Losing a Friend is Never Easy

Today a sweet friend of mine went home to be with the Lord. My heart is saddened by his passing, but I know his worn and weary body is completely healed now. 

C.G. was 97 years old and had been married to his highschool sweetheart, Earlene, for 70 years! Please keep her in your prayers. 

Both C.G. and Earlene loved their family and friends deeply, but loved the Lord most of all. 

They were simple people who enjoyed gardening and serving their community. They also were huge fans of the Georgia Gym Dogs and loved taking others to their meets. 

Many tears have fallen today because of a deep loss, but God has collected every one and stored them in His bottle. 

I take comfort knowing I'll see C.G. again one day. I'm so thankful he loved Jesus. 

A letter to my forever friend

A letter to my forever friend, the red headed wonder:

Where should I start? I guess I'll start with my first memory of you. I had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and was on Facebook looking to join breast cancer groups. I had no idea what I was facing and needed some support. I don't remember which one I met you on, but you took the time to answer one of my posts and not only that, you offered to come and visit me. You said you'd help me understand some of the things that I was going to be facing. I was both excited and nervous to get your response. I don't normally meet with strangers and I was scared.

You weren't able to come until a few days after I'd had surgery. I remember when the doorbell rang I was so embarrassed. I didn't want you to see me with the Jackson Prstt drains dangling from my neck. They were so ugly and my wounds were so raw, but you said you didn't care. You'd already been through that. You knew what they were, drainage tubes that pulled fluid and blood away from the wounds. 

Within just a few minutes of talking with you, I felt completely at ease. You smiled a big smile and gave me a bear hug. It was so nice to have an instant friend, one who understood the things I couldn't say.

I wasn't sure at that time whether I would go through with reconstruction surgery as my breast surgeon advised and I told you so. You threw your head back and laughed. You even offered to show me your "Foobs" as you called them, fake boobs. You told me they were great and that I'd get a free tummy tuck, too. You wanted me to know what they might look like if I decided to go forward with surgery. I said, Thanks, but no thanks." Though I didn't explain, I think you understood I was afraid to look at them. I was afraid seeing them would freak me out. 

I don't remember how long you stayed that first visit but the day seemed to last forever. When it was time for you to go, you promised to come back again soon. I was thankful. 

Since that first meeting over 11 years ago, we've done our best to keep up but often life gets in the way. I love it whe we find time to meet for lunch, it's so nice to talk freely, sharing our hopes, fears, and dreams. Those times are rare because of conflicting schedules. Thankfully, we can touch base through social media or quick texts. But after each contact, I want more. It's almost like you're a drug and I need a fix. You're so strong in your cancer walk and I'm still figuring things out.

One of the things I love most about you is your attitude of gratitude. You've taught me to look for things each day that I can be thankful for and that has helped me develop a spirit of positivity.

When I look at you, dear friend, I don't see a breast cancer survivor, I see a thriver. I see a brave woman on the outside. I see a woman who is a world traveler, a person who never meets a stranger, and a person who always loves. You give so much of yourself to each who meet you. 

None of us know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future. I pray that you will always be safe in your travels, that you will always know you are loved, and that you will always have the opportunity to share your story to others.

You are a blessing and it is my honor to call you friend.

With love,

Bonnie 

Life Lessons from a Book

Back in 1997, I read a little book called "Tuesdays with Morrie." I'd forgotten all about it until last week when I found a copy at a little free library. Taking it home, I put it on my TBR (To Be Read) shelf and said I'd get to it when I'd finished a couple of other books. (Normally I'm reading 2-3 books at a time.) Reading is my guilty, not guilty pleasure. 

Passing the shelf yesterday, I glanced down and saw the book on top of some others. Hmmm. I know I've read this before, I thought, but maybe I'll read it again since it's been years. I don't normally do that. Once I've read something, that's it. I don't revisit, except for the Bible which I read cover to cover annually. 

Picking up the book, I read a few pages and my memory was refreshed. The story was about an elderly man who was suffering from ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease. There's no know cure and I was very familiar with it, you see, my maternal Grandmother died from it. 

I'd forgotten about all the tender details the author shared and as I was reading, found myself remembering my grandmother and all she went through. When she was first diagnosed, it was in the early 70's there hadn't been a lot of medical research on the disease because it was so rare. I was a teen but boy do I remember how horrid the disease was as I watched my grandmother slowly decline. Day by day, her muscles atrophied. She lost the ability to walk. Then she lost the ability to talk. She had to have a tracheotomy and needed her lungs suctioned all the time. She needed to be fed through a tube and as we watched her waste away, our hearts were ripped from us. 

