Why Me?

May 21, 2004


Dear Lord:

I write to you today with questions. Why have you forsaken my family?

On Thanksgiving day 2003, news was delivered that my sister Laura had a metastatic brain lesion that needed immediate surgery. My family ate in silence and prayed to you for her safety. She recovered from the invasive operation with the knowledge that not all of the mass could be removed. Laura had the prognosis of one year to live with continued radiation therapy.

While we wept, each of us reminded the other that Laura had survived the breast cancer that had ravaged her ten years prior. She had more determination to live. Colors were more vibrant. Sounds more sweet. Laura found her smile again and went on to nurture her four children and raise them through their adolescence after the breast cancer. She thought she had won.

Christmas was bittersweet this year. For the first time in many years, five separate families celebrated as one in the home of my elderly mother. We shared old pictures, laughs, and hugs. Laura was beautiful wearing a Christmas scarf covering her bald scalp as she led us in song.

None of us asked the question on all of our lips…would this be Laura’s last Christmas?

Three weeks ago, I rushed to the bedside of my mother at the hospital. She had fallen and could not get up. An ambulance had been summoned, and she was admitted to the hospital. Her very slow heartbeat, monitor leads all over her body, and eyes so dull greeted me as I held her hand and listened to the physician in the intensive care room. My mother had suffered a stroke, but the most immediate danger was her low heartbeat. I stroked her precious left hand which no longer had sensation and whispered in her ear I loved her before the nurses whisked me out of the room. Visitation was limited in ICU I was told. I stared into the glass room my mother was laying in and prayed to you. “Please give my mother strength to live.”

The night was so long. I slept in the ICU waiting room. Every time the doors opened I expected someone to come out and deliver horrible news. None came that night. I prayed thanks to you while I waited to visit my mother.

Five days later, I brought my mother home. The residual numbness she had in her left side may be permanent she was warned, but she would become accustomed to it. She would need to be careful around heat as she could no longer tell the difference in temperature. Luckily, she was still able to move her left side, just the feeling was not the same.

I asked you the night after my mother returned home, “why have you given me so much stress?” I was now caring for my 12-year-old daughter and my mother. She needed help getting dressed and caring for herself. Not much help, but some was necessary, and this fell on my shoulders.

You answered me with more news. My brother Edward was gravely ill. After Christmas he had lost all his appetite. After repeated tests, it was determined that he had cholelithiasis and possibly cholecystitis and his gallbladder needed to be removed. He went through the operation a week before my mother’s stroke. However, he was not recovering. He had lost much weight as he was unable to eat. He missed his son’s college graduation where he graduated with honors as Ed could not leave the bed.

That weekend, Ed was rushed to the hospital where it was found that he had lost 40 pounds since his surgery. The doctors ran more tests on him and were baffled by his dramatic decrease in health.

My brother is one of the most important people in the world to me. My father had died when I was a mere ten months old and my brother, 19 years old at the time, helped my mother raise Valerie and myself. He worked hard during the week out of state and would rush home every weekend to help care for us. Edward brought discipline to the house with his stern looks, but he also brought love and compassion and showed me the value of family. Every Christmas, he played Santa and bought Valerie and I Christmas presents that my mother was unable to afford. When my childhood neared an end, my brother took a wife and created his own family. However, he always was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on or if I needed help with anything. He is more than a brother, he is my hero.

I was in shock, what more could befall me?

You answered me through the physicians when they announced Edward’s diagnosis: pancreatic cancer with perhaps metastases to his lymph nodes. A surgeon felt it was operable and also recommended to the family to get a second opinion from specialists in Boston. Best case scenario, my brother would be cured. Worst case, he had a year to live.

As I cried myself to sleep last night, I asked you one question, “Why me?”

Why would you take from me one by one my beloved family after you had made me grow up without a father.

My memories chased me into sleep. My mother singing to me awoken me and I realized that it was in my mind. I went to my mother to help her awaken and found that she too had a night of memories. We laughed as we remembered Edward and my sister Valerie running a race down the driveway and my brother losing because his sweatpants had fallen to his feet. We recalled the New Year’s Eves that we had spent as a family performing skits in front of each other. I saw my mother’s smile and remembered the many times she wore that when she smiled encouragingly from the audience as I graduated from high school, sang in chorus, or cheered in front of a crowd. I felt the security that I always felt when I was with one of my older siblings.

I realized that you already have given me the best gift of all, a family of love and so many memories. I am ashamed of my selfishness, and I hope you will forgive me.

Today as I kissed my new great-nephew’s forehead and hugged my niece, I remembered the talk my brother gave me when Charlotte was born. He had reminded me of the day I was born. The family had waited outside the operating room not sure if I was going to be a baby or a tumor. He shared that my father had to rush out and buy a crib as they had not dared to wish I would be a healthy baby. He told me of the tears my father cried the first time he held me.

As the infant Hunter was placed in my arms, I hugged him tight and welcomed him to the family.

Love,
Enchantress~