Me : "Not much, no."
She said those words to me months ago, and since then I've held back tears and I've let them loose. I've cried over her, next to her, for her and with her. In silence and in prayers. In her presence and absence. More tears than she can imagine would come from me... the woman who doesn't cry... much.
Last August, on a typical Friday morning, the three of us gathered around the kitchen counter for coffee while the littles played a bit. Not out of the ordinary for the three of us. As we were wrapping things up and getting ready to go about our days the words that crossed her lips will never be forgotten... "I found a lump, that's why I have to go to the Dr. today. That's why we have to wrap this up early today."
And she went. And they did a mammogram. And they did a biopsy. And the results kept coming and the news kept changing. And the tears kept flowing. Tears of fear. Tears of frustration. Tears of love and joy and more fear. Tears for her. Tears for her husband. Her boys. Her parents and siblings and family and friends. So many friends. So many good people who were about to pour out blessings on this precious lady. So many blessings that only a few weeks into this journey she would say to me, "Why is everyone being so good to me? Why do I deserve this more than someone else? Why?"
"Because you are a special light to so many. Because good people are drawn to good people and YOU are good people. Because we love you."
Yesterday I didn't cry. I know S did. She always cries. She's a crier. She cries enough for both of us. So she cried those tears of joy when the message came. The best message. The message we've been praying for since September. "I am technically cancer-free... Praise God for this!"
Today I wanted to cry. Tears of joy and amazement at God's good grace. Because these were the words her little boy said to me, with the most sparkle and zest I've seen from him in months (and that's saying a LOT, this kid is zesty, let me tell you!) He said to us all...
"Did you know my mom's cancer is gone? That she's cancer-free!? MY MOM IS CANCER FREE YOU GUYS!!!"
And the whoops and hollers and cheers and celebrations that came from the three kids in the back of my van made me want to pull over on the street and pull them all to me and cry big, fat, ugly, joyful, praise-fill crocodile tears. Because only one of those kids belongs to her... but all three of them love her fiercely. She's lovable, this lady who just beat cancer. This warrior who has a long road of recovery ahead, but who has the biggest cheering section I've ever seen.
I'm not a cryer, but today's eruption of joy still pushes me to the edge of tears. Don't ask me to talk to you right now or they'll spill out all over my keyboard. It'll be messy. So just don't... because I don't (want to) cry.
One week ago this morning I held this lady in my arms as she prepared herself to go in for surgery. And I said to her, "I'm so excited for you today. This is an amazing day for you."
And we took a selfie.
And I didn't cry... much. (Just a little dewiness in the corners of the eyes, ya know?)
Then I watched as her oldest cried big crocodile tears and sobbed on his mommas shoulder, knowing where her day was taking her. And my dew-drops grew, but not too much. They let each other go and we walked out the door for school. And I said to that little boy the only words I could find, "This is a great day for your mom. This is going to be amazing and I am excited for her. It's ok to be scared, but this is really a great thing!"
Then I went straight to S's house and we prayed and we cried and we chatted and we knew God is good. So good. Because we are part of Ashli's Army of Prayer Warriors. And that day we prayed and prayed and prayed some more. Throughout the day we prayed for peace, comfort, healing and for Ashli's freedom from cancer. So very many prayed that day.So to hear Big B exclaim today, with SO much excitement and happiness, those words we've prayed for...
"Did you know my mom's cancer is gone? That she's cancer-free!? MY MOM IS CANCER FREE YOU GUYS!!!"
Well,
I cried over you.
