_______Healing and Hope

Boppa had his last chemo session this week!  He rang the bell, to the applause of the other cancer patients nearby, announcing that he is finished and moving on.  Typically he feels the worst two days after he gets the chemo, which would be today.  In the days that follow, he starts to feel better and better until his next chemo treatment, when the cycle starts again.  And each cycle gets progressively harder on his body than the first.  While the rest of us have periodically wept and floundered around him, Boppa, like a soldier, has stoically endured every moment of feeling bad, knowing that it was necessary to win the battle.  He has faced:

• Fatigue
• Hair loss
• Loss of taste and smell
• Incessantly watery eyes and dripping nose
• Bad, overpowering metalic taste in mouth at all times

Many people have experienced an illness in the family before and know what it feels like to see someone you love get weaker and sicker as the weeks go by.  In my dad's case, we knew that the weakness and sickness were for a good cause: so that his body could be rid of the cancer.  But even knowing that did not make it easy to see him feeling crummy day after day.  After all, he's my dad.

Mom and Dad when they were carefree teenagers in love

(aren't they adorable?!)

Dad the day I was born

When I was a kid, all the neighborhood boys used to be scared of my dad because he was so big.  And he kept all the kids busy with games of baseball and water fights.  If anyone in the world was to be invincible, in my mind it would have been my dad.  When he came home from work, I would run to greet him and literally jump on him.  But I remember well the day when he told me I was too big to do that anymore.  He was strong, but not without limitations.

I'm probably about 13 in this picture (just guessing by the attitude)

In college, when I picked up Mom and Dad from the airport after not seeing them for half a year, I remember a feeling of sadness and shock at seeing some new gray in my dad's brown hair.  He had always been so young and healthy, and I never pictured him getting old.  And yet, there was the proof, sprinkled into his hair.

Mom and Dad the year I moved off to college (don't they look relieved?)

And now that he has been laid low for the first time, I am thankful beyond description that he has every chance of being healthy again for a long time to come.  Ours is not a devastating story of loss, but one of healing and hope!  However, the experience has forced me to admit that even my dad is not stronger than death.  I have lived a very sheltered life, experiencing very little loss or grief.  I have always known my turn would come (I'm not being pessimistic, here, it's just a reality from which I have so far been spared) and I have wondered if I would be able to hold firm to what I believe in the face of it.

Dad at the beginning of the chemo treatments (June this year) before his hair fell out.  He felt awful this day but was still trying to play with Isaac.

When we first found out my dad had cancer and the doctors were less than optimistic about his chances, I was forced for a few days to stare face to face into the prospects of a future I was hoping never to experience.  And, although I felt frightened, and numb, and sad, I clung tightly to the promise that God is in control and ultimately has our best interests at heart.  Sometimes it's hard to see that in the face of a challenge.  As the pastor at our church is fond of saying, "God is more concerned with our character than our comfort."  Although I knew it would be hard to see my dad get sick, in the light of eternity, I found some comfort knowing that God was at work in us all the while.

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us."  (Romans 5:3-5)

And no matter how hard I imagined it could get in those first few days of not knowing, I comforted myself that, although God does allow trials in our life, He does so with the promise of walking beside us along the way:

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you.  For I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior..."  (Isaiah 43:2-3a)

I am thankful beyond description that God has given us just a small season of suffering.  He has mercifually allowed our characters to grow with baby steps these past few months.  And Dad has been able to keep working this whole time and even exercising when he felt well enough.  On the whole, this experience has been much easier than we first feared.  But I pray that we will not forget what it felt like to trust in God beyond our own understanding.

Dad in October at the breastcancer walk in downtown Houston.

And today, with my dad's last chemo treatment completed, he will have his last worst day. After today, he will start to feel better and better without having to repeat the cycle!  His body and his immune system will begin to heal and grow stronger. I am excited for my dad to be able to taste food again!  For half a year, he has eaten without any taste other than that awful metal.  I am excited for him to lose the watery eyes and the dripping nose.  I don't care too much about whether he gets back his hair again...I think he's handsome either way!  But I am excited for him to feel well enough to play with his grandkids again!  I'm excited that he will be healthy enough to hug and kiss them again too!  I'm thankful that we get to have our Boppa back!

More Boppa stories are yet to come.  As I said, ours is a story of healing and hope.  We love you, Boppa!