Thursday, May 22, 2008

In front of me are two stacks of papers. One is the itinerary for Abby's trip to France with her French club. Pairs, Loire, the Riviera--she is going to Provence! She'll see the Louvre, stand on the top of the Eiffel Tower, try to find that organic bakery that kel told us about--she will be where I have only dreamed to go. Never in my life did I believe that France would be so ---accessible.

The other stack is all the notes I have taken while talking to my mother. She really doesn't want to know exactly this cancer is about, and no one else does either. The doctor said chemo, so that's what she's doing. Because of the privacy issue, the doctor's staff can't share information with me--not a thing. NOT ANYTHING. And I want to know. EVERYTHING. That's how I deal with issues--get as much info as possible. And now I'm hitting a brick wall because no one in my family has asked any questions. This is the way they deal with crisis--not dealing with it at all.

Just a little history (without the boring details): no, I am not close with my family. At all. I talk with my brother, which is frustrating, as he is a traditional complementarian--he talks to me like I'm simple and he has all the answers because he is a man, made in God's image, and I am a woman, made to glorify man. My insights are met with correction and doubt. He has a good heart, which keeps me from biting his head off...there is no communication with my two sisters or my father--the level of bitterness and hatred from them is unreal and my father--well, he just isn't safe.

What I do know is that my mother has a recurrence cancer in her spine and internal organs. The doctor did advise that my nephew, Justin, come home sooner than later to see his granma--like right now. This was met with puzzlement from my brother: "Why is he coming right now? Why not wait until later when she is better?" Is this faith or denial?

I had a dream/vision at 2:50 exactly on Monday morning. I saw the clock, I was awake--but I was speaking to the cancer in my mother's body. We were in the same place, that cancer and me. "I don't believe you," I said to it. "You are not bigger than my faith. I am in Christ, Christ is in me, and you have no power."
And it spoke back: "But we have permission."

When I think I'm going under
Part the waters Lord.
When I feel the waves around me
Calm the sea.
When I cry for help
O here me Lord
and hold out Your hand.
Touch my life
Still the raging storm in me.

8 comments:

Heidi Renee May 22, 2008 at 8:48 AM  

I am so sorry - the trauma of having a loved one endure so much is horrible. Did you know your mother can give the doctor permission to talk with you? There should be at least one family member included in this loop - especially if her care/treatment becomes too much for her physical/mental abilities.

I will be praying that you can be let in the loop. I know it changes very little in the big scheme of things, but the knowledge that we have all the information we need is so important. Holding you in the light today.

wilsonian May 22, 2008 at 3:43 PM  

"But we have permission."

Oh. my. goodness.
All the little hairs stood up on my arms when I read that.
Am left wondering... permission from whom?
Wondering if the permission is from your Mom... if unforgiveness or bitterness are giving this a place to grow.
Or not.
Am thankful that our Lord is keeping you in the loop, even if the doctors aren't.

Kel May 24, 2008 at 2:40 AM  

What a stack of stuff you have been dealing with!

Having journeyed with my dad through prostate cancer, and dealing with my own liver tumour diagnosis, I understand why "being in the loop" and having "information" is important for you.

I hope your mother will let you in, and give YOU "permission" to be with her in the journey.

ps: re the lighter stack of paper, wishing Abby the most amazing trip. AuRevoir!

Patchouli May 24, 2008 at 6:03 AM  

Your words/thoughts/prayers are a drink of cold Water!

I have been talking with my mother daily--a change from the last few years. The one condition I made is that we do NOT discuss past wounds--she carries guilt... actually, guilt has been her life-force--the "permission" I believe. My brother keeps talking of a reconciliation of the family, which is absolutely not on the table for me. Forgiveness is one thing, having dinner together is something else entirely.

Kansas Bob May 24, 2008 at 10:12 AM  

I had this thought when I finished reading your post P.. not even sure it is theologically sound/accurate but I will share it with you and trust you to reject it if it doesn't resonate with your heart:

Sometimes forgiveness allows me to heal.
Sometmes reconciliation allows you to heal.


Rejoicing with you about Abby's trip P.. and trusting Jesus to help you sort out all of the pain and bad stuff. You are one amazing woman!

Patchouli May 25, 2008 at 8:35 PM  

KB, I don't reject what you have offered--and thank you for offering and not "instructing."

Reconciliation with my family and me has been a theme for a number of years with the church I left; they want me to take my place in submission to my father and brother. My mother and I talk daily now, which I hope will help ease her discomfort.

Kansas Bob May 26, 2008 at 7:24 AM  

I think that it is sad when submission is demanded.. I have had church leaders demand my submission.. I no longer pay attention to these types.. biblical submission is always voluntary and involves submitting to one who unconditionally loves us.

Mark D February 16, 2009 at 4:33 PM  

Wow, so much to say but no words that will say it. For now, I will simply pray. I've been there, so I know much of the load you must be carrying.