A Time of War Part 2- To Every Thing a Season Chpt. 13

Time-it was something that we wanted more of, yet it was something that we abhorred. We knew our time with Sandra was short, yet more time only meant more suffering. If we could only stop the progression of the cancer just enough to keep her alive...just long enough to see Stephanie's baby....If...If....If....


Our lives were riddled with problems. In the midst of Sandra's illness and surgery to correct the colon blockage, Kevin and I had a huge obstacle to overcome. We suddenly found ourselves without a vehicle.


It was a Monday, January 30, 2006. We had been in Camden the weekend before, and I was doing my Monday run to the bank. The children and I loaded up in the minivan, went to the bank, and headed to the interstate to grab some lunch. We ordered at McDonald's and headed back to our humble little abode, also known as, the Church basement.


It was raining pretty steady, and just as I was about to turn into the Church parking lot, I noticed a red truck sitting in front of the Church. This concerned me just like it would concern anyone else that came home to a strange vehicle in their driveway. I was so caught up in trying to figure out who was in the red truck, I began turning into the Church parking lot without noticing that a car was coming. I was hit nearly head on. I saw the car just moments before impact, but it was too late.


Fortunately, we were unharmed, but the van was totaled. I mean, smashed to pieces. If there were any humor to the story, it would have been the fact that passengers of the vehicle I hit were two lawyers. They were very kind and helpful, and most of all, they didn't sue me for failing to yield the right of way.


But the whole ordeal left us in a quandary. We had to borrow a vehicle to visit my dying mother in law, at least until the insurance and the gap coverage paid off the van. Things weren't impossible, they were just more difficult. We especially didn't want to make Sandra feel like we were being put in a bad spot by coming to visit her every week. The last thing we wanted was to have her feeling guilty about us being there. And a borrowed vehicle would definitely make her feel that way.


The month of January was a whirlwind of events for Sandra. Her stay in the hospital was extended, with friends and family members constantly coming by to see Sandra. There was an overwhelming amount of people visiting her, but at times, it was just too much. It seemed that all of the "friends" thought they were her best friends, therefore trying to "make" Sandra eat just for them. It was frustrating to watch. There were times I just wanted to ask everyone to leave, but I was just a daughter in law-I had no right to do that.


It seems like Sandra's suffering would never end. Once the blockage was addressed, another issue cropped up. This time, we were all bracing ourselves. During all the testing to find her blockage, the doctor's had discovered a blood clot in Sandra's lung. It was sure to be fatal, with little or no warning. Up to this point, the doctors had not told Sandra or us how long she had to live. All we knew was that her cancer was "aggressive." But the news of the blood clot was something that could not be hidden.


One afternoon a couple of days after the blockage surgery, Dr. McElveen (and associate of Dr. Babcock) met us in the hallway outside of Sandra's hospital room wearing the gravest expression on his face. Jackie, Kevin, and I had already decided that we weren't' going to settle for vague answers: we needed to know how long Sandra had.


Dr. McElveen said, "I'm so sorry! It's terribly bad. I'm afraid it's worse than any of us can imagine."


"How long does she have? We need to know," Kevin said in a weak, trembling voice.


"It's hard to say. It's incurable-nothing we can do but make her comfortable."


"We need to know, and we WANT to know," I said, trying to be brave for my husband.


Jackie spoke up and said, "Doc, these are her children. Be straight with us for their sake. How long? It can't be very long, but how long?"


Dr. McElveen looked down and swallowed. "Anywhere from 3 weeks to three months. Six months at the longest, but I don't expect it to be that long. She is very sick. I'm so sorry." Upon those words, he shook our hands and patted our shoulders. I could sense the pity in his eyes, along with the look of helplessness.


As the doctor left us standing in the hallway outside Sandra's room, Kevin turned away and began to sob like a child. His face....oh his face looked just like a tender child who had lost his way in a department store, and his eyes cried deeper than the tears that steamed down his cheeks. It's as if his eyes were saying, "Where's my mommy? Where's my mommy? I need my mommy!" The look was not grief alone; it was pain. All the years of the motherly love and comfort that he had so enjoyed would soon be coming to an end.


One by one, Jackie, Kevin, and I pulled ourselves together so we could go back into Sandra's room. Dr. McElveen had told Sandra about the blood clot in her lung. Sandra's countenance was one of resignation. She informed us that she would like to talk to the children the next day. Stephanie, Kevin, and Jackie had some things they needed to say to Sandra, and she had some things she needed to say to them.

A Time of War Part 1- To Every Thing a Season Chpt. 13

After our time with Kevin's family, we headed back to Georgia to celebrate Christmas at home. I had been under so much stress and pressure, a normal sinus infection had reduced me to a hollow eyed shell of a person. I was so sick that Kevin and I celebrated Christmas with our kids on Christmas Eve, something completely against our tradition.

Christmas Day fell on a Sunday, but I was so sick I was unable to attend church that day. I had huge plans to bake several cakes, several pies, and our usual Christmas Day finger foods. I didn't have the strength to get out of the bed. Kevin spent Sunday afternoon between services baking and cooking; he wanted to hold true to our tradition! Since we lived at the church, we had invited any and every one to stay after service Sunday night to have some desserts and finger foods.

But I was completely unable to get out of bed. The festivities I so loved couldn't even motivate me. I had been nursing a terrible sinus infection for several weeks, and with all the heath issues, stress, and traveling, I had succumbed to the infection like it was the plague.

I was also heartbroken. With the friends in our church just a few feet away, I laid in the bed-knowing that there were families that were missing that year. The people that had left in July and August weren't part of our Christmas...I didn't like it one bit. My heart yearned for things to be as they had always been, but that would never happen. One of the families that left had always, ALWAYS, purchased gifts for me, Kevin, and our children. It didn't matter how much money they did or didn't have. They ALWAYS gave us gifts. It was a gesture of gratitude that genuinely made me feel loved. It wasn't the gift or the price; it was the thought. As a Pastor's wife, it humbled me and made me happy to know that someone cared enough to go above and beyond. But that special element was missing. And I felt like any thoughts they had of us this year was hopelessly negative.

The New Year rolled around, and after a visit to the doctor, I slowly began to get over the sinus infection. We had talked to Sandra and Jackie a few days after the New Year to see how their Christmas get together with Sandra's family had gone. They all had a wonderful time! Aunt Linda had even said that Sandra seemed so happy that aside from seeing her in a wheelchair, it was as if she had never been sick. In fact, Linda told me that while Sandra was sitting at the dinner table, it wasn't noticeable that she was bound by a wheelchair. Sandra laughed and talked with her mother, brother, and sister-in-law around the table. No one would have ever known how sick she was, and for just one evening, the awful nightmare seemed to be the farthest thing from reality.

With the New Year came more appointments with the oncologist and the spine doctor. Since Sandra's oncologist could arrange local appointments at the county hospital, we didn't have to drive far for her routine appointments. We had arrived in Camden on our usual day-Tuesday. Kevin's employer was very good to him, but he had used all of his personal leave time. Any time taken off of work would be excused under the Family Medical Leave Act, but it would be without pay. Even though we didn't have a house payment at the time, it made things difficult for us. A cut in income was hard to sustain, but we wanted to be at as many appointments as possible.

We took Sandra to the hospital on Thursday to see Dr. Babcock. He had prescribed several medications for Sandra, all of which had to be regulated and adjusted from time to time. Jackie and I helped Sandra get on the examination table. She had difficulty laying flat on her back, so she sat up until the doctor came in room.

As he began the examination, she gingerly laid back on the table. The primary concern was her inability to walk. The radiation treatments on her spine were completed, and the next step was more therapy, including hydrotherapy. Dr. Babcock raised and lowered Sandra's legs one at a time. With her right leg in the air at a 45 degree angle, he moved her right foot toward her head. Her foot began to twitch uncontrollably. Dr. Babcock referred to this as clonus, an involuntary muscle contraction that could be caused from spinal cord damage or worse, a neurological problem.

Jackie and I stepped out of the examination area and spoke with Dr. Babcock.

"That's not a good sign, sir," said the doctor. He explained that even though the cancer was gone from her spine, there could be damage that would keep her from walking. The only remedy, if that were the case, would be another surgery. Jackie cringed at the words...there was no way Sandra would consent to another surgery. And all of us knew how devastating it would be for Sandra to learn that without surgery, she would never walk. Jackie decided almost immediately to keep this news from Sandra.

The doctor did adjust her pain medication. It seemed that Sandra was constantly nauseated and unable to eat. He determined that her pain medicine was too strong. But in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if the real source of the problem was the mass that had been found on her gal bladder that had not yet been addressed.

Sandra's nausea had become worse. She had no appetite, which worried us all. She would occasionally ask for potato soup. I would try to make it as quickly as possible, but she usually could not wait the 45 minutes it took to make it. She would moan and cry because of the pain in her stomach. I felt so guilty for not having her soup ready in a shorter amount of time. I felt so powerless to help her and meet her needs.

As the month of January passed by, Sandra's needs outgrew her help. Jackie decided to hire a nurse for the evening shift. The need for 24 hour care was evident. It signaled a steady decline in Sandra's condition. She was inevitable getting worse.

Even with 24 hour care, Sandra couldn't maintain a level of comfort. She had begun to throw up after every meal,even if she only ate a small amount. Not only was she vomiting every time she ate, she had also stopped having bowel movements. After only a few days of being unable to digest her food, she was admitted to her local hospital to be evaluated.

