How sweet the sound

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I watched as medicine dripped for hours to kill the poisonous cancer.

Last month, I took mama’s only sibling to her ninth chemotherapy treatment. Her prognosis is good, unlike some of the others who were visiting the cancer center.

There were rooms full of people. Hundreds of them. Some were waiting to see a doctor. Some were waiting for scans. Some were receiving treatment. Hundreds of them, and it was just Wednesday. The next day and the day after saw hundreds more. She thinks I was brave while I was sitting alongside her, but I was sad and so scared for all those people and their families. When she’d fall asleep, I’d look around and people watch. My tears would sneak out and drip, drip, drip.

Today, instead of sitting in the cancer center watching medicine enter her body, I was sitting at work, waiting to hear the news that it all was over.

My aunt Dawn rang the bell at 12:30 p.m., signifying that she is done with chemo treatment No. 12 and ready to enjoy life without being sick, without mobile chemo ports or hours in a chair while medicine falls through an IV.

Today, it was tears of joy going drip, drip, drip.

She grabbed ahold of that bell and its noise drowned out the pain and worry in so many hearts.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Break free.

๐Ÿ›Ž ๐Ÿ›Ž ๐Ÿ›Ž

 

 

A first kiss under a tree. Now he’s forever 14.

If there was one thing I could bank on when I was a kid, it was that Jason would be on my front porch, waiting for me to finish my supper so we could play basketball.

It was like clockwork.

Every day, Daddy came home from work at the same time — nearly to the second.

Mama would have home-cooked goodness ready 30 minutes later. Then we’d all sit down together and eat.

As long as it wasn’t raining or snowing, my neighbor Jason would be sitting right past the screen door, ready for a game of H-O-R-S-E.

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She even giggled through cancer

It has been said about many people after they pass away.

But when I say my aunt Pam was one of the nicest people on this Earth, it’s because I’m not sure if there’s life on other planets or she’d be immediately upgraded to the nicest person in the universe.

Pam giggled freely and had a childlike spirit about her.

She really did see the good in things, even when her body was being attacked by a horrible disease. She seemed grateful for every day, even over the course of the eight years of tests and medications and chemotherapy and surgeries and weeks and weeks and weeks in the hospital.

But she never stopped giggling. Continue reading