(Previously posted in blog pseudomyxomacancer.blogspot.com in September 2014)
I told his dad, “You cannot have him yet. You were only here for the first 20 or so years of his life. And in those twenty years you were really not much of a dad. The majority of his memories of you are not very good ones. When he was a baby and a young boy you did not have much use for him. Maybe you suffered from PTSD having been involved in the Marines and stationed in some not very good locations. Even so, he always tried to make you proud of him. To this day some of the drive he has is due to you – he is always trying to prove he has made something of his life despite whatever it was you thought of him. He loved you and I am sure you loved him, but you cannot have him yet.”
I told Mike, “You cannot have him yet. In life I think you both might have gotten along but that doesn’t mean you can bring him to your playground. Like you he is creative, he loves solving problems. He loves doing for others in the most unexpected way. Like you he has made an impression on those at church, he has made some very special altar items for the church. Like you he is driven to succeed, to prove to his family that he is a survivor in spite of being poor when he was growing up. Unlike you, he knows how to manage finances and has helped himself and several others to do the same (even me, who now has a pretty good bank account). See, you cannot have him yet.”
I told my parents, “You cannot have him yet. I know you are ‘up there’ dancing with the other angels. I bet they have a spectacular square dance going on and you are loving every minute of it. George doesn’t dance much – so he won’t join in your fun. Dad, while you only knew him for a little while, he promised you he would take care of me, and he is doing that. Mom, you knew him awhile longer, you enjoyed his company. But your little girl still needs him, so you cannot have him just yet.”
I told his brother, “You cannot have him yet. I know you looked up to him as your big brother and perhaps felt you never measured up to him. He and your mom both tell me you were a special little boy who had your own unique set of problems from the time you were little. He tells me that your dad always gave you more than him, that your dad favored you over him. He could see that your dad loved you. You made some of the same mistakes that your dad made by not keeping your diabetes well under control. You had spending problems like your dad. He has learned by watching and he has now learned that he can control his diet if he has to and he definitely is a saver. He rescued your family when they needed it. I know you love your big brother, but you cannot him yet, either.”
God told him, “I do not want you yet, my Son. That is why I created a kidney stone so you would know there was something wrong with you. I have given you the chance to continue life on earth. While I know there will be some suffering along the way, know that I will hold you in the palm of my hand, breathing life into you, whispering words of faith when you are weak. All you have to do is ask and I will give to you what you need when you need it. You can come to me and talk to me whenever you would like to. I will listen. I will hear your cries when you are in pain, your tears of sorrow when you are down, your pleas for mercy when all seems wrong with the world. I will hold you. I love you, my son. But I do not want you yet.”
He made you a promise, God. He made a pledge to you once he comes through the other side of this cancer journey. I know in order for him to fulfill this promise he will be required to lean on you even more, to know that you will provide for him emotionally, financially and spiritually. He has a hard time letting go of that type of control, so be patient with him. I am not ready to let you have him yet. He is not ready to go to You yet. You do not want him, you have other plans for him. And he will deliver to You when the time comes. His angels here on earth will ensure that he does!