This video is very dear to my heart. It’s true. You never truly know what you have until it’s gone. Zach’s story is so inspirational. He was such an uplifting spirit in life, and his outlook on life prevails even in death.
I remember the day we were told the doctor’s were done. They couldn’t do anything, anymore. They had done all they could. That the cancer had spread. Of course it had spread. It was crawling inside every vein of her body. Every blood cell was caked in cancer. And now…it had traveled to her brain. And she was dying. And it was real. And it was happening. And there was nothing I could do about it.
I panicked. I was brought to my knees immediately as if an earthquake shook me to the ground. I rocked back and forth shaking my head begging for some other kind of truth. Some other kind of reality. But no. God had an entirely different plan for my mother. And it didn’t include adding anymore time to her life.
I was angry. I was furious. I kept making deals with God. I begged him. I prayed for more time. I cried out loud and silently told him I hated him everyday. My heart was black. What I wanted and what was actually happening were two completely differently things. I spent every second with her. Every minute was spent thinking about life without her.
Well, Zach’s story got me thinking. It reminded me that her last days weren’t spent in sorrow. It was spent in fits of laughter and joy. It was surrounded by people saying goodbye. Saying how much they were going to miss her. How much she lived life. And how much she meant to everyone that ever crossed paths with her. It was spent singing, and snuggling, and eating Dairy Queen ice cream cake, and wearing pajamas for days. It was filled with foot rubs and frequent blankets of snow that cooled the atmosphere around me when my face was red from crying so hard into my pillow. It was quiet moments long enough to take a deep breath and soak in all the beautiful things in life, instead of focusing on the darkness that was soon to come. It was being able to see her wings instead of her casket.
Anyway, I thought I’d share this miraculous story. It didn’t end the way his family would have preferred, but it taught them about acceptance. And I know a little something about that, too.
Thanks for hearing me out.