Sandra spent several weeks in the hospital. There were constant x-rays, CT scans, and bloodwork. Sometimes x-rays were taken twice a day. Sandra grew weary of all the testing; it seemed that none of her issues were being resolved by subjecting herself to all the needles and cold CT tables. She began to act very rude towards the nurses and orderlies. We tried our best to encourage her to behave, but she was tired of the endless testing.

One afternoon I was alone with Sandra at the hospital. Jackie had to work, and Kevin and the children had to go to his mother's house to get some much needed rest. Sandra was having a great deal of abdominal pain. We knew it was stemming from whatever was preventing her from holding down any food. While I was trying to give Sandra some water, she began to cry out in pain. It was obvious how much pain she was feeling, for her cry was one of terror. I frantically buzzed for the nurse. I'm not sure the nurses station could hear me talk; Sandra's sobbing cries surely drowned out the sound of my voice.

Her cry sounded like a person being tortured, and torture it was to hear it! I grabbed her hands and said, "Call on God, Sandra. Call on Jesus Christ!"

As I said those words, a CNA came running into the room. I fell on my knees beside Sandra's hospital bed and began to pray fervently for God to help Sandra. She cried out, "Oh, Jesus, please....please help me.....I can't take this God.....please stop this pain....Oh, God....I need you!"

I felt the CNA whizzing around me, trying to get pain meds pumped into Sandra's IV. I tried to stay out of her way, but once I felt the nurse whiz by me again, I sprang to my feet. I leaned over Sandra, kissing her forehead and praying aloud that God would touch her body. Sandra's body shuddered as she sobbed. I tried to embrace her, to calm her shaking body.

Soon there was a couple of nurses in there, regulating the pain medication. Her pain subsided, and her sobs morphed into a soft whimper. Less than 15 minutes later, Sandra was pain free and resting.

With all the testing that had been done, it was determined that Sandra had a blockage that was causing the vomiting. We consulted with a surgeon, Dr. Gill. To correct the problem, surgery would be absolutely necessary.

Linda B. knew Dr. Gill very well. She assured the family that he was a competent surgeon. The surgery was performed within a day. The family anxiously awaited any news Dr. Gill would have for us.

Sandra came through the surgery fine, but the news was anything but good. Dr. Gill found the blockage: a large mass that was restricting her colon from doing it's work. Knowing the futility of removing the mass, Dr. Gill left the tumor. He simply "rearranged" her colon so that the mass wouldn't cause a blockage.

This troubled Kevin and me. Surely it would have been better to remove it. But Linda B. told us about her conversation with Dr. Gill. He said, "Everything I saw was bad. Nothing was good. Cancer was everywhere." We tried to absorb the shock of such tragic news. All of us knew her time was very limited, but Sandra didn't know that. Not yet.

A Time to Keep...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 12

Thanksgiving weekend had given us so much hope. The baby-to-be had given Sandra so much hope. There was finally something in her that was willing to try. We just had to keep it that way!

Sandra had always loved Christmas, so we really thought she would continue to make progress over the sheer joy of the season. In many ways, she did. She would be finished with radiation before Christmas, and that gave her a goal. Stephanie and her husband Brad had just purchased their first home. Sandra was determined to see Stephanie's house.

During the first week in December, we made our regular trip to Camden. Sandra was making progress, but she just couldn't see it. One afternoon was particularly bad. She had made her way to the bathroom on her own in the wheelchair, but on the way back, she scrubbed her knuckles on the door jamb. She was so angry; she just fell to pieces.

"I can't live like this! Don't expect me to! I want God to just let me die!"

We were shocked because we had seen so much progress. I quickly reminded her of all her recent accomplishments.

"Sandra, don't you see how much progress you have made? This week during physical therapy you walked on your walker all the way across the room and back."

"Yeah, but it exhausted me. I'll never be able to walk normally again!" she said.

"What about your the fact that you no longer have to wear diapers? What about the fact that you no longer have a bedside potty in the living room? You have to look at all that you've overcome. You can get to the bathroom all by yourself and you don't even have to use the boogie board (the phrase I coined for the sliding board)!"

Sandra couldn't help but smile when she heard the words 'boogie board.'

"Sandra, please look at the big picture....look at how far you have come since you left the rehabilitation center. It might be slow, but you are making progress."

Jackie looked relieved at what I was saying. It was almost as if he had suddenly realized those things himself.

The talk seemed to encourage her. In fact, less than an hour later, she did her physical therapy exercises and walked with the walker another 10 steps. I was amazed and grateful that the pep talk encouraged her to the point of taking action.

Sandra had another appointment that week with the spine doctor. He too assured all of us that with determination and hard work that Sandra had a strong likelihood of walking again. It was just what we all needed to hear. After all, encouraging her was much easier when we knew the task before her could actually be accomplished.

We had made plans to go to Stephanie's new house in Easley, SC on Saturday. It was on our way back to Georgia, which made it easier for us. Jackie and Sandra followed us separately. Kevin's heart was as light as a feather; his mom was traveling with a great big smile on her face! She was wearing new clothes, make-up on, and Euphoria sprayed on head to toe. She really seemed to feel good. And to our surprise, she had taken her walker with her.

On our way to Easley, Kevin and I talked about how happy of an event this was for Sandra. She absolutely loved to decorate, and we knew she had taken along a few things to try out in Steph's house. She had spent the previous Thrusday and Friday talking to Stephanie about things she needed in her house. They had talked about paint chips, furniture, lamps, rugs, and dishes. There was a constant stream of conversation regarding this trip.

But there was one thing that presented a major problem: Stephanie's house was two stories. Sandra would miss out on the upstairs. We tried to console her with the fact that the main rooms were downstairs, but she still wasn't happy about it. After all, the baby's nursey and the Master bedroom were upstairs. Those were huge decorating options.

When we finally arrived, Sandra was barely able to get the car door open before Stephanie was by her side helping her. Sandra wheeled her way to the front door, admiring the sodded front lawn. Once inside, Stephanie led us all through each room. Sandra gave comments about "what we need to do" and also praised Stephanie for what she had already done in her new house.

One of the first things Sandra wanted to do was rearrange the living room. Every single adult was at the mercy of the Queen in the wheelchair, moving furniture and rehanging pictures. We must have moved the couch 5 times!

There was such a sense of normalcy. This is what Sandra would have been doing, regardless of her condition. Had she been perfectly healthy, we would all be there, moving her furniture around. It was a moment to cherish. It was as it should have been....

After looking around in the kitchen and admiring the cabinets and appliances, Sandra and Stephanie set the dining room table. Since there was a breakfast area, they could have a formally set table without having to dismantle it everytime they wanted to sit down and eat. I sorted through some of Stephanie's wedding gifts that were in the down stairs hall closet. The three of us chatted and consorted over the crystal bowls and serving platters that Stephanie swore she would never have use for.

Sandra spoke up. "I want to see the upstairs."

No wonder she brought her walker.

She asked Kevin and me to help her. I was very unsure about this, but I don't think anyone had the guts to tell the woman no. Stephanie did try to tell her mother that she need not bother. We even offered to take a video of the upstairs and let her watch it on the TV. But Sandra insisted on seeing it with her own eyes. We finally gave in, for we knew she would never let it rest until she had her way.

The plan was for Sandra to hold the walker, me to stand beside her, and Kevin to stand behind her in case she fell. I was terribly nervous, but Jackie was out of the question. And with Stephanie being pregnant, we weren't about to ask her.

Sandra made it up the first 2 or 3 steps o.k. but I could tell that her ankles were getting weak. She had braces to wear, but unfortunately, we didn't know to bring them. She was straining with all her might...I honestly didn't think she would make it. There was a landing after about 6 steps...if we could just get her to that point so she could rest.

On the step right before the landing, her ankle turned completely out. I was able to catch her fall, but no one could do anything about the jolt of pain surging through her ankle and leg. We tried to convince her to come back down the stairs, but she refused. She was going to see that upstairs, if it was the last thing she did.

Once on the landing, Kevin and I held her up under each arm. She was shaking, but her resolve had not swayed one bit. She barely took a rest. We had already placed the wheelchair upstairs, so all she had left was about 8 stairs and then she could sit down!

She forced each step. Sometimes with a moan, sometimes with a cry of pain, sometimes with a shout of anger. But each and every step sounded as if she were dragging 500 pounds of dead weight. It was wearing her out, and I so badly wanted her to stop and just forget the whole idea.

She finally made it to the top. It took all her energy, but as soon as she was in that wheelchair, she was asking which bedroom was the nursery. After about 5 minutes, the stair ordeal was a forgotten memory. Sandra was enjoy her look/stay upstairs too much to worry about how hard it was to get there. My concern was, how was she getting back down? Everyone I asked wanted to evade that question.

She and Stephanie talked about the closets, window treatments, comforters...all that wonderful Mother-Daughter talk that made everything so 'normal' that day. Of course, there were things Sandra wanted to help rearrange in the bedrooms, but instead of having a team of people come up there and do it then, Sandra just gave the suggestions. Steph promised that Brad would help her with it later.

The time came when we had to eat, which meant Sandra had to get back down the stairs. All the ideas sounded unsafe, or at least to me they did. Kevin and Sandra finally came up with the idea of Sandra scooting down the steps while Kevin pulled her by the legs. We helped her down the first couple of stairs so she could sit on the top step, and then she edged down each step with Kevin pulling her legs. When she got to the last two stairs, we were able to easily stand her up and get her in the wheelchair.

She was proud of her accomplishment. She had seen the upstairs, despite our cries of caution and warning. It was a good sign that her willpower was in full force. It had to be if she was going to survive this battle with cancer. She had to keep that same resoluteness that caused her to walk in the hall bathroom and that caused her to climb those stairs earlier. She had to keep that same level of determination. She just had to.

