Thursday, September 12, 2013

For September 12th:


“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any power, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

My mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the fall of 1994.  She surprised me by agreeing to treatment – she received chemo and radiation treatments for about 8 months.  She died on August 12, 1995, five­ days before her 66th birthday.
I said she surprised me when she went ahead with treatment because my mother was a very pragmatic woman.  She believed the best she could expect from treatment was the possibility of a slightly better quality of life for the time she had remaining.  This belief was mostly based on the fact that her next oldest sister died of pancreatic cancer in October, 1993, only two months after being diagnosed.
I wondered why she was willing to undergo chemo and radiation treatment, but after talking with her and watching her, it occurred to me.  She wanted to spend as much time as she could with her only grandchild – my son Robert.  He was 5½ when she died.  Her love for him was a living testament to the idea of unconditional love.  I learned a lot about perseverance and love from her during this time.
My father was a very hard working man, a carpenter by trade.  He worked extra at night and on weekends doing home repairs and remodeling so that he could buy extras for us.  It was a big deal to have cube steaks when we went on a picnic – they were a step above plain old hamburgers and hotdogs.  His hard work provided for us. 
During the last year of my mother’s life, I saw a side of my dad that I had never seen before.  Dad was so kind and understanding towards my mother during that time.  There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.  Those rough carpenter hands were so gentle in all that he did for her, whether it was helping steady her as she walked, holding her while she was sick, or wiping her brow during her final hours.  It was humbling to watch.  Although Dad has Alzheimer’s now, the love he has for my mother is still obvious every time he talks about her.
So, although it may sound strange to say, I thank God for the experiences I had while my mother was dying from cancer.  Without those experiences, I would not know as much as I do about my parents and about the depth of love.
Praise be to God.

Jan Griffin

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