My Mom Has Breast Cancer

She just found out today, but I've known since Saturday's 5k.

As I stood among the survivors, the left behind, the supporters, and the women in the midst of the battle for their lives, I knew that my mother would soon join their ranks, and my sisters and I would be celebrating and encouraging our mom during the battle ahead. Surrounded by people affected by this disease, I was struck by this calm understanding that the results of my mother's biopsy would reveal that she, in fact, has breast cancer.

I signed on to run in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in honor of a woman that lost the battle last year. She was such a light and a wonderful example of God's peace and love, and man, did she spread hope like wild fire! After more than a month of training for the race, I learned that my mother would be having a biopsy on a lump found in her breast. That was a little over a week ago. At the time, I just thought it to be an odd coincidence. Will I ever stop believing in such silly notions? God's movement is never a mere coincidence.

After her biopsy, she phoned to fill me in on when to expect results and nonchalantly mentioned that the doctor removed more than originally planned. She told me that she had prayed the night before and had a peace wash over her, and that she knew everything would be fine. Actually, she said she didn't think it was cancer. It's funny how God's peace feels so wonderful that we translate it into automatic good news. I received it as being peace beyond understanding, which God often grants during trials such as these, but decided not to say that aloud. My mom, being new to practicing her faith, probably wouldn't understand. I know that God's meaning gets lost in translation so very often, in fact, the same had been true for Ansley at the start of her battle. She knew that God planned to heal her, but she thought that meant on this earth. She's healed now, for sure, but not in the way she imagined.

After the race, I didn't think of the biopsy again. I feel awful that I let such a huge trial in my mother's life go on without giving it a second thought, but having a sick toddler sort of makes the world stop. I knew that today was her follow up appointment, but it had slipped my mind in a feverish haze. Taking care of a sick toddler always leads to a sick mommy. All of my thoughts about the cancer came flooding back when she called today. Hearing no strain in her voice was a huge relief to me at first, but as she told me more and more of her meeting with her doctor, the calm became unsettling. My mom was protecting me, and that's something she has never really done until now. Why is it that we get all we ever needed from our loved ones at the most mixed up and emotional times? I feel guilty for not being able to enjoy the moment, and guilty for wanting to, at the same time.

We talked for a little while, and I'm sure that I said the absolute wrong thing on more than one occasion, but what do you say in times like these? I encouraged prayer and let her know that she was in mine. I offered to help in any way, as if anything other than God's grace is of any help to her right now. Then I asked about my sisters. There are four of us in all, scattered here and there. My youngest sister still practically lives at home, so she was told first. As with her entire life, she made it all about her, and her pain, and her fears. Then mom called me. My older sisters must know by now, but we haven't yet spoken. I need my oldest sister, and dearest friend, so badly right now. So, that's the next step for me, aside from more, and more, and more prayer. I'm banding with my sisters as we begin this journey, and our mom begins the battle for her life.