We had a nice evening meal together and then we each headed our own way. Sandra and Stephanie had discussed having our Christmas get together at Stephanie's house. We all thought that would be lovely, especially since Sandra had decided NOT to put up a tree. The plans were for Christmas Eve.

We left that weekend looking ahead a few weeks to when we would be together again. I would have to miss out on part of the dinner my mother has each year on Christmas Eve, but I felt so compelled to do everything I could so we could all be with Sandra.

We arrived at Stephanie's around 3 pm on Christmas Eve. Grandma was there, but Tommy, Linda, Wendy, John, and Robin were unable to make it. Sandra, Jackie, and Grandma would get together with them the following week. We all brought a covered dish/crock pot. Sandra made my favorite dessert, penuche fudge! We ate, fellowshiped, laughed, and took pictures. Again, everything was so 'normal.'

It came time to exhange gifts, and as always, the children went first. Sandra and Jackie always gave them a good Christmas. I did the majority of her shopping for her, but she didn't spare any expenses. Everyone enjoyed the exchanging, even the gag gifts that Sandra always liked to throw in.

But something was wrong. Sandra wasn't very engaged in the festivities. We would often find her off to the side with her head down. When we called out to her, she would try to act normal. But it was quite evident, she was troubled. Even after we got home and looked at all the pictures on the digital camera, we could tell she wasn't happy.

Finally, around 7 pm, Sandra encouraged us to get on the road. She had always worried about traveling safety over the holidays. As we set out to leave, Sandra and Jackie left, too. It was cold and beginning to rain, so we tried to keep the goodbyes short. The children said their goodbyes, and as Kevin, Stephanie, Brad, and I were telling Sandra goodbye, she began to cry. She was talking about a test she was scheduled for the next week, and it seemed to be worrying her a great deal. It made the parting much harder.

Some of the tears were over parting. But some of the tears seemed to express a much deeper sorrow. As we pulled away from Stephanie's driveway, I couldn't help but wonder if Sandra would ever be inside that house again. Perhaps that's what Sandra was thinking, too.

A Time to Get...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 11

As the weeks passed, Sandra continued to take her radiation treatments daily. Kevin and I continued to go every weekend, as well as his sister Stephanie. Sandra's brother Tommy and his wife Linda visited as much as they could, but because of Tommy's unpredictable schedule, we never got to be there with them.

Sandra's friends were in and out every day. It was amazing to see such an effort by so many people to encourage her and cheer her up. But there were three friends that were as close as the family; Linda B, Patricia, and Joyce. They were there no matter what; thick and thin, Sandra's inner circle. Sandra needed them, and we had no problem with that. However, there were a few times I felt like the family needed time to be with her alone.

Thanksgiving was approaching, and Kevin and Stephanie had decided that the three of us would prepare the Thanksgiving meal. We wanted to make it as "normal" as possible. Of course, Jackie protested and told us to do as we would normally do on Thanksgiving-stay at home. He simply didn't want to put us out. It was heart breaking to know that his need was so great, yet he refused to ask. Jackie was deathly ill with the pulmonary fibrosis, yet he didn't want to be a burden. Kevin and Stephanie both wanted to spend Thanksgiving with Sandra, and they weren't going to take "No" for an answer.

Jackie had done his best to help Sandra, but he finally had to hire a nurse to take care of her during the day.After all, he did still own a business, and he tried to "work" every day. When Sandra had first come home from the rehabilitation center, he had hired two other nurses that didn't pan out. The hiring agency he went through shuffled the nurses around, which Jackie was not happy about. He finally found someone who worked out perfectly. Laura was a great help, as well as a capable nurse. There was good rapport between Laura and all of the family. There was no way in the world to manage without her. Jackie needed her as much as Sandra did; Laura did laundry, cleaned bathrooms, you name it. And when we arrived on Tuesdays or Thursdays, I did everything I could to make the load lighter on everyone.

During all of this darkness and struggling, we had some news that gave us all a ray of hope. Stephanie announced that she would be having a baby! I thought that if anything would encourage Sandra to fight, this surely would. Sandra was overjoyed by the news! We were finally seeing the twinkling in Sandra's eyes. She finally looked like she wanted to live.

Thanksgiving Day came. Kevin, Stephanie, and I were up early in preparation of the big day. Stephanie beat all of us up-she had morning sickness. Poor thing, she never did seem to get past that stage. As Sandra was lying in her hospital bed, she told us to "be careful in my kitchen!!" and, "Don't y'all make a mess!!!" All morning long, we laughed, giggled, bumped into each other. Daniel, Jordan, and Savannah kept Sandra company in the den while we wrecked her southern living style kitchen.

The menu consisted of all the traditional Thanksgiving trimmings; turkey, dressing, macaroni & cheese, mashed potatoes, banana pudding, etc. The banana pudding was specially made for Sandra because she always loved my banana pudding. We had everything ready by noon when the rest of the family arrived. Jackie's son Bud and his wife and children came, as well as grandma and her sister Evelyn.

Sandra had changed into a nice sweater, fixed her hair, and put on her make-up. Looking at her sitting there so pretty, you wouldn't have known how sick she was. Having family together for Thanksgiving had made her look almost well again. She seemed almost magically transformed. I knew that the news about the baby also had a lot to do with it, too.

We had a wonderful meal and a wonderful time with the family. Everyone was happy to be together. The mood was so light, the lurking certainty of Sandra's death seemed to disappear.

Earlier in the week, I had talked to Sandra and tried to convince her to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving. She always answered in an exasperated tone, "We'll see...." I was shocked to hear Sandra call out to me while I was cleaning the kitchen, "Hurry up, Rita. If you want to go shopping, let's get going!" I hurried about, trying to get cleaned up. Not the kitchen, but my self!

Jackie gave me instructions on how to get Sandra in and out of the car. "Remember to use her sliding board, or she'll fall down. And make her sit in the back."

I was getting nervous. Maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew. But too late for that. It was off to Belk's, Sandra's favorite place. As soon as I got her in the car, I opened the trunk to put the wheel chair in. I strained to lift it up to clear the lip of the trunk.

Good grief! How in the world has Jackie been doing this?? This thing is heavy!

We chatted on the way to Belk's, talking about the things we were looking for. She wanted to buy some clothes and perfume. She also wanted some new shoes. She also wanted to go to Walmart to buy some make-up and bathroom products. All of this was so thrilling to hear! She had some purpose, some goals, some desire!

Fortunately, the crowd wasn't too bad for Thanksgiving Day. Once inside, Sandra went directly for the clothes. It was an eye opening event...as she wheeled through the racks of clothes, clothes and hangers would spring back and hit her in the face. This made her angry, but I could tell she was trying to suppress it because she wanted to have a good time with me.

She picked out several outfits and tried them on, which was no easy task. I helped as much as she would let me, but who wants their daughter in law to see them without clothes on? Sandra didn't, and I can't say I blame her.

After finding 2 new outfits, she asked me to help her pick out some new gym shoes. Her physical therapy at home required her to pull herself up using a handicap bar installed in her hallway. Good tread on her shoes were vital. She had also started taking a few steps with a walker. She had to have shoes with excellent support before she could continue with this new endeavor. She hated the walker, but I was glad that she was getting shoes that her therapist recommended. It let me know she was going to try. Up to this point, she had only taken a few steps. It was such a consuming task! We would have to stand behind her with her wheelchair because after a couple of steps she would fall back down from sheer exhaustion. Her legs would wobble like a little toddler who was just learning to stand.

Next was the perfume counter. She asked what I recommended, and I told her I liked Euphoria by Calvin Klein. She made note of that but proceeded to spray just about every tester bottle on the counter. When all was said and done, Euphoria was her favorite, too.

She was having such a good time!! She picked up my Christmas gift, which was a set of Cuisinart cookware. Her grand total at Belk's was over $500. When she handed the cashier her credit card, she looked over at me and said with her dry humor, "Jackie owes me big time. I haven't bought anything in months."

I just knew we were done when we left Belk's, but she told me that we needed to go to Walmart. On our way out to the car, a lady walked up to her and said, "Sandra!! What in the world happened to you!?!?!" I wanted to shove this lady away from Sandra because I knew it would undo all the fun we had been having. Sandra's tone and expression changed as she gave a short summary of all that had been happening over the past 3 months.

After the lady left, I asked Sandra who it was. It was a former co-worker, and I knew the woman was only concerned about Sandra. It just sounded so insensitive when she said it. Most of all, I was afraid it would put an end to a long awaited wonderful day.

Sandra did seem a bit subdued after the encounter, but the visit to Walmart picked her back up. We picked out some make-up for Sandra. She bought both of us a tube of matching lipstick, something she had done on many occasions. She also wanted to buy the kids some board games, so we picked up several of those. Her Walmart total was almost $200. After $700 dollars and the crowds, she was ready to go home.

It had been such a good day. After she got home, she sat up in her hospital bed for a while, reading a devotional book and her Bible. There had been such a change in her! The news of the baby had worked wonders.

Later that weekend, Sandra had wheeled herself down the hall. We all assumed she was getting herself to the bathroom, something she had been doing on her own for quite some time. I was busying myself in the kitchen and suddenly I heard Kevin shout, "Momma!!" My heart jumped with fear! I ran towards the hall, where I saw an empty wheel chair fly across the hall.

I heard Kevin and Sandra exchanging words, but it wasn't really arguing...not really.

"Momma!! What were you doing??"

