I admit I am sometimes remiss in remembering to observe milestone anniversaries in a timely manner, but in my defense, there are some legit reasons for that.
For instance, my dad passed away in June of 2022. I know the exact date of course, but I don't always reflect on losing him when the anniversary rolls around.
In another instance, the second anniversary of Mom ringing the bell at the cancer treatment center is coming up in just a few short weeks. On the first anniversary, I didn't pause to reflect on the exact day (though I did a few days later).
In both cases, the day-to-day workload was one thing that caused me to back-burner those anniversaries. But in the case of my dad's, something else was at play: the fact that it's too painful to think about that day and the circumstances around it.
It doesn't mean that it has been completely overlooked. I just have to try and do it when I can bring myself to think about it and (hopefully) not become overwhelmed with sadness.
One week before #FathersDay last year, I lost my dad. Though technically I've already gone through my 1st Father's Day w/o him, this one feels like the 1st. After all this time, I still can't delete his number from my cell. My mom still has his old phone, which he kept up w/ his… pic.twitter.com/LZZP6WhFQt
— Sister Toldjah 💙 (@sistertoldjah) June 18, 2023
In the case of my mom's bell ringing anniversary, it's a reminder that while the treatments that were prescribed are, mercifully, over - a big hurdle cleared, to be sure - there are the constant worries for me that there could be a recurrence.
And if there was, what would we do? What would she decide?
As I've talked about before, there would be no pressure from me, because she's already been through so much. If she was just too tired to pursue treatment a second time around, I would understand, because something I learned through my dad's health journey was that at a certain point it was unfair to demand someone keep fighting.
Though I can't really explain how to "know" when that point is, it's something you just figure out at a certain point if you're around the person long enough.
As we approach the next round of lab work (which will be done in a week or so) and then after that her two-year bell-ringing anniversary, I was reminded once again about the power of prayer from someone else who is having to fight colon cancer - conservative author and Daily Wire reporter Megan Basham, who wrote this on her Twitter/X page Monday after having the procedure to put in her chemo port:
Even as I’m laying on table while they’re setting me up for the procedure, they’re reassuring me that many patients have success with this treatment but also reminding me “the outcome belongs to the Lord and he brings miracles everyday.”
And I’m just sitting there thinking, where else would you experience this kind of open encouragement from sisters in Christ in a such a vulnerable and frightening moment? This was literally a nursing staff of about five or six women I was chatting with.
People (even some well-known evangelical leaders) sometimes sneer that the Bible Belt is just “cultural Christianity” and not real. But I can’t tell you how often I have encounters with folks and daily life where it clearly IS real. And this authentic, shared love of Christ is the picture of the body of the Church caring for and serving one another in their own unique capacities.
The power of faith, prayer, was absolutely what got both mom and me through everything we went through, from losing dad to her diagnosis and treatment and, now, the periodic follow-ups to see if all the numbers and scans look okay and show nothing of concern. And I'm not just talking about us praying from time to time; it was also the prayers from family members, friends and the online community that were everything to us.
We both know with cancer that encouraging news one day doesn't necessarily mean encouraging news at a future visit to the oncologist's office. But what does give us strength and comfort is in knowing that God is in control of all things.
This is one big reason why it angers me when Democrats sneer at "thoughts and prayers." As mom is fond of saying, praying is the best thing you can do for someone going through tough times. It's something to remember when you feel helpless and hopeless about a situation you or someone you love and care about is going through.
RELATED: To read my previous Caregiver's Diary entries, please click here.