In the book, Morrie Schwartz shared life lessons with his former pupil, Mitch Albom. They met every Tuesday. The book begins as Morrie is diagnosed with the disease and progresses until he dies. During those Tuesday meetings, Morrie wants Mitch to know what he's experiencing. He shares his life in such a personal way you don't want to put the book down. Each page I read brought memories I thought I'd tucked away. I re-pictured my grandmother's face as she was doing her best to get through each day.  

There were so many powerful quotes in the book that I found myself underlining each one that touched my heart, especially this one -"Life is a series of pulls back and forth... A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. Most of us live somewhere in the middle. A wrestling match...Which side wins? Love wins. Love always wins”
― Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life's Greatest Lesson

How true! Life is a series of pulls back and forth. We all struggle daily in one way or another. Some deal with devastating disease, others with depression. Whatever the case may be, none of us go through life without some kind of trial. 

I've been dealing with a lot of health issues lately and discouragement has been my daily companion. When you can't control your body, it's only natural to feel that way. But I've tried my best to remember there are others who struggle with issues much more difficult than I. When I do that, I can be thankful, even for the path I'm on right now. And I tell myself God knows where I am and what's going on. He hasn't taken His eye off of me. 

And I got a sweet reminder today of that very thing from a friend I've never had the pleasure of meeting in person. Her name is Kathie. We connected through an article I wrote years ago for a cancer magazine. Since that time, we've become good "far away" friends. We talk on the phone when God prompts one of us to call the other, we email, we pray for each other. It's a great connection and the timing is always so on point, we know it could only be God's. 

If you haven't read the book, I hope you will. It's not very long - 210 pages. I know it will touch your heart as you read and if you don't cry somewhere in there, you missed the lessons. 

God is so good to give us the gift of friendship. Just like Morrie and Mitch were put into each other's lives for a reason, Kathie and I were as well. Don't take your friendships for granted. Say what you want to say before you don't have time to say it. Living with regret is never easy.  

The Most Important Possession I own

Gifts. I've never met anyone who didn't enjoy receiving one. For generations it's been customary to give gifts for special occasions. Most Americans give gifts for birthdays, anniversaries, and religious holidays. There's normally a lot of thought that goes into the gift giving process. One might consider a person's hobbies or interests as they choose a gift or perhaps a person has created a shareable wish list of items on Amazon or some other app. Sometimes, a gift is chosen merely because the giver thinks the receiver will enjoy it, and most times, the gift is given out of love instead of obligation. But have you ever given a gift to someone just because? Those types of gifts are so special and I'd like to tell you about one I received about 18 years ago. 

At that time, I was working for a mega church in Atlanta. As a member of the church's counseling team, I had the joy of combining my faith and work daily. Our department was fairly small and led by an ex-priest who'd converted to Christianity. It was a wonderful, tight knit group and we felt like family. We truly loved, appreciated, encouraged, and supported one another. Praying together at the start of each day and often in the middle of the day welded our hearts and grew our faith. As with many office staff groups, we'd do occasional lunches together, celebrate each other's birthdays, and whenever someone was going through a challenging time, we'd share tears. Over the many years I was there, we came to know each other extremely well. 

One day, one of the staff, a sister in Christ, called me into her office. I stood in front of her desk as she said, "I have a gift for you." A look of surprise must have spread across my face as she handed me a new hardcover Bible. At first, I wondered why she was giving me a new Bible. I had a whole collection of them including the first one I'd ever received as a child 59 years ago when I was baptized. She must have guessed what I was thinking and said, "This one is different. It incorporates more depth of meaning by adding both Hebrew and Greek to the translation." That peaked my interests. I didn't have an Amplified Bible in my collection. Graciously, I accepted the gift and went back to my office to open the book. I wanted to dig in and see what she was talking about. For over an hour, during slack time in my schedule, I read that new Bible. It was so different from the other translations I had in my collection and since that day, that specific Bible has become my favorite. 

I've used that specific Bible every single day for the past 18 years studying God's Word diligently. I've highlighted and underlined it, shed many tears onto the pages, recorded family deaths and births in it, packed notes into every margin inside it, and kept special mementos like drawings from my grandchildren, or pressed flowers inside it. In essence, it contains the story of my faith walk. I do use the other Bibles in my collection often, too, but they don't compare to this one. And if there were ever a fire in my home, that would be the one thing I'd grab as I dashed out the door. 

