Thank you for taking time to follow Meaghan's journey of healing as she battles Medulloblastoma, a form of brain cancer.

Meaghan, our five year old daughter, was diagnosed early November 2009 after an MRI revealed she had a 4 cm solid tumor in her cerebellum. The tumor resection, while successful, resulted in serious complications.

Cancer is a family affair and here I try to chronicle not only Meg's journey, but our whole family's as well.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

A Moleski Advent

Maddy, Ethan and I have been home sick with sore throats, headaches and drippy noses. We are successfully on the mend now. I have enjoyed playing nursemaid to the big kids, but...

The house is empty. Our tiny bungalow, usually swelling with noises and activity and sibling fights, well, it just seems to echo. Sure Maddy and Ethan still fight and play, but there's no resonance to it. The toys up in the girls' room are untouched. Maddy refuses to sleep or play up there.

One of my favorite things to do is wash dishes. We don't have a dishwasher and our kitchen window overlooks our backyard and garage. I used to love staring out the window while washing dishes. It was an easy way to ruminate on the day's events, but now I struggle to find continuity. The Christmas ornaments decorating the potting bench sway absently. My collection of Christmas stained glass hanging from the kitchen window is lackluster at best.

Perhaps I haven't been around long enough to notice that home isn't home anymore. We have all been feeling it. Ed and I, running our split shifts, are more insulated from Meg's absence. But being home with Maddy and Ethan, I feel the lack of purpose, the aimlessness of it all.

The Christmas tree doesn't shimmer like it did before. No one cares if the dogs get anything in their stockings. No one is agonizing over which cookie recipes to select. No one is playing with the Nativity. No one is reading nightly from the years of collected Christmas books. I think we've only lit the advent candles twice.

Daily living seems like an after thought. Our focus is on this elusive calendar that conceals Meg's homecoming. The kids aren't focused on Christmas Day's bounty of gifts. They- we - are focused on Meg's homecoming.

Advent is defined as "a time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of the Nativity of Jesus at Christmas." While we try to prepare our hearts for the promised birth of our Savior, we also wait expectantly for Meaghan's homecoming.

Families too many to be numbered struggle with the uncertainty of a loved one's return. The apprehension and singular desire of expectant families makes the Western celebration of Christmas seem perverse in its excess. Despite our best attempts at retail therapy and material distractions, I'd venture our true hearts' desire is to celebrate family - however we define that word.

What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
-- George Eliot

1 comment:

  1. Amy, as your loving friend I am meeting you here in this dark place and telling you, "This journey is too long. I know it's hard but it's not safe to stay here. Take my hand and let's start moving - we have to go now." "For God did not give us the spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power and of love and of self discipline." 2Timothy 1:7. Where is that woman I sat with in the hospital who was going to find the blessing in each day? Do not let Satan steal your joy. Our reasons for joy are manifold. We have joy that medical advances (as cruddy as they are to endure) will destroy the cancer and restore Meaghan to us. But even if that weren't the case we hold onto the real reason for our joy - "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation (including cancer) will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39. With your eyes fixed on the Source of our joy, you will find the joy in this Advent (your family's and our Christmas prelude). And if in looking around you are not seeing it, then girlfriend, make some. Maddie and Ethan and Meaghan are counting on you and our Heavenly Father will enable you to do this. "We have to go now. We have to keep moving." I love you my friend.


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