Through the storm …

I knew. In my gut I knew long before the tests came back, long before the words came out of my cousin’s mouth. I knew since they said that she had a tumor. Cancer.
I have lost two grandparents to cancer in the last 5 years. My Grandpa has been fighting it for 3 years and now my Grandma Williams.
My heart continues to surprise me in its ability to deny my gut knowledge, as it was not until Sarah said it that my heart crumpled. Well, no, I guess that makes all the sense in the world when you factor in hope. We hope for the best in the face of the worst. And until we are forced to face a sad truth we cling to every glimmer of evidence to the contrary.
I lay down on my bed, pulled my legs up to my chest, covered myself with Peggy and cried. I am not ready to live a life without grandparents. I do not feel old enough or strong enough to not have that kind of overwhelming adoration and love poured on me. My grandparents were a huge part of my childhood; they were a constant source of stability and love when things closer to home were not so stable at times. They spoiled me and installed a self-worth and value deep in my soul that only a grandparent could give a child.
I went up to see Grandma over the long weekend. My brother Kevin had prepared me that it was not really like Grandma. Something happens to a person when they are tucked in to a hospital bed. They change. But oddly enough for me the part I struggled with most was not her appearance but her naked openness. Self-confessed for the first time, my Grandma keeps most of her feelings to herself. And here she was an open book, sharing hurts and worries, family secrets and rifts. And I felt like I was crawling in my skin. This change in her presence screamed to loudly of a spirit feeling like it is running out of time to really be known. And as much as I want to witness my Grandmother’s life and know her more, the connection between that and loosing her was very difficult to experience.
She is home now building strength so that she can undergo another surgery to remove the tumor. I imagine she feels much like I did between chemo treatments … wanting to feel better, yet fearing it because it is directly linked to feeling horrible once again.
There was a brilliant storm as I was driving home. To the west there were breath stealing painted clouds and mountains, sunshine and lively green fields; to the east immanent blackness. I was so enjoying the sun and the mountains but knew that I would have to drive into the blackness to get home. That got me to thinking about how often life is like that. We have to live through some really nasty storms to get home. Whatever kind of home that may be. And you know what I glanced in my rear-view mirror as I came out the other side of the storm … a perfect rainbow. I could not remember the last time I had seen a rainbow. I was so comforted.
Please keep my grandma and my family in your prayers and thoughts. My sister Kylie is coming home for a couple weeks in June. Bitter-sweet.