"I was fixing the curtain in the bathroom!" Sandra had pulled her wheelchair up to the hall bathroom door as far as she could. The she pulled herself up by using the bathroom counter, and walked over to the bathroom window to fix the valance on the window treatment. How she had managed, none of us could figure it out. She held on to the counter, but that was hardly enough support to help her stand. She could barely walk 10 feet with her walker. When she tried to get back in her wheelchair, the brakes had slipped and the wheelchair flew out from under her. Miraculously, she didn't fall.

"You could have fallen and gotten hurt, Momma!!"

"But I didn't." There was so much smugness in her voice. I smiled at the sound of it.

"Jackie's gonna be so upset with you!" Kevin said.

"You think I'm worried about Jackie? Ha!" This dialogue went on for several minutes.

Later that day when Jackie got home, we told him about what happened. He was concerned but glad to see some fight revive in Sandra.

"We're gonna have to watch her close now, y'all," Jackie said.

We all agreed. We all had seen what we had been longing to see...a determinant will that would cause her to fight and win.

We're getting her back. She's finally fighting this thing. She's going to make it!

A Time to Keep Silent...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 10

Our plans for Tybee Island were nixed. It wasn't so much that we couldn't go there, it was more the fact that I so desperately needed to get away. Even though it had been several months since the storm had passed at our Church, the devil was making sure that we were constantly reminded of all the hurt.

Like the Monday after Sandra's diagnosis....I was in the grocery store trying to pick up a few things when I received a phone call from one of my friends. She asked how I was doing since I had heard the "news." I asked what news she was speaking of. Come to find out, her husband, who worked about 100 miles away from our Church was told by an acquaintance that "Bro. Whitman had been caught running around on his wife." I was hurt, but I was not surprised, simply because I was pretty certain of the source. There was absolutely no shred of truth to it, and the people responsible for that lie knew it. All the pain came rushing back through me. I kept wondering how people who claimed to love us so much could purposely say things they knew to be untrue. There's enough truth to be said of all of us; lies don't have to be added to the mix.

I tried to act unfazed, especially in front of my children. We check out at the supermarket, ran through the rain to get to the car, and headed back to the Church. I wanted to cry, but I didn't dare do so with the children in the car. I wanted to drive far, far away. I didn't want to turn left at the Church. I wanted to drive and drive and drive. I wanted to go somewhere where I didn't know anyone and where no one knew me. Not because I had anything to hid but because I didn't want to have to interact with anyone. Caring had become the single greatest source of agony in my life. I was so drained....

And then I realized, it just isn't possible to NOT care. I had to put it all behind me because too many people loved us and supported us at the Church. They were worth going on for, and greater than that, so was the One I served. My family, despite the "rumor" was alive and strong, and they were certainly worth caring for!

It came down to dusting myself off spiritually and staying focused on the things that mattered, and at that point, Sandra and Jackie were our priority. Living so far away made things difficult, but we poured as much time and effort as possible into helping Kevin's parents.

We made it back to Camden for Sandra's breast biopsy, which was done at the local hospital. We were at the hospital bright and early, along with several of Sandra's friends. Linda B. who called us and urged us to come the week before, worked at the hospital. As usual, she was all smiles and talking a hundred miles a minute. As Jackie was wheeling Sandra in, Linda B. pulled me aside and said with a fading smile, "Rita, this isn't good. You know that don't you?"

I was uncomfortable with the conversation, mainly because I didn't like the truth of the matter.

"I know Linda, but it would be so unusual for her to have three separate cases of cancer. It's just so unlikely."

"Rita, my mother died of cancer, three different ones. It is possible. And Dr. Babcock with the Oncology Center has been in here and I've talked to him, Rita. This really, really looks bad. I just want you all to be prepared."

I felt sick. I knew it was bad, but Linda always seemed so hopeful. It was particularly sobering to hear her say the same things I had thought.

Linda guided us back to the area where the biopsy would be preformed. The nurse took Sandra to an X-ray room to help locate the mass in her breast. Unknown to all of us, the X-ray had to be taken lying down.

As we all sat in the hall, we could barely hear Sandra's voice. It seemed to be taking an awful long time. Several times, the door opened and closed, with nurses and technicians going in and out. One of the nurses finally told us that they were having trouble getting Sandra situated on her stomach in order to take the X-ray. I thought to myself, "Stomach? Isn't this a mammogram?" Jackie tried to find Linda B. so that we could get some information, but she was nowhere to be found.

We waiting a little while longer. The sound of Jackie's portable "lungs" were ever present in the background. We could still hear the nurses talking, but we also heard moaning and then sobbing. The sobbing grew louder and louder. Sandra was crying like a helpless child. It was so gut wrenching to hear, I literally covered my ears. Kevin and Jackie looked at each other in shock, both in wonderment as to what could possibly be going on behind the door that separated us from Sandra.

Her cry was one that signaled an abandonment of strength and will. And the more she cried, the louder it got. It seemed to echo down the corridor, and I couldn't help but wonder why there wasn't a rush of hospital personnel coming to her aid. Finally, Kevin asked me to go find Linda; he had heard enough of his mother's anguish.

By the time we found Linda, the nurse had brought Sandra from the X-Ray room. She had calmed down considerably, but when we asked her what happened, she fell all to pieces.

"They made me lay on my stomach, and I told them I couldn't," she sobbed. "My back hurt so bad, I couldn't hardly breath..." Her shoulders quivered as she cried with her entire body. We all tried to comfort her and tell her it was alright, but she had surrendered to her pain and weakness. "I can't do this...I can't...please don't expect me to...I can't live like this, just let me die!"

All of this took place in the hallway, and for all we knew, 1000 people saw what was happening. All of us, family and friends, encouraged her to keep going. We wanted her to know how much we valued her life, but we wanted her to value her own life.

We finally got her calmed down and over to the area of the hospital for the breast biopsy. To noone's surprise, the breast biopsy came back cancerous. It was the most logical source for the cancer in the spine, but the masses in the stomach and gall bladder still had not been addressed.

Finally, after a long day at the hospital, we had Sandra back at home. She asked me to how long it would take for me to make potato soup. I told her it would take about 45 minutes. She seemed so disappointed, so I stewed some potatoes for her. She ate well but complained with her stomach.

As she sat in her wheelchair, she told all of us somberly, "I want you all to know that if they tell me I need chemotherapy, I will not do it. I can't live like that. I can't walk, and I'm not going to be sick like that laying in a hospital bed. If chemotherapy is the only thing that will help me, then let me die." This was no "beg me to do it" speech. She was serious. The option was not on the table.

She fought back tears but succumbed. "I can handle dying, if I could just walk. I can't stand this wheel chair. I can't stand not being able to clean my house. I can't stand it! If I can't walk, I want to die. Just let me die!" All of this was said through tears that spoke of pain deeper than cancer. Kevin, Jackie, and I gathered around her wheelchair, trying to reassure her of our love. She looked up at Kevin and cried out, "What are you going to do? You can't keep coming here every week? You'll wear the wheels off your van! You have to stop coming so much."

"Momma, we can get new wheels if we wear the other one's off...but we're coming up here, every week if we have to. I wouldn't want to be any where else."

I told her, "You know you'd do the same for us."

The whole conversation seemed to give her some comfort for which we were thankful. It had been an exhausting day. Everybody was ready to fall into bed. Sandra had radiation every day, and it wasn't something she was enjoying. Her rest was crucial. I had even made it a nightly ritual to give her a foot massage before she went to bed. It was so relaxing for her and one of the few things that made her smile.

It must have been very early the next morning, for the master bedroom was still fairly dark. I could hear Jackie talking in the living room.... and Sandra crying. In the background was the sound of the oxygen machine, rhythmically pumping life into Jackie's lungs. Sandra's inconsolible sobs were muffled by Jackie softly whispering a hush. I pulled the covers up under my chin, closing my eyes. If only it were possible to shut out the cancer that's taking my mother-in-law from us....

Her sobs were so pitiful. There was nothing I wanted more than to get out of that bed, walk into that living room and tell her that everything was going to be alright.

But I couldn't...I had done that once before. I knew it was time to keep silent.

Only God could change the course of things, and that was completely subject to His will. All of us would have to wait and see what the Lord would do. And once it was done, we would have to accept it as the best course of action for all of us.

A Time to Speak...To Every Thing A Season chpt. 9

It had been an emotionally draining day. Kevin and I had already explained to our children that their grandma was very ill and that she may die. We never expected that we would have to explain that to everyone else, but we were called upon to do so.

Shortly after we arrived home from the Oncology Center, Jackie approached Kevin and me in the master bedroom. Again, he was trembling and struggling to get his words out.

"Kevin....buddy....I'm sorry for you and your momma...but I don't know what I would have done without y'all today." Jackie let himself lean into Kevin's embrace, and they both cried. Jackie, not being one for tears or excessive emotions, quickly pulled himself together and said, "I need y'all's help." He paused, wiping his wet, red face.

"Somebody has got to talk to all of Sandra's friends and tell them what's going on...I just can't do it," he said as he whimpered into another sob. I assured Jackie that I would take care of all the calls. I knew this was going to be a monumental task because she had an enormous group of friends.

"Another thing...someone has to tell Grandma,"he said. That task was for one person and one person alone-Kevin. "I'll tell Grandma, Jackie, but I don't want to tell her over the phone. I'd rather go see her and tell her in person, " Kevin said. We decided right then that we would drive to Cheraw on Friday to tell Sandra's mother the news. Jackie had agreed to tell Sandra's brother Tommy and his wife Linda. They were constantly in touch with Jackie and Sandra, so Jackie felt at ease with them.

