It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but the early months of 2007 were colder than usual, and the winter dragged on for a bit. It was April and it was still cold and dreary. I was tired and sluggish and generally just trying to cope with stuff. And then my mom called to say she had gone to the doctor and that she had bladder cancer.
Talk about a rude awakening. I had lived all my life up to that point cradled in the certainly that I was going to live forever. All my ancestors had. My mom’s relatives are all so healthy that the running joke is that you have to kill them to get rid of them. My dad’s brother is 83 and still lives by himself and kids around like a teenager. Nobody in our family had ever had cancer. I was home safe. The present moment may be a bit bleak, with the kids and work and financial worries, but I had my whole life ahead of me, and disease was not in my future. Up until now.
Turns out that several family members had had cancer. Funny nobody ever thought of mentioning it to me. My uncle had lung cancer. My mom’s uncle had stomach cancer. My dad had a colon cancer scare just two years ago and is now watching an enlarged prostate. And that’s not all. Diabetes, high blood pressure, and all sorts of mental disorders run in my mother’s family. My dad lost his mother to stroke, as well as his older brother. Great. Way to cheer a person up. I may not be living forever after all.
It hit me hard. Even harder when my mother came to stay with us after her surgery to have her chemo here. So many medical issues to deal with. So many mistakes were made. I got mad. And then I got depressed.
I was lucky enough to get medication for my depression. A gift from God, no doubt, but caring for my mother was still no picnic. I read lots of books. I searched. I thought I wanted to quit my job and move to the Lesser Antilles (sounded like a good idea at the time...and I really love the name of that place, even though I have no idea where on earth it is located). Or maybe quit my job and move to a farm in
Finally, after months of searching and thinking I finally figured out that I didn’t want to quit my job. Great. So, what did I want? The idea of farming tugged at my heart. I was generally unhappy (although no longer sad) most of the time. I shied away from homework and hid from my kids. I called Papa John’s for pizza so I could putz away in the computer. It seemed like a perfect time for God to send me a sign. Except he didn’t. Great. Now what?
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