Not long ago I was asked about my prognosis. I told that person that God has told me I have to keep doing exactly what I'm doing by living my best life because I don't have much time left. I have heard whispers that I have 5 - 7 years to live. Those whispers come to me in my quiet moments. One night I was woken up from a dead sleep and heard, "You are doing it right, don't ever stop because we haven't got much time."

The person I was talking to was shocked and thinking that I don't believe in miracles or complete healing. I said I believe strongly in both of those things; I have just never heard those whispers from God in my case. Never in my entire life have I ever seen myself living to an old age. I believe in miracles...I gave birth to one and enjoy watching him grow everyday towards the man we were told he would never be.

I want to make it clear that I'm not giving up, I will not stop treatment or stop fighting. Exactly the opposite. I will fight just as hard to make the most of every day I have. I will focus on being well physically and mentally so that I can enjoy each moment I share with my kids. I will continue to put priority on making memories and leading them closer and closer to God with each step we take.

This 5 - 7 year prognosis is not based on anything medical. It is only based on what I have heard when deep in prayer and meditation with God. Medically I have a 57% chance of being alive in 10 years. I have a 10% chance of being alive in 20 years. Even with those numbers...it's really not that long. Twenty years ago I had a baby girl in my arms. This year she handed me a grandchild...those years have flown by.

I have always said I'm not scared of death. That has not changed. My biggest fear has always been leaving my kids; knowing they would be so devastated by loss. I never want them to be angry at God or lose their faith.

My job is to make sure my kids are just as excited about heaven as I am. Will we miss some milestones here on earth? Probably. Will that matter in the long run when we have eternity to spend being healthy and happy and together? I doubt it.

For those around us, this really changes nothing. It only strengthens us to continue to do God's work and to love each other fully and completely.

Last year there was a terminal cancer patient who talked about feeling like a little girl at a party and her Father was coming to take her home. She knew going home was awesome, she just wasn't read to leave. For me, I said we were at the rink and my Dad was there to get me. He promised Dairy Queen...but I didn't want to leave; my kids are on the ice and I didn't want to go.

For me I think I am much more lucky...my kids are older than hers. Will they still be upset when I'm gone, sure they will. Can I prepare them without scaring them? That's my job and I'm going to need your help.

When our friend Gretchen died last April, we were in Bemidji when I got the call. We had just been to see the oncologist. Kevin knew before I hung up the phone...we were walking through JC Penny's...I hung up, he looked at me with HUGE tears filling his eyes and said, "We sure got lucky having her for 26 more years than we should have." He promptly sat down on a display and bawled his eyes out. "I already miss her Mom, but I bet she's having a blast now that she can breath so good. I bet she will just sing all the time because she can breathe better" ....aaahhhh my momma heart was so filled by this little man's wisdom.

That night our church held a prayer meeting for people to come and talk and pray and grieve. Here I was, bald, sick and facing my own mortality in a room full of people who all loved the woman so much. Later a good friend said, the hardest part was seeing me so broken up because the next time they might have to do this might be for me...yes, that thought had crossed my mind. As I cried, Carson cuddled on my knee, Kevin stood at my side and wrapped his arm around me. "We were so lucky to know her Mom." Yes, we were.

August 2014, just two months before I was diagnosed, my grandfather passed away. I was a mess during the funeral and Carson was on my lap (he likes it there) wiping my tears and trying to console me. He leaned over and whispered (as quietly as a 6 year old whispers) and says, "I knew we shouldn't have come here. She's so friggen sad and I can't even stop it." Kevin told him it was ok, I'd be fine...as he looked up at me with his questioning glance and I winked and nodded.

That same questioning glance I would see months later while the youngest was panicked during one of my more severe nose bleeds and the oldest was trying to give him comfort, "She's ok Buddy..." as he looked at me and I gave him a bloody thumbs up and a smile. "Yep, she's fine Buddy, it's just the chemo, we are almost done."

I picture my funeral to be much the same...my baby boy will be sitting on my baby girl's lap (even though by then he will likely be bigger than her) and my middle child will be comforting them both. LOL "How lucky are we that she was our mom..."

Just before Christmas the little one started asking questions about death and Heaven...maybe he heard the same things I did. When we talked about seeing all the people who died before us he asked about our babies (the four babies I've miscarried) and I told him that yep, I'd see them too. "Luuucky" I'm not sure who was lucky, the babies or me...I just agreed.

I am the luckiest mom ever. I have these amazing kiddos here on earth who keep me humble (and insane). When I enter eternity I have four more waiting to get their chance!

It has been heavy on my heart to take the boys to the ocean. I don't know why; a beach vacation has never been at the top of my to-do list. For now, we are saving all of our spare change for a vacation.

We just enjoyed a two week retreat in Canada; a break to refresh and begin to heal emotionally. This was a need. To watch my kids be the kids they deserve to be without a care in the world. Well, the only care my youngest had was that there was enough paper/cardboard in the recycling each day to make a fire and my oldest boy was concerned about what time swimming started.
 
In two weeks my boys will head to Camp Kesem for a week. It's a wonderful opportunity for them to be with other kids in similar situations. All the children in this camp have or have had a parent with cancer.

Published by Debbie W