In 2012, when my 2-year-old son was diagnosed with leukemia, all our plans for the future were put on the back burner. That baby we were trying to conceive would just have to wait. That house we wanted to build would remain a figment of our imagination.
For nine months, my son’s cancer treatment raged on. It was exhausting and terrifying. Finally the treatment slowed down, and it was time to get back to “normal” life. But I was tender, oh so very tender. The floor had dropped out of my world when my son was diagnosed, and so I walked slowly back into the “real” world, cautiously testing the ground in front of me with each tentative step.
One day, I called an old friend whom I’d lost touch with in the chaos of cancer. She invited me to her new house and gave me directions the old-fashioned way – “turn left at the gas station” – because their development was so new that GPS didn’t recognize it yet.
…You can read the rest over at one of my favorite blogs, (In)courage!