A Silver Lining

A few weeks ago I was surfing Netflix and came across Family Man. I watched the trailer and got distracted when I realized Gerard Butler was starring. I hadn’t seen him in anything lately so I added it to my watch list and moved on.

A week or so later hubby and I were planning to watch a movie so I told him to choose one from my list. I didn’t think much about it, and I definitely couldn’t remember anything about the trailer I had unknowingly tuned out.

I don’t know if this really makes sense, but since hubby has had cancer I find myself doing things and later vaguely remembering doing them. At times, I am so consumed with my thoughts I walk around in an automated fashion, going through the motions and not being certain I have completed any tasks. It’s a strange feeling when I think about it, but I believe it’s called “having too much on your mind.”

I have never been a person who needed to write everything down to remember it, so why would I start now?

The movie started, and I was thinking we were going to watch a sweet, sentimental family movie. The kind where the husband works too much, puts his job before everything, and will have a coming to Jesus realization in the end, and choose family over everything. What I got was a sensation making me feel like someone had punched me in the throat! I immediately wanted to stop the movie and turn on something else. I don’t watch movies like this. I don’t have it in me. 

Cuddled up with my blanket on one corner of the couch I sat and watched a mother seated on her cancer stricken son’s bed, sobbing. A million emotions running through my mind, tears welling in my eyes, thinking I knew exactly how she felt. 

I was pushing back the tears, trying to be strong, trying not to cry. I knew exactly what she was going through. She felt scared, alone, and her world out of control. She was wondering what the future holds, how it feels thinking you are going to lose a loved one, and how scary the unknown is. I knew exactly how she felt. 

As I sat there and watched her losing hope, I realized something. I had no idea how she felt at all. I didn’t feel that hurt she felt. That pain she felt. I didn’t feel that at all. My child isn’t in that hospital bed. I don’t have a cancer stricken child.

Mothers aren’t suppose to watch their children be that sick, or potentially near death. Mothers aren’t suppose to watch their children die. How do you deal with that? I know what helplessness feels like, but I don’t know that. How do you deal with being helpless while looking at your child’s life flash in front of you? A child you gave birth to, who is yours and who you can no longer protect.

I can have everything taken away from me. EVERYTHING! But, I am so lucky to have had the honor to give birth to four children, raise them and be their mother. 

I cannot imagine my life without each of them. Sometimes it’s crazy when the girls are back from college and they are all home. At times it’s blissfully chaotic and other times it’s a struggle. It can be overwhelming and mentally hard, especially with their dad being sick, because I worry about how they are really doing.

Regardless of all of that, I am so blessed. I can think of all the negatives in my life, but the positives are what really matter. They have me, and I have them. There’s a silver lining in there, and I owe that to their dad and the Lord. And, I will be thankful for it for the rest of my life. xo