Plasmacytoma

My mom has a type of cancer of the plasma cells that her doctor is treating with 20 sessions of radiation. The plasma cells are growing abnormally fast, especially at the vertebrae she damaged when she fell. Those cells can put a protein into her blood that can spread throughout her body and cause tumors at the joints. This is the less aggressive type though, so we're extremely grateful for that. She won't need chemo, so she feels like she dodged a bullet.

Her last treatment will be a couple of weeks before they leave in their RV for Brett's graduation. We're all praying she feels well enough to travel. I think Ryan's going to help my dad drive, so just having him around will be a huge boon to her. His bedside manner is comforting and genuine.

Lord, hold my sweet mama ever so tenderly. Sing Your love into her, and swathe her in Your velvet grace and brightest sunlight. Position her thoughts to be toward You and shield her mind from sad imaginings. Use this to make her more alive to Your realness and power than she's ever known. And thank You for her.

where I am

My emotions are 'right there.' I thought it was because I was all excited about Ryan coming home--and in my Eeyore-ness future trippin' about knowing he would go back in just a few short days. Then I thought it was also going to a funeral on Friday. Then I thought it was also not having seen Brett since summer and knowing he's not even on the same continent.

I know now that I'm still dealing with my boys leaving home. They're all grown up, off at college, and they'll never live here like they always used to. There's no going back. I know that's the way it's supposed to be and that we really wouldn't have it any other way, but my heart doesn't know that yet. Lord spoke tenderly to me in the car one day and caught me completely unaware, "You're grieving. You miss the life you loved, and you haven't gotten over it." Tears ambushed me as I immediately acknowledged the truth.

When I spoke the words out loud to a friend this morning, I choked up all over again. This is so awfully hard to let go of something I absolutely treasured and drank in every single day. I love being a mom. I loved having my babies around all the time. I loved the wonder of their birth, feeling them move inside me, the excitement and anticipation of a brand new life. I think somewhere along the way I thought of them too much as mine, and now the motherheart inside me can't grasp that it will never be like that again. No cherub faces to kiss all over, no sitting on my lap and just absorbing them, no cute sayings or malaprops, no bedtime stories and toddler giggles.

I know there's a whole lot of positive to this new stage of life and that there will be a new normal that I'll adjust to, but for now, this is what I'm dealing with. I'm acknowledging this latest incursion of the interior, the so very sad place in my heart that is mourning, and I'm profoundly grateful that I don't have to do it alone. Your nearness and ever-pouring-out love are my constant Companion and Hope. XO