Last week, I was called back to my doctor’s office after a test during a physical exam returned with some suspicious results. I thought I was to simply do a repeat of the initial test, but instead was led to the surgical room for a biopsy. My doctor tends to be fairly laid back and said he wasn’t too worried but wanted to follow through just in case.
Of course, it’s always the “just in case” that catches you. I’ve been called back before, so this wasn’t my first cancer scare. It was my third. But the number isn’t as important as my inward response and how it’s changed each time.
The last call-back happened about a year ago. I’d recently lost a friend to cancer, and the thought that I might go through something similar frightened me. I could feel the panic rising up within me the closer I came to my appointment. My husband was out of town for the follow-up, so I felt even more alone in my thoughts and couldn’t help but ponder how my children would do without a mother.
This time around, another friend had recently passed. But instead of allowing that to increase my panic, I had a different reaction. There were a few fleeting moments of worry, but even more pervasive was an inward calm, and I realized that if the news were bad, I would be readier to hear it now.
I’m happy to say the results were benign. For that, I rejoice! Even so, it’s been interesting for me to realize that death no longer scares me like it once did. That’s not to say I’m jumping at the chance to make a hasty exit from this world. No, I love my life, and I don’t want my children, husband, friends and extended family to carry that burden. But as I work to abandon my will to make way for God’s in all things, I realize that the timing of my earthly cessation is not in my hands. And if my time were to come, those who love me would be okay. My role as mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend would not cease, even if it would change.
Certainly, the recent passing of my friends Ryan and Roberta have had a great deal to do with my new sense of calm. Both were incredibly faith-filled to the end, and their examples of dying inspired me greatly. So I couldn’t help but think this past week, “If Roberta could do this, if Ryan could do this, so could I.”
It’s somewhat akin to when I was going through my first pregnancy alongside a friend who also was experiencing her first pregnancy. She delivered first, and I remember talking to her on the phone a few days later, asking, “Was it as bad as you thought it would be?” “Worse,” she replied, and yet she had survived it, and she had a new, precious son at her side. Life had conquered suffering.
Death no longer feels like a far-off event. But I’ve also witnessed how life continues on. Recently, I attended a birthday celebration of the husband of my friend Laura, who died in 2000. Yes, there is still a bittersweetness that hangs in the air whenever her dear ones gather, but there is also a vibrant, palpable sense of LIFE. I’ve witnessed the carrying on of children and spouses of these dear people, and I realize death’s hold, no matter how difficult, is still very fleeting.
Before I received the good news on Wednesday, I had the distinct thought that God is preparing me for something special. Over the last several years, I’ve received a great amount of healing. All the work that has led to the healing is beginning to manifest itself in numerous life-giving ways. So my specific thought was, “God is preparing me for something special; either to be carried out here on earth or in heaven.” And I felt excited, because I knew that wherever God would bring me, it would be incredible.
I realize if ever the tests are different and my ending time does come sooner than later, I’ll have a lot to process and it won’t be so simple. But for now, I feel a sense of surrender I’ve not felt before. This latest “test” revealed some new things to me about myself and where I’m at interiorly.
I’m so happy to know that I have at least another day with you all, and am delighted to think it could be even longer than that. What a Christmas gift! But being aware of a new inward peace that had not been present earlier, a peace I could have drawn on had the results been different, was a wondrous feeling.
Q4U: What about you? Do you feel ready to die? If not, what do you feel you need to do first?
What a relief. I’ve heard of two cancer diagnoses this month. A mom my age, and another friend’s dad. So, the “what if” is a reality. Of course, we could be perfectly healthy and have a fatal crash on these icy roads. Each day is a gift. Live into it. Yes, I’m afraid to die and leave everyone. I’m more afraid of having a debilitating illness and not having someone in my home who loves me and is willing and able to take care of me. Go, celebrate life and good health!
I’m so glad everything is okay, Roxane. You are such a strong example of faith. I’m not afraid of death, so much as afraid of leaving my children. I’ve always believed I will be with the Lord when I die, and how could that not be wonderful? But I have yet to make peace with the idea of leaving my children without their mama. The thought hurts me. I know that is just my earthly humanity, but it still hurts.
Roxane, such eloquent words for a topic near to my heart. I too feel a certain calmness about the end of my life, whether near or far. Maybe its because I haven’t had to face it, but a part of me feels so blessed for all that I have already been given in this life. Maybe in surrendering, we are really just gearing up for our most important work yet. Thank you for your thoughts today, and I too am so glad your news was the best news possible!
Roxane, Scary..I am glad everything turned out OK. You are growing in your faith and in your confidence as a Christian. ( I say scary ..because you have all those beautiful children who need their Mom)
I have been ready a long time now..until you are I don’t think that you really appreciate living..somehow it is like a surrender to the Almighty who is really in charge of us anyhow:)
Mary, Shannon and Vicky, thanks for the small celebration of life right here on Peace Garden Mama. 🙂 I appreciate the kindness all of you bestow on me time and again. I feel very grateful for you!
Far Side, I just found your comment. I feel better somehow knowing you’d already embraced this long ago. I think it does take having lost others to really grasp death in this way. Thanks for sharing a bit of how you’ve processed it. You’ve described it well in that last line!