The Bible my friend gave me is all but falling apart now. I've taped it together over and over again but I still love it. One day, I hope one of my children will ask for it as I'm nearing my death and as they read through it, I hope they'll discover how God has been my constant Companion, my source of Strength, and my One True Love. 

Many people have Bibles sitting on their shelves. They don't pick them up and read them because they find the wording hard to understand and absorb. Some think the book is antiquated so they avoid it, but let me tell you, you'll never truly know God if you don't read the Bible. It's His love letter to us. It not only tells us Who He is, but shows us, through the various authors chosen by Him to write it for us, that He wants a personal relationship with us. 

How can you know a friend if you don't talk to them and allow them to talk to you? The Bible speaks. As we read it, our Spirit communes with the heart of God and He speaks to us.  

I'm so thankful my friend was generous enough to give me the gift of a new Bible that day. I'm sure she didn't think much about it. She was probably doing it to be nice and bless our friendship, but I'm so honored she chose me to be the recipient of such a perfect gift. 

Do you have Bibles just sitting somewhere in your home? Maybe you have a translation you don't feel comfortable reading and that's what keeps you away from it. If so, next time you visit a bookstore, look for one you like. There are so many available but I'd like to admonish you - be careful. Some are not accurate translations. Some are paraphrased. If you really want to dig in and get the meat off the bones, so to speak, try an Amplified version. I think you'll find, like I did, that it causes you to hunger for more. And that might just lead you to start doing word studies of both the Hebrew and the Greek. If you don't enjoy reading, there are many audio Bibles available. Whatever method you choose to study God's Word, make a point of doing it and do it daily. It will change your life, empower your walk as a believer, strengthen your faith, and draw you so much closer to God. And if you have a special occasion coming up, a Bible just might be the perfect gift.

 

When a friend reaches out after a cancer diagnosis

When a good friend reached out to tell me of her cancer diagnosis, treatment plan, and next steps, I felt like I was going to relive my cancer experience as she went through hers. It felt like a type of cancer déjà vu. I didn’t like it but knew she needed me to help her navigate those first days post diagnosis.

I heard Messenger ping as the notification came through on my cell phone. One of my high school friends was reaching out to let me know she’d received a date for surgery and her treatment plan.

Several weeks before, she’d let me know she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. I was sorry to hear it and gave her my sympathies but also my love and support as I assured her, I’d be with her every step of the way.

She told me what the surgeon had said she’d need not only to have her breast removed, but also some lymph nodes. My heart went out to her, though our diagnoses were slightly different, they were very much the same.

I penciled in her surgery date on my calendar and made a mental note to pray for her that day. I also wanted to check in after surgery was over, so I circled a day later that week in red. That way I’d be reminded to call and talk with her.

She told me she’d have 4-5 rounds of radiation and would then have a port installed for chemotherapy. As I read her words, they were so matter of fact, I knew, as I read between the lines, she was in shock, the same as I had been when I received my treatment plan.

She said after radiation and chemo was over, she’d start antihormone therapy. I asked which drug her doctor had recommended and she said Arimidex. That’s when the feeling of Déjà vu became even stronger. I’d been on the same one until I couldn’t tolerate it.

I did my best to give her a nutshell version of what to expect as each aspect of her treatment occurred. I knew she’d appreciate my sharing personal experiences with her.

After she thanked me and we ended our conversation, I paused to remember a certain week, almost 10 years ago, when I got the same type of news. It was an extremely hard day. The whole week I walked around in disbelief.

I didn’t have anyone to tell me what to expect, though I wished I did. It would have been so helpful to have known ahead of time what was coming my way.

I was thankful I was able to give my friend a heads up. And not only did I do that, I told her she had a right to ask for a second opinion and could refuse any part of the treatment plan she didn’t feel best suited for her.

Little things like the message I received can spark memories of my active time in cancer land. While I’d much rather forget my time there, I’m also thankful I can use those days to support and inform the newly diagnosed.

Cancer Déjà vu, I don’t know if it really exists or not. It’s just a phrase I coined to explain the way I felt when my friend reached out, but I’m sure those who’ve experienced cancer will know what I mean when I say that.

It’s hard to relive time in cancer land. The feelings of “been there, done that” aren’t ones we enjoy, but those feelings are real and may pop up when someone we love and care about goes through a similar situation.

As a good friend, I think it’s important to share openly and honestly as we remember our own journey, but not to overwhelm someone with things they don’t need to know.

 

Can you be sad but happy at the same time?