Jackie made it clear: do not let Sandra tell her friends. She was discouraged and defeated enough without having to relive the diagnosis every time the phone rang. The only person she was "allowed" to tell was Stephanie, and she had already taken care of that. The rest was left to me and Kevin.

I was glad to be of some assistance. Jackie's burden was heavy enough. But every time I talked to one of Sandra's friends, and there were many, it was dreadful. Everyone was shocked. Many cried. Some asked, "How did she get cancer?" as if she picked it up like a germ in the grocery store. I didn't have those kind of answers. Neither did the doctors.

I didn't like being the one that gave the bad news, but I did enjoy speaking to so many of Sandra's friends. It was wonderful to see how many people loved her. She had lived in the same town for over 35 years and worked at the same place for over 25 years. A person makes a lot of life time friends when her roots are that deep. The phone rang non stop for the first 48 hours after "the appointment." Neighbors, friends, co-workers, church members-everyone wanted to know what the doctor said and what the prognosis was. Some even whispered into the phone, "Rita, do you think she's gonna make it?" I couldn't give an answer.

Within the next few days, Sandra started radiation. Unfortunately, she had to travel to West Columbia every day for her treatments. It was so exhausting for her. The drive was an hour long one way and the treatment was an hour as well. It was particularly difficult for Sandra to lay still for the MRI's they needed for successful radiation therapy. Two back surgeries made the pain of laying flat on her back excruciating.

Friday came to soon. Laden with an enormous amount of dread Kevin and I went to see his Grandma. It was an hour drive, but it seemed like it only took 10 minutes. We both prayed while we traveled, knowing that this would devastate Grandma. My heart hurt for Kevin. I hated every second of what he was having to go through, yet there was nothing I could do to stop it, nothing I could do to change it.

When we arrived in Cheraw, Grandma came out of her house, ready to greet us as she always does. She assumed that it was just a regular visit since we were already visiting Sandra. When she didn't she the children she asked us where they were. "It's just me and Rita today, Grandma."

"Uggghhh!!!! Why??? I want to see my Grand babies!!" She wasn't happy.

"I know. But me and Rita wanted to see you and talk to you a little bit, " Kevin said, trying to sooth her obvious anger. We both hugged her, and we both could feel her tension and aggravation. She wanted to know why the Grandchildren weren't there.

We went inside and to her den. Kevin asked Grandma to sit down on the couch beside him, and I sat in a chair across from them.

"I sure wish you would have brought the babies," Grandma said.

"I know, but we wanted to talk to you about Momma."

"Oh? What about her? She's alright isn't she?"

"Well, you know she went to the doctor on Tuesday." She nodded yes. "Well, Rita and I went with her and the doctor had some bad news Grandma."

I sat there watching my husband tell his Grandmother that her daughter was facing a very grim diagnosis. He explained the possibility of there being three separate cancers and the probability of it being breast cancer metastasized to her spine.

Grandma's face was contorted into a frame of horror. She suddenly looked blankly at Kevin as if she didn't know him or anything he was saying. And within seconds, her shoulders and head dropped like a child whose balloon had slipped out of his hand. Her hands slowly came up to her face and she began to weep. More tears, more embraces, more love. That's all we could do for each other.

I looked at Kevin and Olivia, that's Grandma's name (though no one calls her anything but Grandma), and I thought about how cruel cancer had been to their family. Of course, cancer is cruel to everyone it touches, but Grandma's husband Frances had lung cancer and emphysema, both being the ultimate cause of Granddaddy's death. Kevin also has a cousin, Wendy, who is a two time survivor of breast cancer. Wendy has had to endure radical treatment, but she has survived. Her story is particularly heartbreaking, especially to Grandma, because Wendy endured this battle at the young age of 24, then again at 34. Now Olivia was seeing her daughter slip into the clutches of this dreaded disease.

It took a while for Grandma to calm down. Kevin being the only grandson, he holds Grandma's heart in his hand. He was a great comfort to her. We spent the afternoon with Grandma and tried to have as good of a day as possible.

The time came when we had to head back to Georgia. As much as we hated to leave Sandra and Jackie, we had to get home. We planned to come back the following week. Sandra was scheduled to have her breast biopsy the following week on the 8th, and we wanted to be there for that. Amazingly enough, the Oncology Center she visited in Columbia had a satellite office at the Kershaw County Hospital located in Camden, so all of Sandra's follow up appointments with the oncologist could be done in Camden.

It was pretty much the same each time...leave Georgia on Tuesday and come back on Saturday night. We didn't go every week, but we tried to go as much as possible. On our way back to Georgia we talked about all we needed to do to make ourselves available to Sandra and Jackie.

Kevin and I had planned a trip to Tybee Island for Thanksgiving. We wanted to have a non traditional Thanksgiving so we reserved an ocean front hotel room and planned to take the children to the coast for the long holiday weekend. In light of all that was going on, we decided that we needed to change our plans. We were so afraid of never having another Thanksgiving with Sandra and Jackie; we wanted to make the most of the time she had left. We cancelled our reservations for Tybee Island and planned our holidays for Camden.

A Time to Die...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 8

The next morning, Kevin and I were up early. It was November 2, 2005. The anticipation was more than we could stand. The appointment was scheduled for noon, so I had to get my children over to my sister's house before we had to leave at 10:30.

That morning, Kevin had come to the strong realization that things were much worse than what Sandra and Jackie had been telling us. He was crushed inside, but just as he cautioned me, he didn't want to borrow trouble that wasn't ours...yet.

Watching Jackie get Sandra ready for her visit in Columbia was particularly difficult. Here was a man that needed two new lungs dragging a wheelchair around with an oxygen tank slung over his arm. She had a "sliding" board that helped her get from the hospital bed to the wheelchair, from the wheelchair to the car, etc. She couldn't place weight on her legs for more than a few seconds, so her board was essential.

About a year prior to all of this, Sandra and Jackie had their swimming pool filled in. Jackie had so much trouble keeping it up because of his health. It wasn't worth the trouble anymore. Since Sandra had been sick, Jackie was parking his Buick on the spot the swimming pool was at. It ended up being a much needed help and blessing because their yard was sloped. There was about 20 stairs from the parking area to the back door, so the pool being gone was a good thing!

Jackie and Sandra had about 4 vehicles. Jackie loved old Cadillacs, and had two of them, but his Buick Regal was the easiest thing to get Sandra in and out of. Just about 2 weeks before Sandra started having the severe back pain, Jackie had bought her a new 2005 Toyota Forerunner. He paid cold hard cash, but she only got to drive it once. The vehicle was almost useless, except for the fact that Sandra planned on driving it again.

While we were on our way to The South Carolina Oncology Center of Columbia, Sandra was unusually quiet. Kevin drove for Jackie, and Sandra and I sat in the back seat. She tried to make conversation about the kids, but fear was etched in her face. When we finally arrived, she was very tense. Actually, all of us were very tense.

The Oncology Center was a huge outfit, a massive building. As we made our way to the entrance, I immediately noticed the bald women who proudly went without scarves on their heads. I suppose it was a hallmark sign that they were fighting this disease that was desperately trying to kill them. There were just as many women walking around with scarves on their heads. To my amazement, all of them looked strong, like they were capable of the fight in which they were engaged. But Sandra, she looked so feeble.

One of the most striking things about the appearance of the Oncology Center was the wall of windows that lined the waiting area. Had it not been such a cloudy day, the waiting room would have been flooded with sunlight. It was a nice touch for a place that often delivered such devastating news. As we anxiously sat in the waiting area, I longed to feel the comfort of what that wall of windows was capable of delivering; the feeling of life, the comfort of sunshine, the promise of a blue sky, the hope of a tomorrow. But just like the darkness I had felt the night before, all the windows could offer was the ugly reality of ominous clouds.

The four of us tried to read magazines to occupy our time. Finally, a nurse called Sandra's name. We all scrambled toward the nurse as she led us to a lab area. She drew some blood from Sandra. While she was doing that, I expressed my anxiety to Kevin. He looked pale. Fearing that Sandra would see the concern on our faces, I said no more.

We were escorted back out to the waiting area and told that she would be called back to a room shortly. We settled back in our seats. Sandra sighed and rested her chin on her fist, looking as if she was ready to get the whole thing over with.

I sat there, wondering how we would take "the news." I looked over to my right and saw an enormous fish tank. In fact, there were several just like it throughout the waiting area. The sound of the tank was so relaxing, giving the room an ambient atmosphere. I stared at the fish, admiring their beautiful colors.

It all seemed like the ultimate betrayal. All this "evidence" of life and warmth in a place where death seemed to reign. In my eyes, it was so deceptive, so misleading. It was as if the Center was trying to equate cancer with life, yet no compatibility existed between the two. I wanted to stand up and scream, "I'm not buying it! This is a place of death sentences and heartache! Not a place of life!" Of course, I knew the image of life was conducive to the patients, but I felt like it wouldn't help Sandra. Inside, she was already a dead woman.

"Sandra Davis?" My thoughts were broken. Kevin, Jackie, and I quickly rose to our feet. Jackie wheeled Sandra through the door that led to the examination rooms. We were led to a room by a kind nurse who made sure we all had a place to sit. She assured us that Dr. Mushtaq would be in shortly. In less than 5 minutes, the doctor entered the room.

Dr. Mushtaq introduced himself and talked directly to Sandra.

"And can you please introduce me to your family?" he said.

After the introductions, he asked Sandra if he was free to speak of her condition with us present in the room. She nodded yes. He took a seat right beside me.

He slowly opened her chart and began reading out loud her previous surgeries. He was fairly young, and I couldn't help but wonder how many times he had delivered bad news to families just like ours. His voice was slow and deliberate. It was maddening how slow he spoke; it was as if his hesitation signaled his dread.

