I know it isn't necessarily "musical," but it's in my mind and worth blogging...
Monday, October 22, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
What to say?
Well...I guess it's about time I wrote on my Mom's condition. She's been diagnosed with cancer. I'm not certain as to how to take it, really. I am in firm belief that "all things work for good...," and I know where the good is in all of this. The good is, ironically, death. Seeing our Lord face to face. That's the easy part of the whole thing. Knowing that the end is easy is comforting. But knowing the process to the end is hard. Chemo. Surgery. Constant medication. Medical bills. On and on and on.
I think everyone believes somewhere deep down that their mother is invincible, as all of us reflect on, "sit up straight" and "don't eat that" and "don't touch that hot stove" and "if you're friends jumped off the empire state building, would you do it too?" I mean, knowledge like that is impeccable, so moms have to be stronger than the stoutest people living, right?
But if she could give me one more childhood piece of advice, I'm sure it would be something like, "don't cry over me, we know who's in charge so stop wasting time...there's a whole world of things to which to attend" (and she would say it EXACTLY like that, for she constantly corrected my grammar and still will as long as she lives).
But as I think on this process of cancer, of pains and sorrows, of bills and therapy, I can't help but remember, "where, o death, is thy sting..." And that's why I am at ease with this cancer issue and frustrated with it simultaneously.
I think everyone believes somewhere deep down that their mother is invincible, as all of us reflect on, "sit up straight" and "don't eat that" and "don't touch that hot stove" and "if you're friends jumped off the empire state building, would you do it too?" I mean, knowledge like that is impeccable, so moms have to be stronger than the stoutest people living, right?
But if she could give me one more childhood piece of advice, I'm sure it would be something like, "don't cry over me, we know who's in charge so stop wasting time...there's a whole world of things to which to attend" (and she would say it EXACTLY like that, for she constantly corrected my grammar and still will as long as she lives).
But as I think on this process of cancer, of pains and sorrows, of bills and therapy, I can't help but remember, "where, o death, is thy sting..." And that's why I am at ease with this cancer issue and frustrated with it simultaneously.
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