 I'm conflicted. This morning I woke up and read my emails before getting out of bed. It's a bad habit and I keep telling myself I won't do it any more, but I do. I can't help it. I'm a multi-tasker, always have been, always will be. Anyway, as I was reading, I almost skipped over a notification telling me a friend had recently made a new blog post. I don't know why, but sometimes I just find it hard to get sucked into the problems of others. I have plenty of my own. Thankfully, I didn't skip it. This email notification was different. Not only did it alert me to the fact that my friend had made a recent blog post, it also told me she was no longer living. Yes, you read that right...she was no longer living. 

Apparently my sweet friend, Jen, had thought ahead. She'd been planning for this day. She knew it was coming. 

You see, we were both diagnosed with the exact stage and grade of breast cancer. I was diagnosed in June 2014 and she was diagnosed in August of 2014. I was 56, she was 41. I had 4 grown children, she had 3 teenage daughters. She lived up North. I lived down South. There were a lot of differences between us but there were so many similarities, too. Besides sharing the commonality of breast cancer, we were also fellow believers in Jesus Christ. He was our life and our faith in Him is what helped us navigate the scary and uncertain world of breast cancer. 

I'm sad to say that Jen and I took different routes in our cancer treatment. She chose to go the conventional route - surgery, chemo, radiation, and anti-hormone therapy. I chose the more natural route although I did have surgery and endured 28 rounds of radiation, I have tried to manage my health with supplements and vitamins and whole foods. 

Jen and I compared notes often through emails and letters. It helped to know someone else understood the fears and frustrations that came along with the silver plated diagnosis we both never expected to receive. And that's why it hurts so much to know she's gone.I've ticked off another box in the long list of friends who've gone ahead to be with the Lord. And I can't help but wonder why I'm still here...

Tom and Jen

But it's just like everything else with cancer. Nothing makes sense. 

This year has been tough. Not only has Covid wreaked havoc on our world, I keep losing friends and family members to cancer. It hurts. I won't lie, it hurts really bad. "Dying is a part of living, but only a very small part," says Ashleigh Brilliant and she's right. As a believer in Jesus Christ, I know this life is only temporary. My eternal life has yet to begin. 

I'm honored and thankful to have known Jennifer Small. She was a good friend. Please pray for her family in the days ahead as they shift into living without her. And if you've never thought about where you'll spend eternity, please do. There are only 2 places you can go - to Heaven or to Hell. I'd much rather see you in Heaven than dream of you being eternally tortured in Hell. The decision is yours and yours alone to make. No one else can make it for you. Don't know how? It's easy: 

Making sense of breast cancer

Bonnie has the rabbit pin on her shirt

 

Today is the third anniversary of my friend, Bonnie's death. A post I'd written about it popped up in my Facebook memories. I'd almost forgotten about today being the anniversary of her death, but Facebook is so good to remind me year after year. 

It's so hard to make sense of cancer. When my friend, Bonnie Ferguson, and I met, shortly after I was diagnosed with breast cancer, she told me she was a 22 year survivor. That gave me such hope. My diagnosis was barely two weeks prior and I was so scared. Knowing that she'd beaten breast cancer helped me be less fearful. 

But then, at the midpoint of my radiation treatments, Bonnie began to come and go more frequently. I'd see her little golf cart coming up the gravel road by our house and I wondered where she was going. One day, on her way back from the produce market down the road, she saw me out in the yard and stopped to give me some tomatoes. We talked for a few minutes and then she dropped the bomb. After 22 years, her cancer was back. 

I don't know if it did, but I felt my jaw drop. How could the cancer return after 22 years? I was dumbfounded. And that's when the fear for my own mortality kicked in. Was I fooling myself to think I'd actually survive cancer and live a long and happy life? 

Understanding cancer is like trying to pick up a drop of mercury from a dropped thermometer. (If you're as old as I am, you'll remember they used to be glass and held a large drop of mercury in them. If, by some chance you dropped the thermometer and it broke, the liquid mercury would slide into many different sized balls of silver, impossible to gather together and clean up.)

I have several I love right now facing cancer battles. They're all in various stages and all have different outlooks on their future. At first glance, a person with no cancer experience would think they're doing quite well and fighting the good fight, but for one with a personal history of cancer, the truth is so evident. 

There's no understanding cancer. It is no respecter of persons. 

And yet, those in the fight choose to keep on fighting, because they want to live. 

Bonnie was that way. She did what she had to do to survive and though she gave it her best shot, cancer won. 

This year, I'll celebrate my 7th cancerversary. I'm looking forward to that day, but I'm not naive. In the next week I'll have a bone scan to check for possible metastasis to my spine. And while I pray for a good report, I know the good hand I've been dealt may suddenly be snatched away. 