"Mrs. Davis, you had surgery 2 weeks ago on your C5 vertebrae. We biopsied the vertebrae...and..." He literally stopped.

Sandra was wringing her hands while Jackie was looking expectantly at the doctor. Kevin's foot was nervously twitching. My mouth was dry. I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that were sure to come.

"And...the biopsy... is... showing... cancer in your spine." For such a short sentence, it seemed to take an eternity to get out of his mouth. All of us were hanging onto every single syllable.

Sandra calmly replied with, "Okay, " but the inflection on the end indicated that she expected more news.

He continued. "We also found a tumor in your right breast that we believe may be the source of your cancer. However, the abdominal CT scan showed a mass on your gallbladder and on your stomach. Cancer in any of those regions could have spread to your spine, but we think it may be breast cancer that has metastasized to your spine."

Sandra began to cry, and with that, we were all crying. Dr. Mushtaq reached over to Sandra and gently patted her arm. He told her that he didn't know all the answers but that God did. He gave all of us Kleenex and continued to talk.

He told Sandra that she would need to have a breast biopsy first. Since the team of doctors at the South Carolina Oncology Center felt that it was the primary source, they would focus on that first. They said that she would have to have radiation for the cancer in her spine, which is always indicative of metastatic cancer.

When the time came for questions, we were all speechless. We were still crying and reeling from the news. I finally asked, "If the cancer is in the gallbladder, can't you just remove the gallbladder?"

Dr. Mushtaq explained that if the cancer in her spine had metastasized from her gallbladder, it would have spread to the surrounding organs. It would be a much worse prognosis. He basically explained that breast cancer would be the best case scenario and that the mass in her stomach and gallbladder may very well be benign. The worse case scenario was that it was breast cancer that had metastasized to the spine and to the gallbladder and stomach. Even worse, there was a possibility that it was three separate cases of cancer. Further tests would tell the tale.

One thing was certain; the cancer she had was very aggressive. The doctor avoided telling us how long she had or what her chances of survival were, but he repeatedly told us that the cancer was "very aggressive." And from all we had learned, we knew that the prognosis was dim.

After scheduling her radiation treatments and upcoming tests and biopsies, we headed home. We all loaded up in the car and tried to get back to I-20. As we worked our way through the maze like parking lot, I looked over at Sandra. She looked at me as if to say, "It figures...." I grabbed her hand and told her that it would be alright. She shrugged her shoulders like I child with a "whatever" attitude. It broke my heart.

On the way home, she quietly said, "I don't know how I'm going to tell Stephanie. She calls me everyday on her way home from work, and she knows I had this appointment today. She is going to take this really bad." No one said a word. We all knew how difficult it would be.

Amazingly enough, Sandra asked us if we would mind stopping at a restaurant to have lunch. We were happy to oblige her. I thought to myself, "Is this a good sign? A good appetite might mean that the masses in her stomach and gallbladder weren't anything to worry about."

We ended up at a buffet style restaurant in Camden. Sandra ate very well, which made the rest of us happy. Once we were home, Sandra got in her hospital bed and stayed there the rest of the day.

At about 5:10 p.m. Sandra's phone rang. Kevin and I knew who it was-Stephanie. She was obviously asking about Sandra's appointment. Sandra pretended to have trouble hearing Stephanie.

"Steph, I can't here you, baby. You must be in a bad spot. Hang up and call me back when you get home." Sandra bought herself a few more minutes to get her nerve up to tell Stephanie the news. Within 15 minutes, Kevin's sister had called back, eager to hear all the details.

Sandra told her as gently as she could. It was a good thing we couldn't hear both sides of the conversation because it would have torn our hearts to pieces. Stephanie and Sandra were very close, and this was the most devastating thing imaginable. The only thing we could hear was Sandra bravely trying to tell her daughter the same thing the foreign doctor had told her. "We don't know why, Stephanie, but God does..."

A Time to Weep...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 7

I believe it was a Sunday afternoon. My cellphone rang, and I could see on the called ID that the caller was from Camden, S.C. I was puzzled because I did not recognize the number, and it certainly wasn't any of our family members. I had a dreaded fear that it was the hospital.

To my surprise, it was one of Sandra's close friends, Linda. I was stunned to hear her voice, and it immediately concerned me why she would be calling. She was one of Sandra's best friends and the host of Stephanie's outdoor wedding. After the hellos, I could tell she was very concerned.

"Rita, I don't know if you and Kevin know this, but Sandra has an appointment on Wednesday. It would be so good if you both went with her, so that you could ask questions. Jackie is so exhausted, and you know, he's not very good at asking questions. I just think you all would understand more about what might be going on with Sandra if you went to the appointment with her."

Linda was doing this behind Sandra and Jackie's back. Linda, full of charm and southern drawl, had a way of appealing to a person. I always enjoyed her company, and it was very comforting to talk to her about Sandra's unusual problems.

Kevin sat across from me at his office desk while I talked to Linda. I relayed all that she said, and we told her that we would arrive in Camden on Tuesday afternoon to take Sandra to the doctor. Typically, Kevin doesn't like to miss services at our Church unless he is preaching somewhere else. With Sandra being so ill, he wanted to do as much as he could to be there for her.

So, the plans were to leave Tuesday afternoon. Kevin took the remainder of the week off at work, and I loaded up the kids school books, hoping that I would be able to get some work done with them. All the while, I had an unsettled feeling in my heart. Maybe deep down inside I knew the appointment was going to be bad news, but for some reason, I kept thinking this was going to be a routine post-surgery follow up visit. But when we arrived at Sandra's, I learned that her appointment was with an oncologist.

An oncologist....was it because they did a mammogram and just had to send her to the most logical place? Or was there already suspicion in the minds of the doctors? Jackie was worried to death, and Sandra was defeated.

When we arrived and saw her for the first time since her second back surgery, we were heart broken at how pitiful she looked. She sat in a wheelchair with her head hung low. She was happy to see us but remained eerily silent. The most talking she did was to the grandchildren, who always bring an infectious joy to grandparents.

So much had changed in her home. Her house always resembled something out of a Southern Living Magazine. She had extravagant taste in home furnishings and lavished every room with her personal touch of flair, paying attention to even the tiniest detail. No matter how often we visited, there was always something new in her home. This time, that something new was a hospital bed in the living room.

I nearly gasped. For me, hospital beds in a home scream death. It signifies an attempt at comfort when there is little to be found. Not only was there a hospital bed, but there was also a bed side potty. One of her sofa tables was cleared of it's beautiful decorations and replaced with at least a dozen medications, hand sanitizer, and toilet paper. I just couldn't believe what I was looking at.

I held back my initial reaction, but deep inside it was all becoming clear. Sandra was very sick. She and Jackie had held back from us; they didn't want us to worry. But it was all very clear to me.

We told Sandra that I would be going to the doctor appointment with her. She looked up from the floor and said, "Really? Ok. That'll be good." We had planned for Kevin to stay with the children, but in light of all we were seeing, Kevin decided that both of us needed to go. Since my sister lives in Camden, she offered to watch the kids.

Kevin was worried, but much like his mother, he said very little. We managed to get through supper, but while we were tidying up the kitchen, Jackie came to us. He was trembling and teary eyed.

"Y'all....I don't know how to thank you...I could not handle tomorrow by myself...uh....I am so thankful that you two came to help us out with the appointment."

In between his words, he kept coughing and clearing his throat. He so desperately needed to go to Duke. He was on oxygen 24/7, and he had trouble telling us what he had to say. Partly because of tears. Partly because he was gasping for breath.

A little while later, Jackie took me aside. He said, "Sandra told me this morning, 'Jackie, you know I'm not going to make it.' She thinks she has bone cancer. Rita, it may be worse than that."

Later that evening, after we had put the kids to bed, Kevin and I sat in Sandra and Jackie's bedroom talking. As we were getting ready for bed, my husband picked up his Bible and began reading it. I crawled into bed beside him. My heart was about to burst. I had been wanting to cry all afternoon, but I dared not do it front of Sandra.

"Kevin...I'm worried." I started weeping. He reached over and put his arm around me, saying, "It's going to be alright."

"No, Kevin. She is in bad shape. Do you understand where we are taking her tomorrow? Do you understand that it's an oncologist she is seeing tomorrow? She has cancer...it has to be..."

Kevin soothed my crying as best he could, but the darkness of the night just made the reality of what was going on that much worse. I cried long into the night. Long after Kevin fell asleep. Long after Sandra dozed off in her hospital bed. All that could be heard was the sound of Jackie's oxygen machine and the rhythmic burst of air being sent through his oxygen tube.

All was dark. Around me. Inside me. I begged God to please let Sandra be alright.

Up to this point, I had never lost anyone so close to me. My grandparents had died, but at their age, it was bound to happen. Sandra was only 57. And she was the mother-in-law people hope for. She had always respected our home and never over stepped her boundaries. When she did insert her opinion, it always seemed appropriate in timing and manner.

She always bought the children's Easter clothes, and many times gave us money to help us along. When she bought new furniture, we usually ended up with her old. For us, it was always nicer than what we had. She always made me feel like her daughter, not her daughter in law. The only person I was closer to was my own mother.

The minutes and hours ticked by slowly that night. I barely slept at all. It was fine with me though. I didn't want to go to the appointment. I didn't want to hear what I already knew to be true.

