This Strange Thing Called "Hope"

The nature of hope has me wondering about many, many things. My sister's prognosis is not good right now. In fact, it is very bleak unless a lot of "ifs" happen in a certain order and very quickly. Between the chemo and radiation, Patty's heart and lungs have been damaged. The transplant will not take place unless there are less than twenty percent "blasts" in her bone marrow and she is able to physically withstand the treatments necessary in order to give the transplant the best possible chance to succeed. Trying to treat anything before the leukemia, i.e. her heart or lungs, would only delay treating the leukemia, which is the most immediate threat. Do the phrases "a rock and a hard place" or "catch-22" spring up in anyone else's mind, too?

I am not sure Patty holds out much hope for herself right now and I do not feel certain I know how to encourage her with any real hope, without spawning false hope, in either or both of us. My mind and heart feel dried out, arid, and it is difficult for me to think very clearly. It is as if all of my hopes and prayers have gone, yet again, either unanswered or answered in the cruelest and bitterest fashion possible. The thing I have feared the most, and it has contended with many, many fears brought out by this entire situation, now seems to be at the doorstep and determined to enter a place it will never be welcomed or wanted. I feel I am being forced into the transition from hoping for Patty's recovery to trying to make her last days, weeks, and months as positive and loving, comfortable and peaceful, as possible.

I really wish I could, somehow, make everything all right again; that I could say a prayer or touch her, knowing she will be healed, increasing the time she has left here on earth. I wish I could guarantee my nephew and niece that they will be able to have their mother with them for all of their future triumphs and tragedies; to share all of their joys, sorrows, and secrets. For myself I wish I could go on in life knowing my family is safe and whole although with each loss, experienced or impending, we seem smaller and weaker; held together less by strength than by a weakening glue that is degrading slowly and threatening everything we have held dear our entire lifetimes. It is not just my sister's heart that has been damaged by all of this, but the heart of our family. Is there anything that can heal that?

John Lennon's words, that "life is what happens as we make other plans," have haunted me for years. They are more true than he may have realized at the time he put pen to paper, writing a song of father and son, family and love, wisdom and humor. Did they merely sound "right" to him, or did he truly understand the depth and breadth of what he was communicating? It is the most difficult part of life to even begin understanding that death is a very real part of that particular equation, too. Was that on his heart and mind the day he first sang those words; first spoke them outloud? With those few simple words was he trying to express humanity's mortality, or just offering a brief phrase to encourage his young son in his pursuits in life? Did he also include, as an after thought, that questions were a large part of the foundation we build with each breath we take; steal? Does, in fact, death rule our lives or is there truly hope outside of our existence, outside our realm of influence? It seems to be what almost every religion offers and is based upon. I wonder what God truly thinks of all of this, what he feels, if anything, about our pain and limitations, but also about our beauties and strengths.

I hope the weather is mostly lovely, that my nephew and niece choose to behave and help make their mother's remaining time, be it long or far too short, happy and loving, that our father and step-mother find the strength to persevere in patience and love, giving and caring despite the considerable obstacles placed before them, that Patty's and my youngest sister is able to find the inner peace she will need to get through all of this, and that I am able to do so, as well.

May peace be yours; love and laughter. May your troubles be few, your pains be minor, and your days happier than ours seem likely to be.

Izzlebug