Saying ‘Happy Father’s Day’ Doesn’t Do Him Justice

In the summer after 8^th grade, he briefly let go of my hand and smiled awkwardly as he wiped off his sweaty palm, then nervously grabbed my hand again and squeezed. With butterflies in my stomach, I thought it might be love.   

When he was sixteen, we rode up a chairlift on a cold winter day and I rubbed my hands together for warmth. He calmly took each of my gloves and blew into them with his warm breath, then placed the warmed gloves back on my frozen fingers. I looked into his kind eyes and knew it was a love too real for teenagers.

A year later, he had just been baptized and the Holy Spirit filled his heart, he hugged me tight in a crowded church lobby as tears streamed down his face. I thought how much God loved him and I knew he had a plan for us… either together or apart… I knew he would always be my first love.

He was a few months shy of nineteen, sitting on a picnic table in Mueller Park Canyon as I sobbed out the words, “I’m pregnant,” but this is when his eyes lit up and he enthusiastically exclaimed, “Now we can get married!” He held me tight and I thought I would never love him more than at that moment.

Six months later in a hospital room, a squirmy newborn flailed and screamed at the top of his lungs as we attempted to change our first diaper and realized we didn’t know what to do. I panicked and pushed the emergency nurse button. After the annoyed nurse rolled her eyes and reviewed the diapering  procedure once more, he looked at me with confidence and said, “It’s gonna be okay; we can do this.” I was skeptical, but I knew I couldn’t love him more.

Later that year, we each held one of our son’s tiny hands as he laid on a beautiful alter adorn in lace. Our sweet baby smiled at us as Tim looked me in the eyes and promised me forever.  We felt God’s love bless our little family and I thought I couldn’t love him more.

At twenty-three, he convinced me to move to Idaho where we didn’t know a single soul. I complained one night about missing my friends and he said he would be my best friend. The move turned out to be the best thing for our marriage and family; he’s been my best friend ever since and I thought I couldn’t love him more.

When he was twenty-seven years old, he took it upon himself to cook Sunday dinners. Everyone knows he’s a much better cook than I, but having this reprieve was priceless and became a tradition the kids looked forward to ever since. Each Sunday as we sit down for dinner together as a family, I swear I couldn’t love him more.  

At thirty, while stumbling over Legos, army men, and toddler toys, I was holding a baby on my hip and in denial that I could possibly be pregnant again, I watched him as he stood among a pile of laundry and methodically folded the clean clothes. I realized there is nothing more enduring than a man willingly folding laundry. I knew I couldn’t love him more.

At thirty-three, he fished, golfed, coached our kids’ sports teams, and took time off work to go to scout camp. He called home in tears one night as the realization sunk in that our oldest would never be like the other boys. He didn’t express self-pity or disappointment; it was an overwhelming compassion and love for our son as he wept, “I never fully understood.” Regardless of what the future held, I knew we were together in raising him the best we could and I had never loved him more than at that moment.

He was thirty-eight when a rebellious child declared his independent rage and frustration with a mother who was holding on too tight. He looked up to the growing child with a firm tone and warned him to never speak to his mother that way again. We slowly learned to let go, but our love for each other and united front has been a constant. I knew I couldn’t love him more.

At forty-two, he wiped away my tears while calmly explaining college algebra at 1am in the morning. He encouraged me and told me I could do it, that I was smarter than I realized. So whatever degree I would eventually earn, it belongs to him as well. I loved his logic and unwavering support, because college would simply not have been possible without him. I thought I couldn’t love him more... but I was wrong.

At forty-five he holds me tight through the pain and fear of breast cancer. He’s been there throughout the endless appointments, medications and sickness, caressing my patchy bald head and bloated face while insisting I will always be beautiful to him. His positive reassurance is what calms me the most, and his resolve that “We will do whatever it takes to be together another forty years.” There’s no way I could ever love him more. 

The love of my life has continued to amaze me, this incredibly steady and strong husband of mine. He has shown our children what true love is all about and what it means to be a good father… a good man. Whatever challenges, trials, or adventures life has brought throughout the years, I thought I couldn’t love him more – but he continues to prove me wrong each day as our love evolves and grows.      