A Time to Tear Down...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 6

It had been a terrible week of therapy for Sandra. One incident in particular caused a huge problem. Sandra had called for a nurse to help her to the bathroom (her bedside portable). After trying to get a nurse for over an hour, Sandra soiled herself. When the nurse finally came, my mother in law was humiliated and degraded as the nurse fussed about having to clean Sandra. The nurse snapped, "Can't you get up and walk?!?!?"

Sandra snapped back, "If I could I wouldn't lay here in my own mess! Seven weeks ago I was up walking around just like you!"

When the nurse got Sandra up to clean the bed linens, she dropped Sandra. Needless to say, when I talked to Sandra, I was livid. Here was a dignified woman reduced to soiling herself and being totally helpless.

When I called the day of the incident, I promised Sandra that I would fix it all. I couldn't hardly see straight; I was so mad! I immediately called Kevin. He was furious! I gave him the number to the facility, but he was much too angry to call. I obliged him and called myself. Within an hour, I had the President of the facility on the phone. I expressed to him in no uncertain terms that my mother-in-law had been treated with less dignity than a dog at the pound. I complained about the fact that Sandra had not been given any water/beverage or food at all that day, even after a therapy session. I reminded him that if she were a dog, someone would be going to jail for cruelty to animals. I also told him that the nurse that had mistreated Sandra better not ever attend to her again. As professionally as I knew how, I told him an earful! I tried not to lose my cool or my testimony, but I made sure he knew that we were more than displeased.

Within an hour of our conversation, the President of the facility was in Sandra's room offering a personal apology. He also conveyed to Sandra and Jackie that the nurse had been permanently relieved of her duties. The rest of Sandra's stay was much better, certainly much more professional.

During Sandra's stint at the rehabilitation center, the pathology report from her surgery had come back as negative. That was a relief to all of us. However, shortly after the incident with the nurse, Sandra started having the pain in her arm again. The doctors decided that another X-ray was needed. It turned out that Sandra had another cracked vertebrae in the cervical area. It answered the question of the reoccurring pain in her left arm, but it also left more questions for the doctors. Two vertebra, it was no coincidence. There had to be a reason for her to have two cracked vertebra. They immediately ordered a mammogram and a CT scan.

Meanwhile, they planned to send Sandra home and arranged for a physical therapist to come to her house. The new cracked vertebrae would have to be operated on before she would be released. It all was decided so fast that Kevin and I weren't able to plan to be there. One day she's stable, the next day she's having another back surgery. Fortunately, the second one was much less invasive. The only thing left for us to do was wait for the results. Sandra and Jackie put on such brave faces it was hard for us to know what to expect. And then, we had an unexpected phone call that gave us much needed direction.

A Time to Build Up....To Every Thing a Season chpt. 5

We were weaving through Columbia lunch hour traffic, trying to make sense of the Mapquest directions we had printed out. Lexington Medical Center, located in West Columbia, was the hospital that performed Sandra's back surgery. We had never been there, and like most directions that you really need to be accurate, Mapquest had goofed the exit number. Fortunately, the billboards along the interstate pointed us right to the hospital.

Kevin had decided not to let Jackie or Sandra know we were coming until we were almost there. They would certainly try to talk us out of it, and that would be futile. Kevin's sister Stephanie was also coming the next day, which was also kept a secret.

When we were close to Irmo, Kevin called Jackie to let him know we were almost there. We were running a little late, so by the time we called, Sandra was already out of recovery. Jackie gave Sandra the phone. The first thing out of her groggy mouth was, "I'm gonna beat your behind, Kevin! Gas is over $2.00 a gallon!" Kevin laughed and told his Mom that it was worth every penny and that he wanted to be there for her. He told her how he had hoped to be there before she made it out of recovery, but true to his persona, he was late.

After a few minutes, Kevin gave me the phone. Jackie wanted to tell me how to get to Sandra's room once we got to the hospital. After he gave me the directions, I asked a few more questions about the surgery.

"So, what did the Doctor determine about her cracked vertebrae? Have they fixed the problem? Will this stop her pain?" I said.

"Oh, yeah. It will. They did say that the vertebrae was mushy...whatever that means. They are running tests on it, but I suspect that everything is fine," Jackie said.

It struck me immediately. Mushy?? How in the world did her vertebrae get "mushy"?

I told Kevin about it, and he, too, thought it was strange. Once we got to the hospital, all of that was forgotten. We were thrilled to see Sandra looking so good after surgery. She was coherent, alert. It was hard to believe that she had just had surgery. The grandchildren piled on her bed. She made a big fuss about us driving all that way to be there for her surgery, but she couldn't hide her joy once we were there.

After a short while of visiting, Sandra dozed off. While she was resting, the nurse came in to check her vital signs. Everything was looking good. But when the nurse asked Sandra to wiggle her toes, she couldn't. The nurse asked Sandra if she could feel her hand touching her foot. She couldn't feel that, either.

No real worries. The spinal block had not worn off. The nurse assured us that this was completely normal. As the nurse finished her exam, I thought to myself, "That would be horrible, to be one of the few people that never recover the feeling in their legs." I brushed it off; it was too morbid to think about.

As the day wore on, the nurses kept focusing on the feeling in her feet. After a few hours, Sandra could feel, but she couldn't move. Again, we were reassured that this was completely normal and that within a day or so, she would regain her mobility.

That afternoon as Sandra was resting, she woke up to an excruciating pain in her left arm. She was howling in pain. We called for the nurse, who immediately came in and repositioned her arm. The pain went away instantly. We were amazed at how quickly the pain subsided. However, the pain in her arm kept reoccurring. No one seemed to have an answer.

The next day, Stephanie came up for the weekend. By this time, Sandra was able to move her legs. We were relieved that all was normal. But we were in for a shock when the nurses came to get Sandra up to walk. She could not stand up. Her legs just buckled underneath her. The reassurances came again. We really wanted to believe the nurses, and I guess we did. Kevin and I had to return home on Saturday, and at that point, Sandra still had not been able to stand up.

We called daily, and still, she could not stand up. Her legs had feeling, they just didn't have any stength, so said the doctors. After about a week and a half in Lexington Medical Center, they moved Sandra to a companion rehabilitation facility that would help her build up her strength in her legs. The doctors suggested several weeks of physical therapy/rehabilitation.

Sandra was very unhappy with the outcome. The family kept trying to build her up, encourage her. Kevin and I called her everyday, hoping to hear some cheer in her voice. On the contrary, she was depressed and defeated. One day, she asked me how it was possible to walk into the hospital for surgery and not be able to walk out. She was convinced that she would never walk again. I didn't have any answers for her. I couldn't understand it either. I was becoming convinced that the surgery on her vertebrae had caused irreversible damage to the nerves to her legs. I didn't say that to Sandra. I kept telling her that the physical therapy would help her.

Sandra had missed so much work that she no longer had any personal time to compensate for her pay. I placed a few calls to the Human Resources department at her county job to see how to keep her insurance in place since she wasn't receiving a paycheck. Once that was squared away, Sandra felt a little more secure about her job and her hopes to return after she was well again.

It had been nearly seven weeks since the surgery, and the rehabilitation facility was growing old for Sandra. She was ready to go home. But home was a long way away. And once there, it wouldn't hold the same comforts.

A Time to Rend...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 4

We were getting used to our new "home." The church basement was already set up with a couple of bedrooms (Prophet's chambers) and two bathrooms, so we had enough space to make us somewhat comfortable. The fellowship hall housed the kitchen, so we just took the other end of the fellowship hall and made it our living room.We never anticipated staying there very long. In fact, we had been looking at other houses, just trying to find the right one. Our plans were soon to change.

Labor Day weekend, we decided to go bowling again. Bowling had become one of our favorite past times, and since we didn't have a house payment while we were living at the church, we had the extra money to go more often. On Labor Day, we had decided to sleep in and keep our plans at a minimal.

While we were having lunch, Kevin's cell phone rang. Kevin ran to the bedroom to grab his phone, but by the time he finally got to it, he had missed the call. He could see that his missed call was from his Aunt Linda and Uncle Tommy. My heart sank.

Kevin quickly pressed the call back button, knowing that something serious had to be wrong. Linda and Tommy never called us. It was very unusual, and we were trying to figure out if something was wrong with Sandra, Jackie, or Grandma.

Tommy answered the phone. After the hellos, Tommy said, "Kevin, your momma is in the hospital. Her back pain became so severe Jackie had to take her to the ER. They are keeping her because it looks like she is going to need surgery. She's going to be transferred to Columbia later today."

We were relieved that everyone was "all right," but we were surprised to hear how bad Sandra's back had become. Surgery?? She said very little about her back pain the last time we had called. The queen of silver linings was holding information back from us.

Later that afternoon, we were able to get Jackie on his cell phone. The doctors would be making a decision by the next day on what course of action and which surgery would be best for Sandra. Like most people, we reacted negatively to the prospect of back surgery. My own sister has had two back surgeries with NO success. But once we talked to Sandra, we knew that she must have felt that it was absolutely necessary, as she had always been opposed to it as well. She said that all she wanted was to get out of pain and that she was willing to do whatever it would take to make that happen.

It was set. She would have surgery on Thursday, three days after Labor Day. Kevin decided right away that he would take off work and be by his mother's bedside when she awoke from her surgery.

We made our plans and said our prayers. We wanted to support Sandra and Jackie during this time. Jackie was waxing worse, and Sandra was feeling like she was to blame for Jackie not going to Duke. We wanted to help with any of their burdens that we possibly could, even if being over 200 miles away made it difficult. Kevin took a couple of days off work, and we were off to Columbia, just hoping we would be the first ones to see Sandra when she came out of the recovery room.

