The pain of reading the blog from July 2014....

Today has been incredibly hard.  I am somewhat amazed at the layer and depths that grief touches your emotions.  It's almost like when you hurt, it goes so much deeper than it used to.  And then on top of grief, when something besides Amanda's death hurts you, cause I am still living in this sinful world, it is much quicker to go deep and painful like an ugly splinter that you want removed, but you don't have the necessary tools to make it even possible.  God made us very complex beings.  I love Him for that.  My empathy and compassion has deepened after experiencing a loss like the death of Amanda.  That also means I feel more and hurt more than I used to by allowing myself to be open and vulnerable.  My hope is that God will always use that attribute for His glory.

This weekend, I was looking at last summer's blog to find a picture. I was looking for our family Fourth of July photo we took in Waco with all the Watson crew. 

I found myself reading over the posts before I could stop myself.   All summer I have been doing my best to avoid last year's timeline of this summer.  Not only for the obvious reasons, but also because I knew that once I went down that road, my mind would continue to replay the events.  It was an incredibly hard, tearful and painful morning as I read through that last month. 

Then a sweet surprise on Saturday.  Someone gave me an incredibly special gift out of the blue and completely anonymous.  It blessed me more than words can say.  I like to think it was another well timed reminder that Amanda is in Heaven and she is in good hands.

I think the hardest part about the here and now is that the shock is gone and the reality is, well, all too real.  The pain is so intense that it is a true physical pain and makes me want to just pull in and try to shut out the reality, but that's not an option.  I have found myself having difficulty focusing....

July 1, 2014 we found out that the tumor had returned and were told at that time that basically we were out of effective treatment options. 

For me, that was probably the most painful day up to that point. Looking back now and knowing that we were only 5 weeks away from Amanda's death is almost unbelievable.  No one, not even the doctors and certainly not us, thought she would decline as quickly as she did.  If I am honest, even though it tears me apart and leaves me in shattered pieces, I am thankful for that.  God was so gracious to Amanda and our family during those last days.  Honestly, God was incredibly gracious for the full seventeen months as we battled cancer. 

What I didn't see coming was that walking through these days a year later would be so incredibly painful as we approach the one year anniversary.

July 1, 2014

There comes a day when the reality of the fallen world we live in smacks you right in the face.  Today's appointment was the hardest day of my life, up to this point.  Harder than when we received the original MRI results, harder than the day Amanda had brain surgery, harder than when we walked into the Cancer Center before receiving an official diagnosis, harder than the last 16 months....

As we sat in the conference room reviewing the scans with Dr. George and Dr. Harrod, they took the time to gently explain where we are at.  With care and concern they told us that the tumor has returned and at this point, as we stand at the end of the the completion of her radiation and chemotherapy treatment, we have given it our best shot at defeating her cancer.   There is no more radiation that we can do, and we gave her the strongest chemotherapy treatment possible.

And then, just like that, a little over a month later, we were saying goodbye to our sweet girl.

I don't think there is really any way to "handle" this time of grieving.  I think it is simply making it through each day, breath by breath and step by step.  And each day, I attempt to stay focused on Tom and Brandon and try to laugh and find joy with them, even while the pain is still so raw and just under the surface. There is also work to help distract me for a few short hours with an amazing group of Godly friends who are right there in the trenches with me.  And I am incredibly thankful for my family and friends who continue to come alongside to love and encourage me. 

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars, The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”
―Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

I've gone a little "canvas crazy" as Tom likest to call it.  We are redoing one of the walls in our family room with family pictures.  I found this one recently and couldn't help myself - I had to buy it.  All I had to do was put the perfect picture in it.

So as we walk through the month of July, I would ask that you pray for our family.  Pray for mercy, strength, courage and joy.  Also pray that we would, as a family, use this time to continue to grow closer to God.  Our pain is not meaningless and that is a reminder I often need to hear.

Some days it's simply too hard to see through the tears and grief.

One of things Amanda would often say, even up until that last day, was that there was still time for a miracle.  While we floated in the pool on day in late July of last year, I asked her how her left hand was doing.  She said something along the lines of, "The same, but if it doesn't get better here, it will in Heaven." And then she smiled.

Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.