Wednesday, February 17, 2010

It is NOT easier...

I've gotten tons of cards, emails, Facebook messages, and phone calls from the many who are supporting us through this journey.  I love getting them, and being reminded that we are not alone in this!  However, there are some things that people say that just really do not help.  For example:  "Well, you knew this [Isaac's death] was a possibility when you started a relationship with him".  As if that really make this easier? 

Yes, I knew, before I even became friends with Isaac, that he had cancer and it was serious.  I knew after every single scan that came back with a new spot of cancer, that this day could be coming.  I knew when I said "in sickness and in health" in my wedding vows, that we would probably have more sickness than we would have health.  I knew all of these things...but does that mean losing my husband is any easier?  I was telling someone this week about him, and they said how hard it must be, and another person said "Oh well she knew this was a possibility".  Really?  Obviously they didn't mean to minimize the situation the way they did, but really? 

I was thinking about it while watching the Olympics.  We talk and talk about those who go into the Olympics as "medal contenders".  But, there are the people who go into the Olympics with no hope of winning a medal.  They go in, compete, do their best, and leave - knowing from the beginning that they aren't the best and aren't going to win a medal.  Do you think, though, that they don't at least hope?  I bet every single competitor has imagined their perfect scenario.  They think that maybe, just maybe, they will have the performance of a lifetime and the "medal contenders" mess up, and the stars will align and they'll get to stand on the podium with that shiny medal around their neck.  They know it's not likely, but I bet they hope.

That's how Isaac and I entered our marriage.  We knew that his cancer was rare and didn't have a great prognosis.  But we hoped - we hoped that maybe the next treatment would slow things down enough until a better treatment came along...and that treatment would shrink things enough until maybe one day, we'd get our gold medal.  We'd find the treatment that worked.  We knew it wasn't likely, but we hoped.  We went in, gave it our best, and here we are.  We didn't get the medal we hoped for - but boy, did we try...and I think it was the performance of the lifetime!

"As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.  And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of his return. And the prize is not just for me but for all who eagerly look forward to his appearing." (2 Timothy 4:6-8)


  1. People who say that most likely have never had to watch a loved one FIGHT cancer. My sister's prognosis was bad the day of diagnosis, but she fought. She did everything she could to prove the statistics wrong. She found dozens of people who beat the odds, who experienced miracles, who confounded doctors, and who served as hope and inspiration for her. Her story did not end that way, but up until the very end we always had hope. Her girls can grow up knowing what a couragous fighter their mom was. And yes, knowing the prognosis does not make the pain any less intense, nor does it ease your mourning. There is simply no way to truly be prepared to send someone you love to Heaven before you. Lessor women may have chosen not to get involved with someone like Isaac, which makes you an incredible gift from God to Isaac, and a wife to be admired, and a love to be envied.

  2. People can say some really dumb things sometimes. I probably have been guilty of it myself at times. I'm sorry you were hurt by unkind words. Try to set them aside and remember all the loving words of encouragement you have recieved. I'm so glad you have a place to take all your feelings.