I Hurt

I'm going to admit right up front.  It's been a pretty crappy last few weeks.  

It seems like everywhere I turn, each week I am being greeted by news that heads straight to the heart, straight to the gut. 

I am sick and tired of hearing about people I am close to having cancer, I am tired of friends having strokes, I have had it up to here with dementia, and I am devastated that people I love are having to leave their homes for assisted living because it is safer and in some cases they just can't take care of themselves the way they want to.

I hurt for the Darwin family.  Last night (Tuesday) I read a post on Facebook by Tara saying the doctors have told her and Steve they have stopped cancer treatments, and they have now begun hospice care at home.

I don't know, maybe that was the straw that broke the camel's back for me.  I cried.  For several minutes. I cried for Steve and his long, valiant fight, and for Tara and the kids.  Tara reminds me so much of my mother, taking care of Steve like my mom took care of my dad when he had cancer 16 years ago.

I hurt for Donnie and Janet Daugherty.   M and I have been in the Shoals for 11 years, and Donnie has been my friend for 10 of them.  We eat breakfast together every week.  We talk about football (his fave), or baseball (my fave), we talk about Janet or M, our kids and grandkids.  We talk about church, and we've talked about things I'll take to the grave without telling a soul.  

Janet had brain surgery two weeks ago to remove a benign tumor the size of your fist from behind her right eye.  About 24 hours later she had a stroke, which, considering the seriousness of the surgery, the doctor said was very possible.  It was touch and go for a couple of days, but Janet survived the stroke.  But she now faces what could be a year of rehab.  It has completely changed their life in more ways than I can describe in this space.

I hurt for my brother-in-law Stan Dauck.  Stan is married to Marilyn's youngest sister, Millie.  Last Tuesday, the first day M and I had started a little getaway in Panama City Beach, we received word that Stan's brother, Johnnie, who lives in northeast Arkansas, was being rushed to the hospital.  He had what was believed to be a UTI and possibly kidney stones, and it appeared sepsis had reared its ugly and often fatal head.  Less than 12 hours later, before they could transport Johnnie from Jonesboro to Little Rock, he died.  He was 66 years old.

I hurt for Joy Winn.  Joy is one of the sweetest, most loving individuals I have ever known in my entire life.  There is no one who is more aptly named than Joy.  I cannot express how much I love and appreciate her.  Joy has beaten cancer once, but now, she is going to have to beat it again.  Her attitude, just like Steve and Tara's, Donnie and Janet's is positive.  I worry about her, but I really shouldn't.  She is ready for whatever God has in store for her.

I hurt for Ann Staggs.  I have mentioned her before.  She and her husband Don are retired and live in the Austin, Texas area.   They lived in St. Louis when we did, and Ann is my mother's dearest friend on the earth.  Don and Ann are both in their mid-80's, and Ann has been using a walker for some time.  But she is not a defeatist; just within the pasr week she walked a mile using  her walker on the treadmill.  But this past Friday, Ann was working out at the gym she and Don use, and she fell face first on the ground.  Fortunately she did not break any facial bones.  She did strain a shoulder, and there are other minor injuries.  Her face looks like she went 12 rounds with Mike Tyson.  She will be heading to rehab this week for an extended stay.

Finally, I hurt for my mother and step-father Tom.  A few days back they made the difficult decision to move out of their condo into a retirement/assisted living facility.  They made the same decision about a month ago, but changed their minds within a couple of days.  But this time they mean it.  They actually hope to move within the next two weeks.  Tom has dementia,  It is manageable for my mother to take care of him most days.  We are grateful Tom is not to the point where he has forgotten everything, but still it can be difficult at times.  Mom has her own health issues as I have discussed in the past.  But now, just a couple of months before they both celebrate their 89th birthdays, they are leaving.

The last couple of days Mom has talked about what she is going to take, what will she leave behind.  Is there anything I want, anything Marilyn wants?  Should she have an estate sale or garage sale, when should they sell the condo?  I listen, try to encourage her, but I am sad.  When I go back to St. Louis for a visit, there will not be a home waiting for me.  Their apartment at the assisted living does not have a stove.  Meals are provided as part of the cost.  No more making cookies or brownies at midnight, no more roasts for Sunday dinner, no more Boston Brown Bread.  No more sitting in the living room surrounded by memories of my life.  It bothers me.

God never planned for us to live forever.  We have all known that most of our lives.  But while we know we won't live forever on this earth, we expect those around us to.  After all, I have a great-aunt who is 102 and still lives by herself.

But then God nudges us, wakes us up, and reminds us that we are indeed mortal.  When things change unexpectedly, when friends or family die, or your mother has to move because she can't be Superwoman anymore, when all of that hits you within a few weeks, it hurts. 

As I cried tonight after reading Tara's post, I looked at M, and I said, "Why?  When is it going to stop?"  I know in my heart it will never stop.  That is not the way God designed things.  His will, his perfect will, will always be done.  Unless the Lord returns first, we are all going to die.   It is ok to grieve and wonder when the bad news will cease and when the heartache will stop.

It is ok to hurt.

Blessings my friends.  See you down the road.  Lord willing.