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It's hard being so far away.

I knew that moving across the country would be difficult. I knew it would be painful to leave behind all I've ever known and loved. I knew it would slowly get better - that the pain wouldn't be as sharp...but I also knew that it would never go away.

In difficult times, the pain of absence grows all the more poignant.

I know that my mom is doing much better post surgery. She is home in her own comfortable, quiet home with my sister next door and my brother less than a mile away who have been taking amazing care of her. She has a very supportive church family who has been sending her cards and letters of encouragement. Her drainage tubes will be removed tomorrow at the hospital. Throughout it all, her attitude has been and remains amazing. I know she is doing well.

But I hate being here when she's there - when my whole family is there.

I know that my presence wouldn't make the cancer go away and it wouldn't help her heal any faster...but we are a family and families are supposed to go through difficult times TOGETHER. Just to sit with her and knit/crochet together while we chat or watch a movie would mean the world to me...and I know it would mean a lot to her, too. I hate that I am hearing the news second-hand like 'everyone else' instead of like a family member who hears it first-hand by being physically present. I want to be there.

Times like this make the painful feelings so acute. There are many days when I am able to simply enjoy my life out here in Lynden. I enjoy my job, I love our friends, I love our new apartment, I cherish the time I've had to get to know Kent's family better. Then there are other days when I physically hurt inside because I can't stand to be so far away from my family - the same days when I can't stop the tears from falling.

It's hard being so far away.

My sister explains well on her blog what is going on with our mom. So, if you haven't already, read this post to get caught up (there's also a beautiful picture of her there, too).

My mom has surgery tomorrow at 1:00pm MI time - 10:00am WA time. Here's a highlight from Sonny's blog about what to pray for:

Please pray that the surgery goes smoothly with no surprises. Pray that the Lord guides the hands of the two surgeons that will be working on my mom. Pray that they won't miss anything. Pray that the cancer is indeed contained, and that her lymph system is free and clear. Pray that she (and we) will be light and salt to those around us. Pray that God will receive all honor, glory and praise through this experience.

We covet your prayers.

About 9:00 on Thursday morning, March 26, after having a staff meeting, I saw that I had a missed call from my mom. My heart started racing. I went into the bathroom to call her back.

"They did find a little cancer in it."

My mind went blank as the tears started to come.

My mom went on to tell me more information that I can't recall right now - probably because of my state of shock at that moment. As soon as I got off the phone with her, I numbly walked into the teachers lounge, tears streaming down my face.

"What's wrong, Shelly?"

"My mom has...cancer." I lost it. There was no turning back to the floodgate that was opened at that moment.

"You have to go home. You need to be with your mom," said my principal.

By 1:00 that afternoon. I had a ticket from Seattle to GR for the next morning.

4:20am the next morning (Friday), Kent and I left our apartment for Seattle. I called my brother, Chad, around 5 to ask him if he could pick me up from the airport so I could surprise mom. "Isn't it like 5:00 there? Have you ever seen 5:00?" I laughed. He was excited to be in on the secret with me.

6:00pm, Chad picks me up from the airport with his dog, Remmi. We get to my mom's around 6:30. Chad told me that mom was expecting him because he asked if he could stop by with Remmi for some "socialization" with Shadow. She opens the door expecting to see Chad, and there I am in the garage walking towards her. She took a double take, got a look of shock on her face, walked backwards towards the kitchen counter and put her hands over her face. She had tears in her eyes, but this huge expression of shock mixed with a huge smile. "Surprise!" I said. It was a sweet moment.

Later that night, I wanted to surprise my sister, Sonny. Mom called and left a message on her machine. "Oh, nothing big, but I was just wondering if I could stop by for a little bit tonight and maybe have a glass of wine or something." (I found out later that Sonny was freaking out thinking that the whole situation was finally hitting mom and that she was going to have to be prepared to handle this situation when mom came over). After Sonny called back to invite my mom over, I got excited.

"How do you want to do this?" mom asked me as we started our walk to their yard.
"You walk in and I'll come in after you."

So mom walks in - I hear the door close behind her, so I take that as my cue. I walk through the door and Sonny gasped, "What are you doing here?! Yay!!" I got lots of big hugs that night. My nieces weren't in bed yet, so I got to see them and tuck them in. They immediately put on their scarves that I had knit them a couple months prior. It was adorable.

Any doubts that I had about whether or not I should go home - whether or not I was overreacting - totally disolved once I was there. I needed to be there. It was so good to be there.

Thank you, God, for your mercy in allowing me to go home and see my family!

Sonny and I finally had some really good one-on-one time. Mom and I had lots of good chats. I had some good bonding time with my nieces and nephews. I recieved lots of good hugs from my loved ones.

It was good. I love surprises. :)

Biopsy. No...not my mom...

Yes...biopsy on Tuesday. Silence. Shock.

I don't know what to say. There are no words. The one thing that keeps playing through my head are these lyrics:
"You are God alone. From before time began, you were on your throne. You are God alone.
And right now, in the good times and bad, you are on your throne. You are God alone."
("You Are God Alone" by Phillips, Craig & Dean)


I cling to these words.

Biopsies scare me. Biopsies mean the C word...and I've known way too many people who have battled that disease: My grandma. My other grandma. My aunt. My brother-in-law. My friend. A 5-year-old boy from my church. A baby less than a year old. The list continues. There have been some amazing outcomes. There have been some heart-wrenching outcomes.

I sit and I wait. I can't do anything right now because I don't know any more information than the above. So I wait. I pray. I hope. I do my best to not let my mind wander from point A to point Z. It's difficult.

So I sit and I pray. And I let these words play over and over again in my mind:
"You are God alone. From before time began, you were on your throne. You are God alone.
And right now, in the good times and bad, you are on your throne. You are God alone."

What's been going up with me in the past couple of weeks:
- found out my mom has breast cancer
- flew home to surprise mom and the fam
- hung out in MI for about 5 days
- flew back to WA for a day. Taught my classes.
- left the next morning at 2am for Mexico with the other Spanish teacher and 14 students
- spent 10 days in Mexico: Punta Sam (Cancun), Bécal, Mérida
- returned home this past Tuesday at 2:00/2:30am. Slept for 4-5 hours. Taught the next day.
- been trying to get caught up ever since.

My next few posts will be catching up on the above - my thought processes and some pictures.