Part 1 of 7… Everything Changed When I Picked Up The Phone
To say that my relationship with my daughter was a bit torturous is an understatement. We had spent most of the years of her life from thirteen on misreading each other’s cues, arguing about minutia, and loving at a distance, sometimes in silence.
Then came the phone call.
“Mom, Michael (husband) has Acute Myeloid Leukemia.” Between the tears, pain, and angst, all the intervening years of discord and misunderstanding were wiped away as we embraced each other as mother and daughter, women, and family.
Thirty days of treatment followed, extending the two-week death sentence but creating new challenges. Michael had previously been diagnosed with CTE due to constant concussions from to his college football career. The chemo, injected directly into his spine, created convulsions, paranoia, and loss of the ability to perform math and retain short-term memory. The cancer had been reduced but his immune system was now defunct. The good, the bad, and the ugly paled with the results of genetic testing. All three genetic markers were positive. Michael had been born with a predisposition to this illness and there were only two choices left on the table as they now faced the incurable. Live six months to a year within reverse isolation in a hospital while his life was extended and his brain and cognitive ability were stripped away or… leave the hospital and enjoy a lesser time period with family and friends, building memories for his children, renewing bridges with friends, and savoring the sweetness of family. It only sounds like a no-brainer. When one faces certain death, many choose to cling to any shred of breath available.
Not Michael. Not my daughter. They bravely chose life.
While my relationship with my daughter had been fraught with challenge, my relationship with my son-in-law was virtually non-existent. He is a big guy and, oblivious to him, can suck all the oxygen out of a room just by walking into it. When they asked to come home for my daughter’s usual two-month hiatus on the Coast, Michael would come too, possibly to die. There was no choice to be made in our minds. Of course, they could come. Old slights were wiped away but the welcome we extended was not without trepidation. Were we inviting a two-month armed camp into our quiet home?
Prayer ensued. Lots of prayer. Prayer for patience. Prayer for a softening. Prayer for understanding… and … prayer for peace.