I was going to update the blog late last night, but fell fast asleep in my chair sorting my endless piles. I don't think I'll ever get done.
There is much swirling around in my head these last few days. Hard to sort through it all. Not sure which thoughts are first or real or important.
My tree is packed up and gone, though I wanted (needed) it to stay. My peace was destroyed and the season quickly disappeared. Long and short story, not important enough to share. And though I have the most important Light in my quiet hours (and loud hours), I missed the visual comfort of the ambient light. In comes my daughter...
Have I told you what a blessing she is in my life? I know I have, and I'll continue to be humbled by that. She gave me a solution in this beautiful, programmable candlelight she found, and shared. It was just what I needed, as usual. My instrument from God... my blessing. :)
Rob and I tried to enjoy the quiet of the last week before he had to start the third cycle of chemotherapy. We shared company in some of the television shows we enjoy, ate quietly, breathed a little easier, though we both felt the heaviness in the air. Last Saturday, I spent the afternoon and evening with Nicole and the children, and Rob and Mike spent some guy time together. The guys ate pizza and watched Lord of the Rings. Us girls (and baby Ben) ate a better pizza :) and just enjoyed our time together. It was a great period of fellowship and relaxation for all. We are keeping Rob away from everyone that we can, and it's helped him to stay as healthy and strong as he is, and able to withstand what he has.
Thank you, Mike and Nicole, for the suggestion. Much needed, much enjoyed. :)
So yesterday was the day. Again.
Rob was very quiet most of the morning, though he spent time on Facebook filling himself with the music he loves to search out and listen to and share with known and unknown friends. He needs to keep the music playing.
The drive to the hospital was very quiet. Neither of us wanted to go. We spoke a little yesterday morning about being scheduled for nine treatments in a row, and Rob said, "I don't think my body is going to be able to handle all the treatments..." I had to agree. I'm scared, but comforted. Rob, too. It's your prayers that are keeping us both in God's peace. Don't ever think otherwise. We literally "feel" them. Thank you... ♥
He didn't ask for his slippers yesterday. Just left on his salt-spattered shoes and leaned back in the chair. The bloodline was found quickly, though it had to be relocated to Rob's other arm part way into the infusion of the pre-drugs due to a bit of pain, but mostly swelling. He slept through most of the two hardest drugs, to which I am thankful. I am glad God sweeps him away for those so he can be in a different and quiet place.
I take with me each week a bag of things to keep me busy... books, quilting projects, my camera, doctor notebooks and files. We get copies of the bloodwork each chemo day so we can keep our own eyes on his numbers, and do what we can to keep him safe for as long as we can.
I pulled out my latest project, well, an older one I'm trying to finish. I designed and started a series of four "season" quilted wallhangings when my Nicole went in for her brain surgery in Milwaukee back in 2011. I went with on that initial surgery, with my quilting in tow, because my quilting calms me. So bringing it to chemo each week is another way to get through the day. I am happy to say I am on the last one, just finishing up the hand quilting. Then, I will work on binding them all, with my granddaughter learning by my side.
Izzy is my quilting prodigy... can't get enough of it, just like me. When she hears of a friend being sick or injured, she whips out her fabric, scissors, and thread... and in a flash, she has cut-out, sewed, stuffed, and appliqued a large heart for her cherished friend to sleep with. I love that girl! Ally is two years younger, but ready, too. So I will spend lots of loving and teaching time with them as I am able to.
See? My mind is all over the place today still!
Back to the chemo room yesterday...
A number of months ago I went into the craft store and bought some beading supplies, and made myself a little bracelet that says simply, "Be still." It is a reminder to me all day, especially at work, to keep my priorities straight. To stop and feel God's presence at that very moment, and know that He is there, always with me (breathe easier -- I don't have to handle this on my own...).
While I was lap quilting, and Rob was sleeping quietly, suddenly I had the feeling to stop and just look at Rob. God grabbed my heart and shook me into the silence of that room. Instantly I was in tears. Instantly.
But I looked at him. He is quiet. His hair is mostly gone on his head, and now his eyebrows, eyelashes, mustache, and side-beard are thinning, too. His veins are getting harder to find. He is more quiet. His skin is ashen. He moves slowly down the halls. He doesn't want to be rushed in anything. Can't blame him.
We are trying to remain positive, just at a slower pace. All of a sudden yesterday, sitting there watching him, it became clear that this was all real. Apparently, the realness was lost in the busyness. Sort of. But yesterday, I saw with new eyes. New heart. I prayed right there, right then, that God would envelope Rob and hold him, that Rob would feel His arms around him, that he would be comforted, at peace, and filled with healing cells. I prayed that the chemo drugs would not completely destroy all the good, too.
I pray randomly throughout the day and night. For things before my eyes and things in my heart. For things I hear and things I feel. I need to talk to my Father all the time... and He is always there to listen and comfort. Awesome!
I believe in miracles. I believe in God. And no matter what happens, because of my faith, I am good with it. As I've said before, God sees the big picture, I don't. He is the one in charge, I'm not. He knows much, I know little. And no matter what comes our way, God will be loving us and holding us and lifting us, especially with the help of His children. It's comforting to know that. Even more so to feel that. In a conversation Rob and I had yesterday at the hospital, I know he is in a good place in the Lord Jesus in his heart. That is more comforting than anything. He is not lost, no matter what. He is found, and loved... much more than I am capable of. My heart smiles.
I don't like that Rob has this dark time in his life. He is a happy guy, one that retains his teenage-hood, and that in itself keeps him in a good place. I tell him I am married to a nineteen-year-old -- old man. He smiles big. :)
Rob has been up for awhile now, on the compy with his music and his good buddies. It's a good place for him. His voice is all foggy again, and the headaches returned fiercely last night, even more so this morning. But he carries on, and plays on... this Musical Muse, whose strength is to be admired.
The following eight pictures are from a happy day we shared in 2012... smiles. :)
Until next week, be blessed, love the ones you're with, forgive all the mistakes of the past, and don't be blinded by things that can be fixed. And, it can all be fixed in one way or another.
Love you all. So humbled by your care and love in return. You have no idea...
In Love and In Peace,
Cheri ♥