No Separation

Despite my fear of sounding cliche, I'll say that I can hardly believe we are in March already. It doesn't feel much like spring with the snow that has been falling the past week. I appreciate the beauty, but I long for daffodils.

Beginning a new month makes me do the math. It will soon be two years since Ed was diagnosed with aggressive brain cancer. It is almost exactly one year since Ed's second brain surgery and our optimism of new treatment options. Four months have passed since Ed was doing so poorly last November. Our wonderful Christmas is now over two months past. 

Right now, our days are hard. Ed cognitive function continues to decline. Every week he is more tired, more confused, and more unbalanced. Every-day life and Ed's care take more time and energy as we try to keep him safe. 

The children and I try to include Ed in our family life. He can't play a game with the older children, but he can toss a ball to the younger ones. He can't read stories to the children, but he enjoys listening to their schoolwork. He can still enjoy singing and laughing around the table. 

We are asked often why Ed is feeling worse. We don't know. It could be that his tumor is growing and putting pressure on his brain. (I'm dreading his next MRI.)  Maybe he is experiencing side affects from radiation or having affects from his medication changes. His doctors and therapists are trying to figure out ways to help him feel better. 

Even though Ed is doing worse, I'm doing better emotionally than last November. This may be because I've gotten rid of some other life stress, but it also may be that I'm more emotionally prepared and accepting of Ed's health decline. 

Or maybe it is simply that so many of you are praying for us. I feel so humbled by your love when I get an email that one of you woke up at 4 a.m. and prayed for me. You all have sent gifts, casseroles, cards, and so much love. 

Last week this Blessing Box appeared at my door - a whole collection of handmade body products and a packet of verse cards.

I know how easy it is to pray for someone for a while, but when a situation lasts for months and years, other prayer requests push to the front of my mind. Thank you for still remembering us.

Unlike last fall when I could barely concentrate beyond the next minute and meals felt burdensome, I've been flipping through cooking magazines and trying new recipes. It is a joy to awaken this side of me again.

I've also tackled some home projects like repainting our kitchen cabinets. They are badly showing the years of wear. My boys tore out an awkward corner of the cabinets, and my dad helped build a new shelf and doors to make the space more usable. Yesterday my sister spent a couple hours helping clean and paint the doors and already the kitchen looks so much brighter.

I don't usually enjoy podcasts unless they are super-edited since I weary of the conversational pauses. I'd rather just read a well-edited book or skim a blog post for information. But since I have more time on the road, I've started listening to Dana White's podcast  "A Slob Come Clean." My house hasn't looked too bad in the stress of the last months, thanks to habits and my children's help. But I feel like the house is starting to ravel around the edges. Dana White's perspective on de-cluttering and cleaning has been the inspiration I've needed.

But sometimes worry that I'm throwing myself into projects - de-cluttering, new recipes, fun books, editing projects - to avoid thinking. It probably is part of my coping strategy - focus on what I can change since what I want to change, I can't. But I don't want to deny my present circumstances in an unhealthy way.

Sometimes I envy Ed's complete peace. From the very first, he had confidence that whether in life or death, sickness or health, God was caring for us and all would be well. It may be a gift from God that his cognitive decline means that it doesn't bother him that he needs so much help. I'm glad that he just expects life to go on, the taxes to get paid, the children to be cared for, without his input. On the days when the burden feels heavy, I remember verses like these.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35, 37-39