I stopped by my Mothers’ house for a quick visit this past week while my Wife and Daughter went on to Volleyball Practice. As usual, I walked into the kitchen and my Mom greeted me with a big hug and kiss to say Hi and thanks for stopping in. Since I am the baby and all, I get special brownie points for popping in – or at least she makes me feel like I do. After a few minutes of regular chit-chat, we sat at the kitchen table playing and talking with her 5 little dogs when all of a sudden and out of the blue – – –
Today I was confronted by three words that totally upended my whole world. My Mom started out by saying, I have something to tell you – I don’t want to – but I have to. As calmly as I could, I looked at her and smiled and waited patiently trying to prepare myself for some off the wall response. Her, being 72 years old now and being totally independent, she often likes to joke around at times, she replied with a pause and then———- “I Have Cancer”………… Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah – that’s all I heard afterwards. I actually had to stop her while I refocused and said “Wait – What”? She began to slowly repeat herself – through her tears she tells me that they had found three polyps in her colon during a recent Colonoscopy and through a biopsy the Doctors found that it was in fact malignant.
Now let me tell you – I utterly hate to see my Mother cry, I mean it tears me to pieces to watch her pain – because when my Mother cries, she truly feels it. It hurts her so deeply when something affects her to the point that it makes her cry. You can look at her and see in her eyes that it physically hurts her. And me being the “Mommas’ Boy” that I’am, I want to take it all away and make it stop – for her and for me.
Mom and I have been through so much together and I have watched her succeed and fail at life and love. I have seen her ecstatically happy and I have seen her devastated and torn down and apart. Even through a 35+ year relationship and divorce, my Mother has always prevailed over any obstacle and come out on the other side stronger and worrying about us kids rather than herself. She loved me first and I know that no matter what, no matter how bad things are, no matter how far I stray, I know that she always has my back. Even me, as old as I am, she tries to be my rock.
The next two hours went by faster than I could have imagined and we had such a good time despite the devastating news. I knew that I had to stay positive for her and for me and we joked around and I made her laugh so much during our time together that evening. The highlight for me was the “Preaching” part. We talked about Salvation and Gods’ Grace. We talked about treatment options and we talked about “what if”. For what seemed like an hour or more, I felt like I was preaching to her about Gods’ word, His expectations and what she needed to do to ensure her place with God.
To fuel the whole conversation, Mom asked me “What makes you think that I am not going to Heaven”? Stunned – again, my Mother was many things during my childhood, one of which, for a short time, a Preachers’ Wife. She knew where her faith was but what I was more concerned with was the lack or loss of her salvation. She being a Methodist and I being Pentecostal we had a little different view of salvation. She allowed me to make my point and she seemed to agree with what I had to say without rebuttal. I felt good that I was able to talk to her about God and I know in my heart that in the end, whenever God takes her away, I know that I was able to put in her mind the importance of living her life according to Gods plan and that time is an unknown factor in this life.
…….. more to follow