Redefining multi-task. Taking care not to move too much and wake the beast who can’t help he is on enough steroids for a large horse. While pasting a smile on my face and maybe letting Michael win Uno. Maybe there are exceptions.
At the local pizza shop for the umpteenth time. Chemo cravings. There’s no fighting them. There’s only succumbing entirely or no peace for anyone. You try frozen pizza to be frugal and all. It’s doesn’t taste the same. Nothing tastes the same. This changes without warning. One week there are meatballs every day, the next they are disgusting.
Justin joins his class for “100 day Olympics.” How clever. We rejoice. He laughs and has fun and all is normal again. For a few hours.
Lunch box love notes to Nicky and Michael. Don’t underestimate the power of encouragement stuck to a sandwich even if you’re told how utterly embarrassing you are. It matters. When your little brother has cancer, it matters more. He’s already the baby for crying out loud.
There were dinner discussions involving less screen time and more picking dirty socks from the floor. Because that gets out of hand when Justin is sick or mom is sick or Justin and mom are both sick.
And always, always there are Psalms.
But God will never forget the needy;
the hope of the afflicted will never perish. Psalm 9:18
Reminders gently cutting across soul spans and outliving the farthest star. Grace be with you, my friends.