July 6
This has been an unexpectedly tough week. It started with a cancer scare of my own. I had to go back for a rescan…I’m fine…but for a few days I lived with the uncertainty of my future. My main concern, how to tell my kids if it required chemo…another concern, how to face it without Norm…but all that is moot, no big deal and no treatment needed.
Four months ago I said goodbye to Norm…it seems so much longer and yet each day I awake, having to remind myself that he is not here. The little things, the everyday remind me of what I have lost. Some days are harder than others.
I was trying to figure out why this week has been particularly tough. I think it’s that July of 2024 was the last month that Norm was somewhat his normal self. He got aggravated easier, but still had the energy to hike and take pictures and to spend time with the grands. We didn’t know anything was wrong.
We did the usual fun things for July. The fireworks with the Knoxville Symphony on the 4th, then his birthday vacation to Colorado. Always, we made plans for the future, where we would go.
We took care of Sierra and Sawyer for a week, they love their Poppop. He didn’t have as much energy as usual with them, but I didn’t think it was anything serious.
Perhaps that’s my issue…I didn’t see how seriously ill he was until it was too late. Logically I know that there was no way for me to know, but emotions aren’t logical.
Where’s the joy?
I am thankful for the good memories I have and that Norm had a really good week with Sierra and Sawyer before the illness overcame his energy.
I pray for those walking in illness and the caregivers, for strength and wisdom and times of joy in the midst of the pain.
I rejoice that God is faithful even more than we can comprehend.
Where’s the joy? It comes as I rest in the hope that God provides and turn to Him for comfort in the midst of the sorrow.
O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You understand my thought from afar.
You scrutinize my path and my lying down, And are intimately acquainted with all my ways.
Even before there is a word on my tongue, Behold, O Lord, You know it all.
You have enclosed me behind and before, And laid Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is too high, I cannot attain to it.
Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
Even there Your hand will lead me, And Your right hand will lay hold of me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, And the light around me will be night,”
Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day.
Darkness and light are alike to You.
For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them.
How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand. When I awake, I am still with You.
Psalm 139:1–18
TRICIA LATHROP 