A Time to Heal...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 3

The closing of our house had been delayed about 3 times. We were beginning to wonder if it would ever happen. It was August, and we were growing antsy. We told our realtor to continue showing our house while the buyer was getting his financing straightened out. We wanted to be patient, but we also wanted to keep our options open. Finally, at the end of August, we closed on the house. It was a joyous occasion! We decided that we would celebrate by taking our children bowling. A large group from our church ended up going along. We had a great time of fun and fellowship.

August brought a lot of ups and downs for us. The closing of the house, the trouble at church...it was very difficult. My husband was under an untold amount of pressure with the issues of the families that left. We had so many unanswered questions, and no one but God who could answer them. Sometimes He answered. Sometimes He was silent. It was an emotional time for our children as well. After all, their friends left when the parents left. In a small church like ours, it feels like a divorce when people leave. You remember all the good times and wonder why it had to change. I still don't have all the answers, but I do have the peace I need.

One day, I called Sandra to see how her recent ortho appointment went. She was exuberant! The tissue in her finger was growing back. The finger that was once black and dead was now pink and alive. Her surgeon was amazed. In fact he told Sandra, "I don't care where I am or what I am doing, if you ever see me, I want you to show me your finger again. All of my medical textbooks say that your finger should have been amputated. I just can't believe what I'm looking at today!"

Sandra had experienced a miracle! And it gave her so much hope. She had been able to return to work for a little while, but her back was still a huge problem. Pain medication was necessary, and she found it difficult to do without it. Still, she felt as if the spine specialist would be able to help her.

If she could just get her back problem resolved, Jackie would be free to go to Duke. He wouldn't leave her at home in the condition she was in. Sandra was constantly pressing Jackie to set up the initial visit at Duke, but he kept putting it off. She thought he was just trying to let the whole thing go, give up, in a way. But really, his procrastination kept him by Sandra's side when she needed him the most.

A Time to Plant...To Every Thing a Season chpt. 2

July had come so quickly! All the wedding pandemonium had died down, and Sandra was back to her regular routine. She loved yard work, as was evident when you drove up to her home. Her yard was meticulously landscaped. She had all kinds of concrete statuary, plants, flowers...she really knew how to make a yard a haven. She was never gaudy or chintzy; she was "classy" all the way!

Kevin and I were going through some pretty big changes in our lives. We had put our home on the market nearly a year prior to this time. At the beginning of July, we had finally had a buyer. With a contract on our home, we moved into the basement of our church. It allowed us more time and liberty with moving our things, especially since the buyers wanted to close in only 19 days.

We had also experienced tremendous difficulty in the ministry. We had a couple of families leave the church, which absolutely broke our hearts. There were lies and deception, but there was also just plain old misunderstandings that led up to this. It was very trying, but little did I know that darker days were ahead. I can remember feeling like I would die; my heart literally hurt. I wanted to scream out to the whole world, but I was silenced by the ache of knowing that it would do no good. People will think what they will and do what they will. All I could do was pray and keep myself right with the Lord. That wasn't easy because I held so much resentment towards the ones that left. It took a long time before I could pray, I mean really pray, for those that left. The Lord has given me victory in that area, and God alone knows that I really love them. But during this time, it was devestating. And it only compounded the grief that was in store for us.

One day while living at the church, Sandra called Kevin. She had been planting flowers and was moving one of the huge planters across her patio. She had taken on more than she could handle. As she was rolling the planter on it's side, (it was much too heavy for even a man to pickup by himself) her index finger on her right hand was accidentally crushed underneath. Fortunately, her husband Jackie was home. He heard her screams and ran outside to see what in the world was wrong. He took her to the local emergency room. I'm not sure how many stitches it required, but the ER doctor told Sandra to see an orthopaedic surgeon immediately. The tissue in her finger was dead, and amputation was almost certain.

As she talked with Kevin, she sounded so frail and weak. Of course she had been in a great deal of pain, but she sounded so helpless, in need of a miracle. He promised to pray that her finger would heal. It was a long shot. Her ortho surgeon, who was a classmate and high school friend of Kevin's, said that it was doubtful and tried to prepare Sandra for the worst. The pain was so severe, she missed weeks of work. Fortunately, she had plenty of personal time to take off, but it was frustrating to Sandra to miss work over a finger. But as a county real estate appraiser, she made great use of her hands. Her time off simply couldn't be helped.

Not only did Sandra inform Kevin of her finger, she informed him that her back was bothering her. She said she had been seeing a chiropractor for the back pain, but she wasn't getting any relief. She told us that she was scheduled to see a spine specialist in Columbia, SC with the hopes that her problem would soon be resolved.

After Kevin got off the phone with his Mom, he decided that it was time to take a trip to Camden. We visited around the third week in July. Her finger was all bandaged up, still threatened with amputation. By the time we made our trip, Sandra had visited the spine specialist and was wearing a brace.

Her back was now as big of an issue as her finger. X-Rays had determined that she had a cracked vertebrae around the lumbar region. Sandra had fallen down the steps of her back porch earlier in the winter, but didn't think there was any problem as a result. The doctor believed that her fall had broken her vertebrae. He said it wasn't uncommon to not experience pain or problems until months later.

Sandra was always an encouraging person to be around. She wouldn't let you mope and think the worst. I always called her "Mrs. Silver Lining." She was superb at pointing out the things to be grateful for, even when circumstances said otherwise. But, I could tell she was very down. She had always been in good health, so dealing with pain and physical problems of her own were new to her. Her husband Jackie was a different story; he was suffering from Pulmonary Fibrosis and Emphysema. In fact, just a few weeks prior to Sandra's planting accident, Jackie had taken a fall that resulted in a cracked rib. When the hospital ran the x-rays, his lungs were so scarred, the film was completely black. His pulmonologist gave him the ultimatum: have a double lung transplant or die a very ugly death.

Needless to say, Sandra wanted to get well so that Jackie could take his much needed trip to Duke University. She tried to get better, even if it was only a mental improvement. She knew Jackie needed her to be well before he could get new lungs. That was her goal; get better so Jackie could get better. The only problem was, Jackie was worse than we knew. And so was Sandra.

To Every Thing a Season....A Time to Dance

Today is my mother-in-law's birthday. Had she survived the widespread cancer that consumed her body, she would have celebrated her 61st birthday today. Unfortunately, we lost her almost three years ago. I personally have never seen someone suffer as much as Sandra did. It was horrible to watch; little did we know that we would lose her so fast.

I want to tell the story of how it happened, how we coped, and how we dealt with all the issues that come along with a terminal illness. I wish I had a different story to tell, but this is it. During the year prior to Sandra's death, it felt like we went through a lifetime of seasons. Joy, pain, love, disappointment...but I want to start off my story with a happy time. So, here's "A Time to Dance." I hope you will follow on this journey. I'll add a new "chapter" every few days.

A Time to Dance

It started out to be such a gloomy day, not the beautiful day you'd hope for with a wedding planned. April 9, 2005- Stephanie's wedding day. My sister in law had decided on an outdoor wedding. The skies threatened rain, but by the time the Bridal Brunch was over, the sun was starting to break through the clouds. By 1:00 p.m. (only two hours before the wedding), there was no trace of any clouds. Sandra breathed a sigh of relief. Everything would go as planned.

The wedding took place outdoors at a family friend's house. The yard was beautiful! Azaleas in full bloom, gorgeous landscaping. The house was in a lakeside neighborhood, making the "beach theme" for the wedding a gleaming success. I have to say, my mother-in-law spared no expense. Everything was done to her normal perfection standard. A canoe held ice chilled glass bottles filled with flavored soda. The unity candle was a tiki torch adorned with layers of ribbons. The food was exquisite, consisting of seafood galore. The "aisle" the bride walked was soft white sand, and the entire bridal party was barefooted. Stephanie was married under a gazebo lit by torches. The private lake in the background...it was really a sight to behold!

The wedding went off without a hitch. Not only did the bride look beautiful, so did the mother of the bride. She looked fantastic! Sandra was elated that all her hard work was behind her, and that everything had gone so smoothly.

After the presentation of the new couple, the bride was led to the "dance floor." There to the side of the yard was a parquet floor for the new couple to have their first dance. They danced a slow waltz, and everyone just gazed at how happy they looked. James, my father-in-law, stepped up behind the groom and tapped his shoulder. It was time for the bride to dance with her father. Okay, I'm not one for dancing, but I couldn't help but cry. It was a very classy moment, very touching. Soon, the groom was dancing with his mother, then Sandra. Again, very touching. There they were, waltzing with their parents...it just touched me so. No one else in the bridal party danced, just the bride and groom and their parents. It was really something to see...all of the guests were silently watching from the deck of the house, looking down at this beautiful couple and their parents. For Stephanie and Brad, it was a time to dance. A time to rejoice. A new life, a new journey.

The reception followed the dance. Everyone mingled, laughed, and talked. We were enjoying the 70 degree weather and taking in the breathtaking surroundings. Sandra and her husband Jackie were glowing! My mother-in-law's heart was as light as a feather. The whole family shared in the joy of the occasion, but Sandra was beaming.

Soon, we all said goodbye to the newlyweds. Night had fallen, and Brad and Stephanie were ushered through a line of guests holding sizzler fire sticks. After they left, Kevin and I talked with his mom and Jackie for a little while then headed home ourselves.

The following Tuesday I called Sandra to see how she was doing. She sounded absolutely wore out. She informed me that she didn't even get out of PJ's on Monday and that she had done very little on Tuesday. With all of her work on the wedding, that was completely understandable. Kevin and I commended her on the wedding and we promised her we would visit soon. Before we knew it, summer had arrived.