Precious memories

We strolled along the water's edge listening to the gentle crunch of sea shells underneath our feet. Her little sandy fingers, wrapped around my index finger, tugged not only at my hand but also at the strings of my heart. I glanced down as the sunlight danced upon her hair and melted. This tiny little one, my youngest granddaughter, Heather, had absolute power over me. I gave in freely as she led the way down the beach. I would go to the ends of the earth for her.

A sandpiper fished in the surf and we stopped to watch. A sweet peal of laughter erupted and my granddaughter tugged at my arm. She'd seen another bird up ahead and wanted to go and chase him. Off we ran through the sand with a mission in mind. I loved feeling her tight little grip on my finger. She's pretty strong for a little tyke and if I hadn't kept up with her, I'd have probably had my finger pulled out of the socket.

We caught up to the bird just as he spread his wings and lifted off into the warm, salty air. It didn't matter to Heather. She was just happy to catch up to him. I watched her sweet, little face light up as another shore bird landed close by. Off we ran again, her sandy hand leading the way.

The day was more than half over as we continued to stroll up and down the beach. I could see the sun dropping steadily into the horizon. I tried several times to turn Heather back toward the rest of our group but without much luck. She is a determined little thing, and oh so cute!

Finally, after several attempts, I managed to corral Heather and herd her back toward her parents. I whispered gently, as we walked along, "Gigi is tired." I realized how, by this time of day, my energy had waned and I didn't like it. Heather was too young to understand the concept of being tired so I just kept on walking with her, a little less quickly than before. How could I ever give up spending time with her? Every single moment with her was priceless to me.

When we reached the beach chairs, Heather's attention shifted. I watched as she picked up her little plastic shovel and sand pail. She plopped down in the damp sand and began to dig. Oh, to be a child once again...

The warm sun caressed my shoulders as I stood looking out at the surf. There was such peace in the gentle ebb and flow of the tide. I stood quietly for several minutes just watching, listening, and being grateful to be alive. The beach has always held a special place in my heart and I've always felt closest to God here.

Last year, about this time, I was healing from surgery. It's hard to believe that's behind me now. I try not to think too much about all that's transpired in the past. I'd rather put cancer behind me and leave it there.

Suddenly, I felt the cold water lapping at my toes and I stepped back. I could hear Heather off to the side playing in the sand. Looking over at her, I thanked God for her good health and prayed she'd never experience cancer as long as she lived. I thought about all the girls in our family...my daughters, my nieces, my granddaughters, my sisters, my daughter in law....One in eight...those are the statistics. Who would be next to receive a breast cancer diagnosis? I prayed that none of them would fall prey to cancer's deadly grip.

A few minutes later, I felt something brush up against my leg. As I looked down, I saw Heather's outstretched fingers. They were all sandy from her recent play, but I didn't mind. She stood there, patiently waiting for me to take her hand, so I reached down slipped her little hand into mine. We turned into the sunset and began to walk, looking for shore birds to chase. Those little bits of sand ground deeply into my skin as she gripped my hand tighter and tugged on ahead. I had to speed up a bit to keep up with her but I was so thankful she'd chosen me...her Gigi...to be her walking buddy.

Life is so very short, and like sands through the hourglass, those moments pass quickly through our fingers if we're not careful. Taking time for making memories with Heather will always be top on my list of priorities. I want her to always remember me with fondness. Maybe she'll remember the feel of my hand in hers one day. I sure hope so because I'll always remember the feel of her little sandy fingers in mine.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Once again...

In the morning, I'll be getting up with the chickens, as my grandmother used to say. My pre-op appointment is at 7:30 a.m. and it will take me about an hour to get to the hospital. I'm not looking forward to it. I know they'll be doing routine pre-operative tests like chest x-rays, blood work, etc. I never used to mind things like that but lately, it seems I'm having the same things done over and over again. You'd think all of my information would be in the hospital's computer, wouldn't you? I'll be compliant and go because I know it's necessary. 

I'm hoping there's a well trained phlebotomist on hand.  I don't have the nicest veins, mine tend to like to hide way down deep in my arm and they like to roll a little bit too. It's especially challenging when I have to tell them they need to draw blood from my hand. A lot of the young phlebotomists aren't comfortable doing that. The veins are so much smaller there. I always have to tell them to use a butterfly needle, a very thin, fine needle with plastic insertion tips shaped like butterfly wings. Getting blood drawn from your hand is painful. I used to have a very high pain tolerance but I'm not quite as brave now. I wince when I see the needle approaching and avert my eyes as the skin is pierced. 

Next week, I'll have surgery once again. This time the surgeon will be removing a cyst and some other tissue from my chest wall. I really dread it. I don't want to be in pain again and I know that's coming. Hopefully, this will be the last surgery I'll need for a very long time. 

And while I think about the upcoming procedure, I realize how very blessed I am. I'm still extremely thankful for my recent PET scan results. Instead of going in for outpatient surgery,  I could be going in for removal of metastatic tumors on my spine, but God is so good! The tumor that was seen on the MRI at the L-5 vertebrae of my spine completely disappeared. Some folks might think it was coincidence. They might think it was never there in the first place, but 3 radiologists saw it and agreed it was more than likely a metastasis. There's no other explanation for me than God healed it. 

I know so many women battling stage 4 metastatic breast cancer right now. Many of them are young and have been given very poor prognoses. My heart breaks for them and I can't help but think, there but for the grace of God go I. 

It's hard to understand why God allows some to suffer unto death and some He heals completely. We can't make sense of it and we're not supposed to because God is God and we are not. That's one reason I celebrate each moment of my life now. I used to take so much for granted but cancer has taught me to focus on "the here and now." 

I'm reminded every day, that things could be so much worse than they are. I am grateful that God, in His mercy, has allowed me a second chance at life and I don't want to screw that up. 

Lord, help me to always focus on what you've done in my life and what you are doing now. Help me to see your hand in everything. Remind me to be sensitive to the needs of others less fortunate than myself and help me to always be willing to share the wonderful gift of salvation with them. I know everything in my life happens according to Your divine plan. Nothing escapes your sight. Each person you put in my path is for a specific reason. Your timing is always perfect. Help me to concentrate more on You and less on the pain and discomfort that I experience on a daily basis. Let me remember the words of Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." Amen

© bonnie annis all rights reserved