cancer

So I Have an Old Cat Now

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

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My cat Lucy turned 15 yesterday. It’s still hard to comprehend that she’s that old because she doesn’t act that old. And if you ask her, she’ll swear up and down that she’s only 9.

I remember picking her out of a litter of one-week old kittens at Vet Pets, a pet store/veterinary clinic, in 2000. I equally remember bringing her home in that hole-y cardboard box when she was five weeks old and how she cried all the way home.

I remember how she got lost when she was three and was gone for two days, the longest two days of my life. But we found her. Apparently, she went up to some strange lady’s door and essentially asked, “I’ve lost my person. Will you be my new person?” Thanks to some lost cat posters all over the neighborhood, the mailman recognized her as the missing cat and she came home to me on Christmas Eve.

Then there was the time she had cancer and it was 50/50 that surgery would get all of the tumor. I cried and prayed and even lit one of those prayer candles like they have in Roman Catholic churches for her. She got better. She’s still 100% cancer-free.

I hope she lives to be 30. That would be great. There’s a part of me that wishes that she’d at least outlive me. But realistically, I know that’s not possible. I know there will be a day when I’ll have to say a final goodbye to my little furry baby (and also to a little piece of my heart). I can’t focus on that but I can cherish every day I get to spend with her.

The same goes to the rest of those I love. I’m not guaranteed a tomorrow. Neither are they. That’s why I can only be thankful for each day that I get to spend with each one of them.

Don’t ever take the ones you love for granted. Don’t ever go to bed angry with a friend or a family member. You never know that you will get the chance in the morning to make it right. Always say the words “I love you” whenever you get the chance. Always.

Bittersweet Memories, Regrets, and Grace

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Today, I found out that a friend of mine who has cancer is in ICU. He’s septic and may not make it through the night. And if I’m honest, I didn’t really know him in high school. Or at least I don’t remember much about him. I regret that.

Lately, he’s been one of my biggest encouragers, even though what he’s going through is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever faced. I’m praying for one more miracle.

I find myself missing my childhood best friend Nathan. I miss my Grandmother Iris and my Granddaddy Bud. I miss both Uncle Bob and Uncle Monty. I even miss my high school homeroom teacher.

I have lots of unspoken words I wish I had spoken and a lot of unfulfilled promises I intended to keep but didn’t.

I can never go back and tell these people what they meant to me. I can never see their faces and hear their funny stories and hear tales of a legacy of faith that’s been passed down. I can never ask those questions that I thought I would have time to get around to.

But grace means that I still have a chance to set that right. I can say those words to the people who are still in my life. I can make good on promises I made to family and friends in honor and memory of those whom I’ve lost and miss still.

Don’t presume that you’ll have tomorrow to say your “I love you”s. Don’t think that anybody whom you love is guaranteed a tomorrow. Whatever you need to say or do, today is the day.

I’ve said before that when you take things and people for granted, what you’re granted gets taken. And I’ve asked the question before: “If God only let you keep what you thanked Him for and were grateful for verbally, what would you have left? Who would you have left?”

There’s an insidious kind of casualness to relationships these days. Maybe it’s because of people having 5,000 friends on facebook. Maybe it’s because no one thinks they’re really and truly mortal. But once someone is gone from your life, you can never rewind the tape. You can never skip back to the last scene. You can only live with those unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

I know this is not one of my usual frivolous and witty posts. But sitting in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church with tears rolling down my face, I was reminded that sometimes I need a wake-up call. I need to be reminded that life is precious and people are more precious. Right now, have one purring cat in my lap that I must attend to, so I bid you all adieu and a good night.

He giveth more grace (featuring a surprise guest blogger!)

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Ok, not really. It’s still me, but I am including a bit of poetry (not mine) in this blog, because it so profoundly affected me when I heard it tonight at Kairos Roots. Here it is. May it affect you like it did me and make you more thankful and grateful to our great God! Here is her story and then her poem will follow (I copied and pasted her story. Shh! Don’t tell anyone!)

“Annie Flint was born in the Johnston home where she lost her mother, then shortly after lost her father too and was raised by the Flint family. After she graduated from college, she contracted arthritis in one of its most crippling forms and lay in bed for not one or two years, but for decades of her life. And if that wasn’t bad enough she lost control of her internal organs and to her utter embarrassment had to live on diapers for many years of her life. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough she began to become blind and cancer began to take its toll…according to one eyewitness, who wrote a book(called Making of the Beautiful), the last time he saw her, she had seven pillows cushioning her body from keeping the sores from inflicting indescribable agony.

In the midst of all that, she wrote this beautiful poem:

‘He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!'”

Annie Johnson Flint