I am not ready to say good-bye
It is so cruel having a conversation about prolonging the life of a 31 year old. Doctors don't think Mel has years left. When measuring the amount of time he has left, they are thinking in terms of months, maybe even weeks. I can close my eyes and imagine life before cancer stormed into our home. And I wish that I could squeeze my eyes tight enough and wake up to find that this has only been a nightmare. I don't know why the diagnosis on December 30, 2014 had to be cancer. I don't know why some rapist, racist or murderer couldn't have been given the diagnosis instead.
It is hard to describe in words how painful it is to hear doctors tell you that they don't think your amazing spouse will live that much longer. A few days ago Mel had a dream that he was in heaven appearing before God. He said it was such a beautiful thing. And my heart breaks thinking that this year can end with that dream becoming a reality.
I believe that God can do anything. I believe with all of my heart that even though doctor's have given up hope, God can step in and turn this situation around. And even though Mel and I talk and proclaim our faith in God that doesn't mean this situation doesn't break our hearts. It is excruciating hearing bad reports after bad reports. We like to jump and shout when miracles are performed but when you are that family in need of a miracle time and time again the pain is intense. Within the last two years we have been told multiple times that cancer has spread. We have witnessed become paralyzed. We saw a wound developed in the hospital increase in size. We have gone to the emergency room on multiple occasions because Mel's blood levels were so low. We are in a very difficult position.
And I don't know if you can ever prepare to say good-bye. I know God can heal. I know that this situation does not scare Him. I know that even when all seems bleak to man, God can step in and intervene. I know all of that. But I also know there are times when a person prays, a multitude prays, the church prays and God doesn't heal. It doesn't mean He isn't God. It doesn't mean He didn't see the intense pain of those who were interceding. It doesn't mean He can't do it. It doesn't mean He lost control of the situation. It just means He chose not to heal.
And I know that there is a chance that God may not heal my husband. I know there is a chance that his time here on earth is coming to a close. And that breaks my heart in a way I can't describe. I am not ready to say good-bye. I can't imagine having to raise Hannah and Malachi without their dad. I am not ready to go from a family of 4 to a family of 3. I don't want our off-to church pictures to include just the kids and me. I can't imagine a life where I don't get to talk to my husband on a daily basis. I can't imagine there will be a time where I can't hold his hand. I can't imagine the pain my children will experience not having a dad as they grow up.
I know God will give us strength. I know He will comfort us if we enter into a season of mourning. I know He will wrap His arm around us and give us peace. I understand and know all of that. But death is painful. As much as one can take comfort knowing the person they love is in heaven, those they leave behind do hurt. I don't want to say good-bye. I don't want to experience the pain of loss. I don't want my children to experience the pain of missing out on so many wonderful memories.
But if God choses not to heal I will live my life in the words my husband said right after his diagnosis
"God no matter what you are good."