Michael

Oh, my heart is heavy tonight.  This is a picture of Michael.  He is the 6 year old son of my best friend from college - Claudia.  Michael has a neuroblastoma cancer.  It is a horrible disease, with brutal treatments and appalingly low success rates.  Claudia and I have been best friends for over 20 years - the kind of friend you meet in your dorm the first semester of freshman year; who sits next to you in Spanish class so you can split the homework assignments (lo siento sinceramente Senor Rodriguez), who you stay up entirely too late with and then drag each other out the door to class.  We have remained dear friends even though we haven't lived in the same state for almost all of the past two decades.  We have seen each other through schooling, international studies, career paths, family issues, you name it.  We have been with each other through the frogs before finally, thankfully, mercifully finding our princes, she tying the train up on my wedding gown with purple curling ribbon during our reception, and I cutting her veil during her wedding reception after it was, ahem, singed by fire.  Our friendship has deepened as we became mothers (her to 4 and me to 3)  - supporting each other through those crazy sleep deprived days and nights as we learned (and continue to learn!) how to do the most challenging and best job yet - a lifetime of preparation leading to this role.  We have laughed and cried thousands of times over the years. 

So when she called me on Christmas Eve nearly two years ago at 2 in the morning from the hospital with the news that the doctors has found a mass in Michael's abdomen, we cried.  And we prayed.  It has been a non-stop gruelling ride for this sweet family since that night, and they are in a particularly painful part of the journey at the moment.  It is gut wrenching.  I feel a physical ache in my heart for my friend.  I just want to be with them.  I am so thankful for our many, many chats where we can talk about it all, cry, and dare, I say it laugh.  She sent me this picture last fall of Michael curled up in the baby quilt I made his older sister - this is the first quilt I ever made!  I embroidered the words FAITH, HOPE and LOVE on the front.   I could never have known all those years ago as I was figuring out how to make a quilt that it would one day provide warmth and comfort in an unimagiable situation.  It is a small thing to be able to offer, such a little, tiny drop of comfort in an ocean of need/pain, but it is a piece of our shared history that I hope brings a reminder to my dear friends that they are loved. 

I don't know what the days ahead hold, but I do know we will go through them together as always - likely with lots of talking, crying, laughing and praying.  It's what we do.