Tonight I am heavy-hearted.
My parents came over early this morning to treat the kids and I to breakfast and find some garage sales. I come from a long line of garage sale fanatics. It's what we do on the weekends during the summer. The kids ran up to the car as soon as it pulled into the driveway, practically knocking my mom over in the rush to give her a hug. Her and dad were all smiles, getting that special look that grandparents get when they see their grandchildren. I stand back and observe, as I love to watch it. When the kids have sufficently smothered MeeMaw and PawPaw with chatter and affection, I go to give mom a hug. She sighs.
"Ann's in the hospital again," she says, speaking of my aunt. "She's got a blood clot."
"Oh, no," I say, giving mom a kiss.
"And your sister has a problem."
I look at mom's face, thinking I know the problem and wondering if I'm right. I thought there might be trouble between Teresa and her new husband. But Mom's mouth quivers and her eyes become moist. "She had a colonoscopy done. They found a mass..."
I don't remember her exact words. But they believe the mass to be malignant.
My sister is 42. The mother of four boys. A widow of cancer. A newlywed.
She will have surgery next week. We will know more then.
It's difficult to put words to the emotions. I'm not sure I can. I am asking everyone to pray. For what? I don't know. My faith is stretching thin, but I know God is sovereign, and it is only in Him that I have any hope at all.
My first thoughts are selfish. But this is far-reaching. Teresa's boys are our greatest concern.
Pray for them. Pray for her. Pray for my parents. Pray for us all.