Today I’m grateful for healing.

Cancer is a complicated diagnosis. It can many different things to many different people. 

On one hand, it seems like everyone I know and love has been touched by cancer. My father, my friends, my friends’s parents, my coworkers, and other family. Many of those people deal with it and then go into remission. It’s not the life ending diagnosis that it once was before so many medical advancements.

But other people I know who have been diagnosed with cancer, have swiftly passed away from the disease. The cancer was too advanced by the time they were diagnosed that there was no possibility of healing. There seems to be no rhyme or reason. The grief experienced through the loss of some amazing human beings takes my breath away. 

To me cancer used to seem so remote and just a word used to describe an illness. And now it has become something real, something looming, and something imminent. 

My Mom, Ann, was diagnosed with Stage 2 Breast Cancer this fall. It came as a surprise to me – and an even bigger surprise to her. In fact, when I write this down and reread it- it doesn’t seem real or possible to me…still…the day before her surgery to remove the tumor-it still seems unreal.

But tomorrow she begins the healing process by having a lumpectomy which will be followed by six weeks of radiation.

It’s a strange time of transition. Mom is too young to be completely reliant on my care- she’s active and very independent (and extremely stubborn regarding us providing care for her). Her children are too old to be protected from the realities. As scared as I am, it’s important for her to hear that it’s going to be okay and she doesn’t need to worry about our fears. At the same time, we are all vulnerable. A strange thing is this passing of time.

Early on, when my fears were still struggling to remain hidden, my Mom assured me- “This is not going to kill me. But it’s going to be a fight”. Those words have stuck with me as we go through the planning and preparation for her surgery, radiation, and all that it entails. She will survive this stop on her journey. And she will grow from it. But it’s going to be a battle.

I am so grateful that my Mom was wise enough to look for signs of cancer and when they showed themselves, she tackled it head on. That takes wisdom and bravery. She can now begin her healing process. The cancer came- but the cancer didn’t conquer. It’s a reminder to me to check myself regularly. We can easily just be in the mode of surviving simply by breathing and doing our daily activities robotically. It’s vital to stop and address preventive health on an ongoing basis.

The first thing I used to do whenever I flew to New York or Pennsylvania to visit her during the summers was to tell my Mom I didn’t feel well. I would say my stomach hurt or I was nauseous. And every time, my Mom would give me a capful of her Coca-Cola syrup. I’m not sure if my stomach actually hurt or if it was my mind playing games on me. But there was something incredibly healing about taking the capful of syrup that my Mom gave me to heal. There was something comforting and familiar about it.

I wish I could give her Coca-Cola syrup to make this cancer go away. I wish I could say something that would take her fears away. I wish I could think something to make my own fear go away. But since nothing but time and treatment can make it go away- I just remain grateful for healing.

And may healing begin for Mom immediately.