I need someone to ask me how I'm doing
and really want to know the answer.
Early on in Mom's pancreatic cancer journey, she became aware of the need to carefully measure her words and how much she could share depending on who she was with...
After a particularly stressful encounter with a friend over her cancer prognosis, she learned that not everyone wanted or needed to know the truth of her day to day journey...
...especially Sandy (name has been changed to protect friends who are hurting too)... Sandy was a dear neighbor who stopped by shortly after mom's first chemo treatment. Concerned and caring, she visited with mom about the cancer and asked how mom was feeling.
Mom explained a bit about the chemotherapy protocol, how she would have treatments once a week for 3 weeks and then have the 4th week off to recover before starting the rotation all over again.
Sandy innocently asked how long the treatment would last.
Mom bluntly stated she would be on chemo until she died.
The distress on Sandy's face would have been heart-breaking, if our hearts weren't already broken in two by the nightmare we were already living... At a loss for words, Sandy just burst into tears.
This, of course, made Mom feel even more lousy if that were possible. Still emotionally raw from her cancer diagnosis, she never imagined how Sandy would react, nor that she would have to put on a brave front before certain friends and family...
And that just stinks. At her most vulnerable, she was still having to think of others.
It was a hardship we knew she detested, but sheltering others from pain seemed to be a by-product of her "mom" gene. It's what she had always done.
And it seems that this is the way of our society...big sigh... It's just not polite to discuss things like cancer, illness, death or grief with casual acquaintances.
The ubiquitous "How are you?" is more rhetoric than sincere.
The proper response always, "Fine. And how are you?"
Would it be possible to move beyond such politeness and dig in deep with those suffering?
Could we look at them with the eyes of grace and hold steady while they unburden their pain?
Surely it is the call for each one of us who walks this road alongside the cancer warrior.
And so we have added this admonition to Mom's Letter from the Battlefield...
Ask if you dare,
but be ready for honest, for gritty, for heart-breaking, for messy...
then know that you have offered a deepest grace by helping carry the pain for the briefest of moments. In this you are offering the sweetest gift of love...
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After a particularly stressful encounter with a friend over her cancer prognosis, she learned that not everyone wanted or needed to know the truth of her day to day journey...
...especially Sandy (name has been changed to protect friends who are hurting too)... Sandy was a dear neighbor who stopped by shortly after mom's first chemo treatment. Concerned and caring, she visited with mom about the cancer and asked how mom was feeling.
Mom explained a bit about the chemotherapy protocol, how she would have treatments once a week for 3 weeks and then have the 4th week off to recover before starting the rotation all over again.
Sandy innocently asked how long the treatment would last.
Mom bluntly stated she would be on chemo until she died.
The distress on Sandy's face would have been heart-breaking, if our hearts weren't already broken in two by the nightmare we were already living... At a loss for words, Sandy just burst into tears.
This, of course, made Mom feel even more lousy if that were possible. Still emotionally raw from her cancer diagnosis, she never imagined how Sandy would react, nor that she would have to put on a brave front before certain friends and family...
And that just stinks. At her most vulnerable, she was still having to think of others.
It was a hardship we knew she detested, but sheltering others from pain seemed to be a by-product of her "mom" gene. It's what she had always done.
And it seems that this is the way of our society...big sigh... It's just not polite to discuss things like cancer, illness, death or grief with casual acquaintances.
The ubiquitous "How are you?" is more rhetoric than sincere.
The proper response always, "Fine. And how are you?"
Would it be possible to move beyond such politeness and dig in deep with those suffering?
Could we look at them with the eyes of grace and hold steady while they unburden their pain?
Surely it is the call for each one of us who walks this road alongside the cancer warrior.
And so we have added this admonition to Mom's Letter from the Battlefield...
Ask if you dare,
but be ready for honest, for gritty, for heart-breaking, for messy...
then know that you have offered a deepest grace by helping carry the pain for the briefest of moments. In this you are offering the sweetest gift of love...
"Carry one another's burdens and in this way you will fulfill the requirements of the law of Christ, that is, the law of Christian love."
~ Galatians 6:2, Amplified Bible
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