I wonder if I’ll ever again hear the word “September” and not link it with the word “cancer.” Today is the two year mark of that dreadful day when Nate and I sat in front of a somber medical team receiving a death sentence.
The evening before, September 21, we’d had a quiet dinner and talked about our 40th anniversary coming in 2 months. We agreed Nate’s sore back would feel much better by then and decided a 3 hour drive to Greenfield Village would be realistic and fun. We could stay at a bed and breakfast and wander through the museums without an agenda.
Before bed that night we got caught up on bills, and then Nate said, “Since my stomach’s been bothering me, maybe something else is wrong besides my back. At least with the pre-op physical, we’re catching it early.”
I wrote in my journal, “I’m really nervous about tomorrow. Strengthen us, Lord, for whatever’s coming.”
On the morning of the 22nd Nate woke with bad abdominal pain but left the house before 6:00 am as always, taking the South Shore Line to Chicago’s Loop. Fear crept into my journal words that morning: “I’m so glad all of this is under your control, Lord. I know you won’t leave us alone.”
I picked Nate up at 2:30 on the corner of Monroe and Wabash near his office, and we threaded our way across town to Rush Medical Center. When we stepped off the elevator, the stainless steel sign on the opposite wall said, “Oncology.” I looked at Nate who said, “It’s just because they have a nice conference room on this floor.” But my hands started shaking.
In the waiting room we talked, holding back the fear something very bad was about to happen. There were precious few facts: Nate needed surgery on his spine; the pre-op physical included red flags, prompting tests; a scan showed a mysterious mass; doctors stressed a meeting a.s.a.p. to discuss what they’d found; we braced for the words “bleeding ulcer.”
As we waited, Nate pulled out his Post-its and read his notes. “I hope this meeting doesn’t take long,” he said. “I’ve got a jam-packed afternoon at work.”
The news turned out to be a thousand times worse than we’d anticipated, and Nate didn’t live to see Greenfield Village on our anniversary. But God lavishly answered my prayer for strength, and as promised, never once left us alone.
My temptation now is to think, “We’re finally adjusting, and all of us are healing. Surely the road ahead will be smooth.” But of course no one has promised that, especially not God. What he has promised is continued strength to endure, along with his reassuring presence, no matter what comes.
Unlike the deadly words announcing cancer, God’s words are always full of life.
“May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” (2 Corinthians 13:14)
Ohh, Midge I’m thinking of you very often! I remember the last time I saw Nate and that was when we (Jonathan and I) were downtown visiting Tom at his office , which was is too! Nate was always nice and I miss you two a lot!
It never stops hurting, really, yet as
you say, our God, our loving Father is always there and the strength he gives amazes me time and time again. I pray his comfort surrounds you today Margaret
What an awful day. My heart is with you even though I’m many miles away. Love you.
In my mind whenever I think of hearing the words, “You have cancer”I imagine it to be exactly as you describe it. However, I also believe God never would leave me but would give me the strength and courage to go through it. Now you have confirmed what I believe. I know if either Harv or I would receive this prognosis it would be devastating and very, very difficult but God would always be with me. Thank you for your complete honesty – it is like a very strong anchor. I’m so happy that you talk about it and thus bring help to so many. Thank you, thank you.
I’ll be thinking of you and praying for you as this season of the year brings back memories.
Wow Margaret,
It does bring back a flood of emotions from our ‘December” when we heard the dreadful words as well. BUT you also remind me of God’s strength and mercy that he poured onto us that day and every day since. Thank you.
Hugging you long distance. Miriam
Hi Margaret – What a good reminder today in your blog. I was cleaning out a bookshelf this week and my journal from 2 years was in a stack of books – I thumbed through it quickly – saw what the boys gave each other for their birthdays (both have Sept b-days) and then filled ahead to land on an entry in November – Nate passed away – just learned through Margaret’s Christmas letter. So sad – yet my journey with you began because of that office visit 2 years ago. Love you – praying for you.
Judy
My words, for you, do not come to the surface; only my tears. Hugs across these many miles ~ ~ ~ ~
Thinking about you and praying for you. You are such an inspiration to me.
It must have hurt to write these words, yet you did it. Thank you for your willingness to show us inside your heart. I can see the ‘lavishness’ of God in your life and that gives me courage for the road ahead. Laurin
I THANK YOU FOR YOUR MINISTRY,GOD IS USEING YOUR LOST TO SHOW HIS STREATH, I LOST MY FATHER TWO YEARS AGO,I CAN FEEL YOUR PAIN.THANKS SO MUCH,AND MAY THE HOLY SPIRIT CONFORT YOU ALWAYS.