Length of Days

Posted on October 1, 2014 by Margaret

“September Song” is the title of an old tune written for a Broadway show in 1938, and one of its lines says, “It’s a long, long while from May to December, but the days grow short when you reach September.” As sunrises and sunsets go, that’s true.

But this September, which is in the record books as of today, my niece Stina got married in the middle of the month. And as God would have it, our whole relation came together for the event. Though September days may be growing shorter, we packed a-lotta-livin’ into each one.

Our family has had lots of weddings, but not everyone has been able to attend each event. This time, though, all 49 of us came together to witness and celebrate Stina and Evan’s marriage. But the other reason we assembled was all about the mother of the bride.

Last February Mary was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In March she had the extensive Whipple surgery at Mayo Clinic, ridding herself of a baseball-size tumor as well as parts of her pancreas, intestine, gall bladder, and bile duct-work. The surgery was textbook-perfect, and no other cancer was found in the many scans that followed.

Chemotherapy began in May, and this week she completed the 16th of 18 infusions. She’s on the home stretch, and we are all quick to say the end is in sight, not just the end of chemo but the end of cancer. Yet no doctor will use the beautiful word “cured.” Mary herself hasn’t been disappointed by that, testifying that God has taught her a couple of important things since February: (1) to be grateful for each day she’s given, and (2) to live each one to the fullest.

When a cancer diagnosis is handed to a loved one, the whole relation joins into the misery of adjusting to it. And an overwhelming instinct is to rush toward that cherished one, hurrying into her presence with an urgency that feels like she might disappear any second.

None of us has a guarantee that we’ll live on and on, but part of cancer’s wickedness is to hang a permanent threat above the head of the diagnosed one. And when we love that person dearly, cancer becomes a threat to us all. That, I believe, is one reason every family member worked hard to clear schedules, buy plane tickets, pack for old and young alike, and make it to Stina and Evan’s wedding.

The days grow short when you reach September, but God tells us the “length of days” is shortening for all of us, every day of every month, not just in September. Day by day, hour by hour, we’re all on a sliding scale of “time remaining.”

Once we accept that, the whole group of us (along with anyone else in a cancer-touched family) becomes empowered to step out from under the threatening cancer-cloud hanging overhead. And it’s reason enough for 48 of us to learn what Mary has learned by way of her cancer: to be thankful for each day of life we’re given, and to live them all to the fullest.

Cling to the Lord your God, for He is your life and the length of your days. (Deuteronomy 30:20)

Happy Birthday, Nate.

Posted on August 18, 2014 by Margaret

Dear Nate…

Today was the 5^th year in a row you weren’t here to celebrate your birthday with us, and the 5^th year I’ve written you a letter on your special day. All of your children checked in with your wife during the day, and we reminisced about the years we had with you. Your family loves you.

Even as I write that, though, I realize you have a new extended family where you are now, each one a heavenly relative, most you hadn’t even met till you got to heaven. You probably don’t miss us like we miss you, but that’s ok. Someday we’ll all understand, when we’re there, too.

In the mean time, here’s a sampling of comments from a few of your children today. Birgitta said, “When I think of Papa, I feel overwhelmed with thankfulness for the man he was! He will always be missed.”

Linnea said, “Being on vacation right now reminds me of all the fun vacations Papa took us on as kids.”

Nelson commented about the 5 years that have passed since you died. He concluded with this: “Time on earth really is short. It’s challenging to think about how we spend our time and what’s important.”

Today I’ve been thinking about the 25 Augusts we spent in the North Woods of Wisconsin, always celebrating our birthdays together there with the family. It struck me that when we started going to Afterglow Lake Resort, we were both 32. When we ended that tradition, we were 57 – having gone from “kids” to middle-age adults as we birthday-partied through those years. Yes, indeed, time is short.

I often wonder if you’re aware of our lives on earth. Do you know your sister-in-law Mary has the same cancer you had? We’re grateful it was caught early and that she did well through radical surgery to remove the tumor.

Now she’s enduring the miseries of chemotherapy, without complaint. Maybe you already knew that. Today, as she was making her way to her 12^th infusion, she took time to write a tribute to you. And I thought you’d appreciate it as much as I did. She wrote:

I’m thinking of Nate today and all the happy memories we have. Your blog also reminded me of how magnificently he did as he soldiered on through all that God called him to endure, all the way to the end.

He is a good example for me and continues to inspire, even though he’s no longer with us. I often wondered why the Lord facilitated or allowed my being present for much of Nate’s last weeks, and now I know. I needed to see firsthand how a person dies well. Nate did that, and I pray I might do as well when my time comes. He was a good, trustworthy, and faithful man who ran the race marked out for him with grace and perseverance. We miss him.

* * * * * *

Amen to that.

I love you, Nate.

I thank my God every time I remember you. (Philippians 1:3)

A Sad Weekend

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Margaret

Tonight’s post is written in real-time and is not a re-post.

As if Mary and her family didn’t have enough on their minds these days, last week they were given more. Their Australian Shepherd Sydney, a model pet for 13 years, had begun having some serious health issues: everyday nervousness, a kidney infection, extremely deep sleeps, chronic ear infections, and eventually a refusal to eat.

When Marta took her to the vet where she works, the prognosis wasn’t good: renal failure.

Eventually Sydney stopped drinking, so Marta took her in for IV fluids to make her feel better. But time in the vet’s office was so strenuous for Syd, the decision was made to let her stay at home without further treatment.

On Friday Mary and Stina drove the 11 hours from Michigan to Arkansas to spend time with Sydney, Marta, and Julia’s family [the Levers] in an effort to make decisions together.

Mary tells the Saturday story:

“Poor Syd just wasn’t herself, not interested in anybody or anything. She wagged her tail and looked up but would quickly put her head down and close her eyes. She was declining in a hurry, not eating but just lying under the deck or a bush, away from everyone.

“I’d hoped to have a few days with her, but there was nothing to gain by that, especially for Syd. The vet on duty lives in the neighborhood, and we asked if he could bring home what he needed and do it here, so Syd wouldn’t have to endure another traumatic visit to the clinic. As a favor to Marta, he agreed.

“When Dr. Wolf arrived, Syd came trustingly out from under the deck to lay in the grass. He assured us she wasn’t going to get better with kidney failure.

“Julia’s family had delayed their vacation to be with us. We all gathered around Syd in the grass, and [Julia’s husband] Drew prayed and thanked God for Syd and for all the years we had with her. Everyone said their own goodbyes, and then the vet gave her a sedative.

“It was very easy, since Syd had an IV in her leg already. She relaxed, and I felt her go limp as her eyes closed and her sweet face settled into my hands. Then the vet, a sympathetic Christian man, administered the heart-stopping drug. And she was gone in a few minutes, very gentle and peaceful.

“Lots of tears were falling as we just sat stroking her and talking about her. Buddy [the year-old Springer belonging to Mary and Bervin’s grandson Andrew] lay down and put his head on Syd. Little [2 year old] Abigail put a black garbage bag over her like a blanket.

“I’m so glad the Levers stayed late, because the girls and I would never have been able to dig a grave in this stony Arkansas ground. We buried Syd near Rusty, their dog that died a few years ago, in a quiet woodsy area of their property.

“After it was all over, we all felt we’d done the right thing for Syd. It was quiet and peaceful sitting on their front porch afterwards, but I miss Syd and tear up just thinking about her. She was a good and perfect dog, and we loved her very much. It was a hard day here, but it’s almost over.”