The only thing a person affected by cancer can do is live one day at a time. That's all we've been given anyway. The Bible says God's mercies are new every morning and it also says we're not to worry about tomorrow. Those two reminders help me get through each day. 

So today, as I look out on this cold, gray day, I'll remember my friend, Bonnie. Her life was colorful and fun. She loved to garden and share her plants. She loved to paint and share her art. She loved people and shared herself. 

I am blessed to have made her acquaintance and I'm thankful she took time to let me be a part of her life.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34

Cancer is so hard

 Last night, I got a text from a friend of mine who's going through chemo. He's having a really hard time and has been struggling through treatment but was more concerned about how his wife was faring than how he was doing. As I read his message, I could "hear" his worry and fear. 

At his request, I called his wife. She had no idea he'd asked me for this favor. 

As we talked, I let her lead the conversation. I knew, from past experience, she needed a friend and needed to be heard. 

I listened as she poured out her heart. Without coming right out and saying it, she was afraid of what would happen in the near future. She was terrified of being alone. And I couldn't blame her. Her husband's prognosis is grim. 

My heart broke as I listened. She tried to hide her tears but I could hear them. Mingled with my own, we cried together. 

I tried to reassure her none of us are promised tomorrow and that we can only focus on today. I reminded her of Scripture that says we're not to worry about tomorrow. 

She told me she'd been having a very bad day. She'd been faced with spiritual and emotional attack. I explained the feelings she was having were normal and it was okay to feel them but to remember God had promised never to leave or forsake her. 

We talked for a long time. By the end of the conversation, I could tell she was doing better. It's cathartic to pour out feelings sometimes, I said, and offered to be available whenever she needed to talk.

I'm so thankful she trusted me enough to share her deepest fears and concerns but I'm so very sad for my friends. I've been on both sides of cancer and neither of them are easy. 

If there was a way I could take the pain away, I would in a heartbeat but all I can do right now is be available. I promised her I'd give a listening ear whenever she needed it and I meant it. 

If you can, please say a prayer for these two dear friends. I won't share their names to protect their privacy but God knows who they are. 

I hate cancer so much. I wish we could find a way to cure it. Maybe one of these days scientists will figure it out. Until then, we just have to muddle through.

It's so hard to understand

My inbox was full of messages. As I was going through the process of deleting the unnecessary ones, one in particular caught my eye. It was an update from a pink sister. I'd subscribed to her blog and she's subscribed to mine. We tried to keep up with each other and often compared stories. We were both diagnosed in the same year. We both had the same type and same stage cancer.

At first, it was comforting to know we were in the fight together. At each small success, we encouraged and cheered each other on, but recently, things have changed. Her cancer has progressed. She is now stage 4 and as far as I know, I still remain stage 2B.

This week, she'll start again with chemo and radiation. The treatment will be aggressive. She's scared, and rightly so. I'm scared, too. The prognosis doesn't sound good.

It's so hard to understand how two people, with such similar health diagnoses, can have such different paths. We're both Christ followers and have trusted Him to guide us on our journeys. And while we may not always understand His ways, we know He is Sovereign. He has a plan and a purpose for each of our lives. He works all things out for our good, even painful trials like cancer.

My heart hurts. One friend is nearing the end of her journey and another is just beginning hers. On February 11th I'll find out where I stand. Would you please say a prayer for J, M, and me? We sure could use your love and support.

Cancer is such a difficult trial. We still hope for a cure. Perhaps one day, there will be one.

A beautiful and interesting stranger

I'm a firm believer that nothing happens randomly in God's world. He orchestrates everything and His timing is always perfect. Today was a prime example of that fact. I was able to have a lovely one hour and 41 minute phone call with a complete stranger! Well, she's kinda sorta. The fact that we've never met in person makes her a physical stranger to me but we've corresponded via Facebook messenger and email for a couple of months so she's not a total stranger.

Some months ago, I received a Facebook message requesting information about an article I'd written. I always respond to those types of messages because I know God has used me in the past to minister His love to others and I always want to be available to help someone in need. It was interesting to me since I live in the sunny South and she lives across the country. Our paths would never have crossed other than with God's divine intervention.

As we talked, it felt like we'd known each other a long time. There was a common bond through our breast cancer stories but there was something deeper. It was a spiritual connection. We both knew and loved the Lord. It was so wonderful to share our faith and how that's impacted out journeys.

I'm sure we'll touch base again soon and our friendship will grow. I'm so thankful God cares about the little details in our lives as well as the big ones. His timing is always impeccable. I am so grateful for the gift of friendship even if it's with a beautiful and interesting stranger.