Temporary Home

I'm listening to the song "Temporary Home" by Carrie Underwood right now. It's a very poignant song, beautifully written, and very spiritual. It couldn't be more appropriate for what my extended family and I are going through right now. My Uncle has recently been sent home from the hospital and assigned to hospice care. It's been a long road that has brought us to a (seemingly) large precipice.

Last year, doctors discovered a tumor and he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Surgery was performed to remove the tumor, and chemotherapy was prescribed even though the doctors were fairly certain they had removed all of the malignant tissues. After several months of treatment, He was pronounced cancer free. Around Christmas (or shortly thereafter) he began to have some of the same symptoms again, and was becoming very dehydrated. Eventually he was hospitalized again, and they discovered the cancer was back. The doctors believed that another round of chemo would make him sicker and more miserable than he already was, and only had about a 15% chance of working if he did decide to go that route. He decided to forgo the treatment, and was sent home and assigned to hospice care. It's a difficult thing to accept.

He and my Dad have been very close for as long as I can remember. He's always been a safe haven for me, and I know, for many of my cousins, aunts, and uncles. I've literally never known life without him. He's changed my diapers, heard some of my first words, and actively listened to my childhood chatter as though it were vitally important. In my teen years, he was one of the few adults I trusted enough to confide in. I knew his love was a constant, I knew his arms were always open for me to run into anytime I needed. I knew he was a person who prayed for me daily, and I knew that no matter how mad he was at me from time to time, his love overshadowed whatever anger he had toward me. Now, as an adult, he has listened patiently to me talk about love, marriage, conflicts with my parents (we all have them, people!), discipline of children, conflicts with my husband (why, why, why, oh why is my family always on my husband's side? Could it be I'm that unreasonable? No...that can't be it! ), work, money, politics, and even my relationship with God. I'm losing one of my best friends. Truly. He's too young to be dying, but that is exactly what is happening.

I feel cheated, because I can't be there in his final days. If he isn't suffering (which he tells me he isn't), I hope he's able to hold on long enough to meet Andrew (our baby due next month), and hold him. It would mean so much. He's met and held and played with my other two boys. He so enjoyed them and the little mini vacation he had when we flew him out here, and he was a wonderful house guest. I'm so glad we were able to get him out here 3 years ago (it's been that long) when he was healthy and able to get around. We had so much fun...and he wore me out! A couple of days before he left, I took him to Waikiki, and we walked all over hell and creation. I had a charlie horse in the back of my leg the next day, and the old coot didn't complain of so much as a sore back! I'm glad I could create those memories so I could remember him the way he'd want to be remembered: happy, fun, active, passionately devoted to family, and full of life.

Saying goodbye (really, "see you later" since I know where he's going, and I strive every day to be deserving of going to the same place when my time comes) to him is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Getting sober was easier (staying sober, too!), because I know that if I work a program of honesty, continue to keep my side of the street clean, continue to seek God's face, & work with others, God will keep me sober. I can seek God's face all I want for my Uncle's healing (and I do believe in Divine Healing), but if it's his time to go, there is nothing I can do to change God's mind. Please pray for my family, my Uncle, and me, as we walk this journey together. The road is rough, but we know paradise lays ahead for our dear loved one, and we will meet again one day.

"Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies." John 11:25