Accepting the Unacceptable

How does one finally give in to a plan that is so far from the one you have been hoping and praying for?  At what point do you realize that the end is near and the battle is over?  I think that Tami and I both started preparing for the undesired outcome of cancer, when she was first diagnosed in February of 2009.  I liked her phrase, “cautiously optimistic”.  She used it quite frequently.  Now, you can always prepare for the worst, but hope for the best, and that is exactly what she/we did.  There was not a day that went by where HOPE wasn’t before us.  Watching Tami wrestle with the possibility of dying sooner than she had anticipated, was humbling to say the least.  There was not a day that went by where she was not reading scripture or journaling or writing letters to her kids or making a list of who gets what.  If my memory serves me correctly, she started doing these things at least 6 months before she passed away.  She wanted to make sure her kids had in writing how much they meant to her, and how each had blessed her life in different ways.  She wanted them to hear her say she loved them no matter what choices they made in life.  She wanted them to hear her say that their God, her God, will never leave them or forsake them.  She wanted them to have these words on paper so they would always have it to go back to.  I believe Tami started preparing before the rest of us. 

Living with her on a daily basis, I was able to see the progression of disease.  There were days I would come home and all seemed well.  She was up and around and eating and overall in good spirits.  Then there were days where she couldn’t get out of bed, had no energy, slept a lot and didn’t eat.  Towards the end, within the last two weeks, I grew more and more concerned as she was not eating enough.  She was not getting enough nutrition or protein to keep her body functioning.  We all knew the liver was compromised and it would only be a matter of time.  I remember her asking me one day, within the last two weeks, why she was so tired and weak.  And I in turn asked if she knew what was happening.  She knew that her body was shutting down on her.  She knew that her fight was coming to an end.  She knew that the day was coming where she would leave her beaten, battered, diseased body. 

As each day passed, it became more real to me that time was short.  I too needed to accept that my best friend was dying, and would be gone soon, and that God’s plan was not mine.  I chose to savor, take advantage of, create any kind of moment that time allowed us to have.  There was nothing left unsaid.  There were no regrets.  We both knew exactly what 12 years of friendship brought to the other.  We both knew that the memories made will be forever engraved on our hearts.  We both knew that we would see each other again.  But, how does one truly accept these things as truth and not just remind yourself that these are good things to remember?  You have to let go.  You have to trust that God’s plan is bigger than your.  You have to understand that only God knows when to end suffering.  You have to believe that the almighty God who created the universe and you, knows the number of hairs on our head, and the number of days we will breathe.