Grace Under Pressure

"They couldn't do the surgery," my friend J told me this afternoon. The pancreatic cancer had spread further than they thought and so J, whose husband passed away from the same cancer one year ago today, was told that surgery was not an option for her sister.

J's sister L is quite a bit older than she and I are. I believe the difference is something like 16 or 18 years. L and her husband D have been close to my heart since shortly after we moved here to Indian Land. L had breast cancer some years ago and was going through the same fatigue symptoms from her medication that I was going through at the beginning of my menopause journey. Often she and I would look at each other in church and just sigh, knowing that we each understood how the other felt and both too tired to really talk about it. Hubby D has been my de facto big brother, in almost every sense of the word. I know he would turn himself inside-out to protect me and he also likes to patronize me in the same way a real big brother can. He's always as quick with a hug and backrub as he is to tease me about my wine drinking.

We don't know what is in store for L. Ever the optimist, I'm told she is still positive tonight from her hospital bed. It's too soon for her to go, I'm thinkin', and I'm concerned for J, who has lost so much.

And yet, as J told me this news today, we hugged, she told me she loved me, and she asked me how I was. This is a very special family. A very grace-filled family.