Four weeks of chemo remaining...

Four weeks of chemo remaining...

Distractions are wonderful: June has brought much needed relief; summer has arrived, Jake has moved back home after graduating from ISU, Mason is preparing for a National IT Skills Competition in Kentucky, my sister Jill came from Austin, TX to visit and help us, the girls are both playing summer basketball for the high school throughout June and we love watching their games! Cheering them on and berating poor referee calls has been a great distraction. Having only four weekly chemo treatments remaining has given us something to look forward to as well. It seems we are over the worst of it, or my body has finally adjusted to the newer chemo treatments, or I am holding down more food, so I have more physical strength. Whatever it is, I feel renewed and can see light at the end of the tunnel even as I lose my eyelashes and eyebrows. The past three months were a real test, and I feel like I have crawled back from the abyss of darkness. It is interesting; my body is weaker than it’s ever been in my life, but I feel an unexplained spiritual strength. Is this the refiner’s fire? We still have a long way to go this year, but making it through these months of chemo and the subsequent physical (and emotional) changes has forever changed my perspective and spiritual outlook.

Thank you to our loved ones: Words cannot explain how much we have appreciated the caring thoughts, sweet cards and care packages from friends and family from around the country. Support from loved ones has carried us through a very dark time of medical upheaval and financial stress. Although we are still living in a limbo of unanswered questions and uncertainty, we know God is looking out for us. We know we can make it through whatever comes, and it is mainly because of our incredible support system. Thank you.

The scoop: As previously mentioned, we have four weekly chemo treatments remaining, with the final treatment around July 7^th. So, what’s next? We’ll have an MRI and other tests to see how much the chemo has reduced the size of the tumor. I can feel that it is smaller and it seems to have released the pectoral muscle, because the pain in this area has subsided. We will meet with our surgeon again to work out our game plan and discuss the surgical options. It seems we’ll have surgery around the first week of August, take four to six weeks to heal and then follow it up with radiation treatments. The oncologist says the radiation treatments will probably last six weeks, with treatments everyday Monday through Friday; roughly 30 radiation treatments in all. This seems like a lot, but we are prepared to do whatever it takes to rid my body of this cancer. 

In other news: God continues to answer prayers when we least expect it. I had applied for the BSU Communication Graduate Program before I was diagnosed and this spring we found out I was selected to receive one of three Graduate Teaching Assistantships. This is a substantial award, which waives the tuition costs of graduate school and includes a small stipend. I will have a small office on campus, be considered part of the Communication Department staff, take classes and train to receive my college teaching certificate. The department heads have been very supportive regarding my medical situation and we are sure this will open doors for our family in the future. Although we aren’t exactly sure how everything will play out with my surgery and radiation, we know where there is a will, there is a way! This opportunity is a blessing for our family; we are confident and have faith that God has blessed us with this opportunity for a reason. Part of the assistantship includes training and teaching Communication 101 classes, which were originally supposed to start the week of August 22^nd, but due to my medical issues, they have agreed to let me receive the training throughout the fall and start teaching next semester (in January). I love to teach and knowing the BSU Comm Department sees my potential has been a real confidence booster; exactly what we needed to make it through this trial. We just have to get through the next few months of surgery and radiation, but knowing some of what our future holds helps me personally feel empowered, which was exactly what I needed after losing my prior job in the middle of my chemo treatments. Isn’t it amazing how blessings arrive when we are at our lowest, when we least expect them? Isn’t it amazing to sit back and let God steer our lives? We just have to trust that he knows where He is taking us. He knows us better than we know ourselves; he knows what we are capable of achieving. He knows each of us and wants the best for us, we just need to trust in Him and let Him steer. Being the ultimate backseat driver (just ask Tim & the kids), it is never easy to relinquish control and let others steer, but if we have learned anything recently, it is that we must learn to let go and trust in Him. There have been days and weeks over the past few months when I was not sure I was going to survive and still often feel I am just hanging on by my feeble fingernails throughout this journey. Although we are far from finished, we know the trick is to hang on to what matters and to let go of everything else, to have faith and to trust in God. He loves us and knows what we stand in need of; He will see us through.