king sized bed facing her hospital bed. Even though she was too tired to chat like old times, she watched joyfully as the big kids bounced on the big bed across from her and baby boy played in his exersaucer. Once she fell asleep we just stayed with her. The kids didn't want to leave her room. I caught their eyes watching her rest, and they were happy.  They have been asking to visit her, just to be around her. As we got ready to leave they all got their cuddles. I cooked, they cuddled.

Dad sent me home with the ingredients for beef barley soup my Mom never got around to making. I can't do much,  but I can do this for them. Cancer can work its quiet evil, but the kids will give their love and I'll give my time and love, a little thank you for 30 years of motherhood. This time in the form of food and company.  It's funny this feeling of wanting to do something.  We all get it. We can't control the situation or take away the pain, so we do what we can. We do small tasks to take a little pressure off for others. We move our pebbles, praying for the strength to move mountains. We hope our little acts will be seen for what they are, love and gratitude.

Good News in Bad Times

This month my family received some bad news. After months of watching my mother's health deteriorate without a clear reason, she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, an incurable form of blood cancer. We don't have a prognosis for her yet, and we won't until after she sees a haematologist. In the mean time, we're all doing our best to stay positive, and stay away from google. There are lots of new and innovative treatments that can give patients who respond well many years of symptom-free living. With that in mind there's still a lot of hope in these dark days.

One of the things I've realized in all of this is how lucky we are to have our faith. I have found myself turning to God for strength and as always He outdoes me in generosity. I haven't felt moved to the anger I would have expected considering the circumstances. I know I could easily get angry, shout at God, or get dragged down in thoughts of "why my family???". When I first heard the diagnosis I had one moment of sadness, a taste of the abiding grief that comes with losing a loved one. And then I took a deep breath and layed my sorrows in God's hands with complete trust. I realize that God didn't make my Mom sick. That's not how these things work. I know that if it is God's will my Mom will be healed. I also know that if He allows her to follow the more painful road of suffering, it won't be because He doesn't love her. I know God loves my mother immensely. I have witnessed first hand how precious she is to Him. Over the years, God has carried her through so many struggles (not the least of which was raising us three crazy kids). She has always found a way to put her suffering aside to find room for love, charity, and joy. If you knew my mother's whole story, you wouldn't believe that she should be as cheerful as she is. By the world's standards, she should be bitter, especially now as yet another struggle comes to her. But she's not. If my mother has taught me nothing else, she has taught me that nothing is too big (or too small) to lay in God's hands. I have watched her time and again choose love and forgiveness instead of anger and bitterness. When we say the prayer "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us", she is one of the few people I know who can stand in good measure as always forgiving as much as she can and then some. How many of us hold on to grudges over the silliest things? I have seen her forgive those little things, but also hurts of such incredible magnitude. She has been wounded, but she is not wounded. She trusts in God. This is her greatest lesson. Although I wish more of her craftiness and creativity had rubbed off on me, I can't deny how blessed I have been by her example of child-like faith. Just like my kids trust that my kisses can fix their boo-boos, she trusts that there is not hurt God's love can't take the sting out of.

Regardless of what happens, I want to be that example of faith to my children. If my Mom is healed, we'll all throw the biggest part this world has seen since Pentecost. If that's not in God's plan, we'll stand together and lean on Him, and make the most of however much time she is given with us. Whether it be a year or twenty years, whenever she makes her journey to Heaven, I hope we can find a little more of her faith and joy to bide us through our days. God willing that won't be for a good long time.