Illness brings both sorrow and hope ~ October 26, 1995

David Heiller

Grandma and Malika at the cabin. (1990)

Cindy’s mother, Lorely, was diagnosed with cancer on Saturday, October 15. Lorely spent ten rough days in the hospital, and will spend many more days at home, recovering and taking chemotherapy.

Cindy has been gone nearly all of the time since the cancer was discovered. I’m realizing in a hurry how hard it is to be a single parent.

Lorely’s illness is making me appreciate both Lorely and Cindy more than I ever have.

Many thoughts have crossed my mind about Lorely since the illness was discovered. She has so many good qualities, like her love for her family and her generosity. She had strength enough to raise three children as a single parent without child support payments or extra finan­cial help. I have great respect for that.

People usually don’t think about qualities like this in a parent until the parent is facing illness or death, which is a little late. Sometimes too late.

But that’s not clear in Lorely’s case. The can­cer is calling all the shots. It has its own time zone, and all we can do is go kicking and scratching along with it.

Grandma warming up her
 Noah at a chilly soccer game. (1990)

And say a prayer or two. I took the kids to church on Sunday. They didn’t want to go, as usual. But I said it would be a good time to say a prayer for Grandma, and they understood.

After the offering, I leaned over to each 
of them and reminded them about the Grandma prayer. Then we sang “Beautiful Savior,” and that made me think of Lorely. Tears welled up in my eyes. One dripped on the left lens of my glasses.

I didn’t wipe the tears away. I figured no one would see them. But a boy in the pew ahead of us did, and he gave me a curious look, like he was wondering what was wrong. Maybe he’s never seen a man cry before. That’s okay He’ll have plenty of time for that.

We sang the song with the gusto reserved for all good hymns. On the third verse, the organist quit playing, and we sang in unison, just the voices. It 
sounded strong and pure. I wanted to stop and listen, but I wanted to sing even more, so I did, and the strength of those voices gave me hope.

Immediately after our wedding.

Tears crop up at all hours these days. From Cindy in the wee hours of the 
morning, her body wracked with sorrow.

From Lorely’s other daughter, Nancy, at the breakfast table when she talked about a recent trip to Wisconsin with her mother.

From Lorely as she listened to our daughter sing her a song in the hospital. It’s a time for crying. There is plenty of sorrow in this world of ours.

But there is plenty of joy as well, and there is still time for that, time to appreciate your loved ones, to not take them for granted, to accept them for what they are.