Everyday Miracles

Miracles are the small things that surround us each day. 

Sometimes you are led to things that help you to regain perspective.  Take tonight for instance.  I just came home from watching the movie "Miracles From Heaven."  (If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend it, but bring the tissues.  LOTS of them.)

One of the key messages of the movie is that miracles aren't always big and grand, but rather the small things that surround us every day.

I reflected on this message as I drove home tonight.  Our family has, and is, truly surrounded by miracles.  Each and every day...

• A text or call from a friend checking in to see how we are doing.
• Cards, notes, and get well wishes that come in the mail and bring a smile to our face.
• Special gifts of hope and love - a prayer shawl, t-shirt, necklace, chemo buddy - physical reminders of the strength of faith, hope, and courage as we undertake this battle.
• A note or message to share a special memory.
• Family visits, that include a tremendous amount of help and support.
• An invitation to spend time together- going to a movie, taking a walk, going golfing, dinner out, game night.
• People taking the time and walking with us to raise funds to find a cure for pancreatic cancer.
• Donations to pancreatic cancer research, in honor of Chad
• Prayers, prayers, and more prayers.
• A message on facebook to say "hey, I'm thinking about you today."
• Dinners prepared and delivered to our family and gift cards for meals.
• Impromptu visits - just to say hi.
• Anonymous donations to a medical fund, set up by an anonymous person.
• A kind word, smile, or hug, with an inquiry about how we are doing.
• Understanding employers 
• Friends that lend a shoulder and listen to the venting and crying and questions
• Those supporting our journey by following Chad's story on the facebook page
• Positive posts or pictures shared with us
• And so very many more..

If you are reading this, I hope that you see yourself in one or more of these miracles.  Because simply stated - our friends and family are our miracles.  You are the ones that help us to get up each day and continue to fight this battle.  

Yes, we believe in big miracles.  We will keep believing and hoping for big miracles.  But please know, it's the small miracles that keep us afloat day by day.

Thank you for being the miracles in our lives.

~Darcy

I Decline

Earlier this week I responded to a Facebook post from a parent of a former student.  She had posted a picture of a very grown up young lady that I had the privilege to teach as a first grader.  When she remarked that this young lady was about to become a teenager, I responded with "I decline that reality."

Later that night, I thought about that phrase and how well it fits my current life.

Oh, how I would love to decline my current reality.

I decline the reality that we don't know what the future brings.

I decline the reality that I cannot fix this gaping issue that clouds every aspect of our lives.

I decline the reality that my husband currently has more prescriptions a month than he has probably had in our entire 20 + years of  marriage.

I decline the reality that the only hope for treatment brings with it a host of side effects and complications that are horrible for him to endure.

I decline the reality that my children have to face this and that our grandson may never get the chance to truly know and remember his Pappy.  And that I might not have the opportunity to grow old with him.

I decline  the reality of the statistics that go along with this diagnosis.

I decline the reality that cancer has taken over our lives.

I decline my current reality.

Oh, how I wish I could REALLY do that.  I wish that I could decline what has overtaken our lives and become the reality with which we live.

This weekend brought an anniversary of sorts.  Three months ago, Chad was hospitalized and underwent his first test that hinted that something more serious might be going on than the gall bladder issue we thought we were dealing with.  We had no idea what the preliminary result of that test would be. The results that would lead to further tests, and a conversation a few short days later that would tear our world apart.

The doctor taking me into a small consultation room and saying..."I found a tumor in the pancreas.  It is likely cancer."  And a few weeks later, the news that it had spread to other organs.  Not only cancer, but Stage IV cancer.  

You know, we don't really use that word at our house.

Cancer

It's a bad word -- a word that if it remains unspoken, won't be so daunting.  But, unspoken or not, it IS our reality.  As much as I want to decline it, it isn't going away.

But my friends, we are strong--we are brave--we will continue to fight.  We will do anything we can to keep this monster at bay.

But I hope that you'll all excuse me while I take a break and bury my head in the sand...and decline this reality.

At least for a few minutes.

~Darcy