Marking the Time

Happy New Year to one and all!

I was going to write a post last night but I was too depressed to do it, and to be honest tonight is not much different. But since time rolls on I might as well roll with it and do what everyone does or at least is tempted to do at this time of year: mark the time.

A new anything always seems to bring with it two things: the remembering of what was before and the looking forward to what is/might be coming. As I look back on the second day of 2012 (wow) I can honestly say I feel like the last half of 2011 should be thrown in the toilet. And, by the looks of it, the first week at least of 2012. I was really hoping that after all the trauma of the summer, with Adam's diagnosis of Leukaemia looming large in the forefront of everyone's minds and memories, we could end the year on a high note, in relative health and a night of good music with my husband to boot. But no, Adam's admission to hospital a week ago put an end to those hopes and now I am left with facing the fact that I can't wish or work or medicate or complain this into anything other than it is, a virus that is still causing Adam lots of trouble a week on and shows no signs of abating.

We have been praying, and we are still hopeful that Adam will turn a corner soon, but we ended up ringing in the new year on the medical ward amongst several other semi-hopeful families as I had desperately hoped we wouldn't. We have had some good times in our week though, like Adam and Caleb getting to colour, watch videos, snooze and play together and Mommy and Miss Leah watching scary movies at nighttime after bathing the other two and putting them to bed. I will always remember singing Adam to sleep two nights in a row and him handing me my glasses in the morning without me asking. I will also remember watching him leaning over things struggling to breathe. I think the hardest thing about all this is that Adam is a TANK. Anyone who knows him knows he doesn't stop for anything. If he stops, if he lays down or sits still, or looks flat, it's because he's really hurting. I don't like it because it seems to lay bare that everything we count on in life is subject to fail, including Adam and his strength. I count on his strength to get through chemo and beat his cancer--I expected that if something were to happen it would be part of that whole picture, NOT some random virus that knocks him off course.

But of course that's to put our trust in people and things rather than in the Lord. Yes, I know this too. And even while I rant and rave against what the Lord has had us all endure over the last half of the year, I also know that we welcomed our little angel Agnes Sophia Rose into the world during the first half of the year. And we also received the love, help, food, comfort, company and support of SO many friends and family during the whole year. We moved into a fantastic house and Adam joined the community of a wonderful school this year. Caleb learned to put letter sounds together to make words this year. Agnes learned to walk. Mom learned to sew (again!) and Dad spent his first nights of many in the hospital with Adam. Adam too learned to "talk" more and sign more, thanks in large part to Mr Tumble. In fact, Brian called me not too long ago to say that Adam had spontaneously signed and said "Adam loves Mommy. Daddy." So good can most definitely come out of bad, and our groaning hearts can most definitely find and dwell in peace if that is what they are willing to keep hoping for.

Well, here's hoping I don't write in a week and say we're still in! I hope and pray instead that Adam can breathe easy and normally soon and that he can start his last block of chemo asap (and the delay won't have had any negative effects on his cancer levels). I also pray that I will not measure what we receive against any random ideas I might be tempted to entertain of what we "should" receive. And my one resolution this year? To remember to be grateful more than I complain.