He gives and takes away

I’ve opened up this document and stared at a blank page with a blinking cursor on more than one occasion.   And yet I’ve struggled to actually put anything down.   I guess today I’m feeling bold enough to try.

October 2012 was undoubtedly a month I will never forget.   It began with the most amazing, joyful experience of my life; I gave birth to Anna Noel on October 5^th.   Less than 3 weeks later, on October 25^th, I lost my mom.   Most of you know the story— when Anna was 11 days old, my mom went into cardiac arrest at her doctor’s appointment.   Though the doctors were able to get her pulse back, they were never able to bring HER back.  And so our family had to make a decision that I pray most people don’t have to make.   Despite my countless prayers to give us just a little more time, God made it clear that He wanted her with Him. 

My mom, as most of you know, has been battling breast cancer for the past 8 years.   And when I say battling, I mean standing on the front lines, furiously wielding her sword and shield.  Multiple surgeries, countless (endless) rounds of chemo, medications, doctors, hospitals, etc.  And she did it all with little complaint even though she was in almost constant pain.  She was a warrior, but even the fiercest warriors can only take so much chemo before their heart says, ‘enough’.  She is, without a doubt, my hero. 

We came home from Texas to a whole pile of mail.  I have to say, it is utterly overwhelming to have a stack of cards awaiting you—half of which are congratulating you on the birth of your new baby girl, and the other half are expressing their sorrow on the loss of your mother.  Talk about contrasting messages.

At this point, I’m riding on an emotional rollercoaster that is constantly teetering back and forth from new baby bliss to extremely aching heart.   For the sake of those around me, I try to keep it in check.  In the moments that I feel joyful (because let’s be honest, I have a lot to be joyful for), I also feel guilty for feeling anything other than sorrow.  But I’m mostly irritated, frustrated, and exhausted, and feeling like I’m trying to hold it together by just a few tenuous threads.

I didn’t talk to my mom daily, and since we lived almost 1500 miles away from each other, we only saw each other but a few times a year.  And so I guess I was hoping that maybe it would be easier once I got back home.   For the record, it’s not.  I never realized how much I thought to call her during the day until I wasn’t able to call her anymore.  Like when we had our first snow flurries last week, when Leah tried to tell Isaac about heaven ("Isaac, do you know where Tyrone [Her fish that died after one measly month.] is?"  "Yeah, he's in da dirt."), and when sweet little Anna gave me her first smile. 

I dream about my mom almost every night.   And I feel thankful for the fact that in my dreams, my mom is exactly like she was before she had cancer—vibrant, throwing her head back in laughter, and wonderfully alive.   I like to think this is God’s way of showing me how she is now in heaven.   When I wake up in the morning, I feel the ache all over again when I realize that dreams are the only way we’ll get to spend time together anymore.  And on the nights when I don’t dream of her, I wake up panicked, wondering if I’m losing her already.   

On the day my mom went in to her radiation appointment, she dropped an anniversary card for Jared and I in the mail.  The card says this, “May your memories be warm ones.  May your cares today be few.  May your moments all be happy.  May your joy last all year through. “  Little did she know how fitting those words would be for the situation at hand. 

I wish I could end this post with some sort of sweet wrap up of how every day is easier.   How I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Etc etc.   Instead, I’ll just leave you with the lyrics to a song, which has been running through my head lately and which I've never fully connected with until now.  After all, I can't imagine a better example of the phrase, "You give and take away."  In my best moments, I find the lyrics to be true.   And in my not so great moments?  Well, I’m still working on that.   

“Blessed be Your name

When the sun's shining down on me

When the world's 'all as it should be'

Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name

On the road marked with suffering

Though there's pain in the offering

Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out

I'll turn back to praise

When the darkness closes in, Lord

Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be Your name

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Lord, blessed be Your name”