Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer…not a heart attack, not a stroke…both of which she has experienced in the past. Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer is what is killing my mom. A lifetime of smoking and drinking way too much likely led her to this. I know it, she knows it, we all know it. So, here we are..now what? Months of palliative chemo, that’s what. Ironic that the vices she preferred to keep her comfortable in life have led her to a dependence on other vices (pain killers, nerve blockers) to remain comfortable while she dies. This is awful for her to go through. Constant pain, a constant struggle to stay alive by injecting poison to kill other poison. Most days I feel empathy, compassion….other days I feel my heart is shattered in to a million pieces just thinking about what a sad life she has “lived” chasing any type of solace or numbness she could find at the bottom of a bottle. I know it’s messed up that I can think about that at a time when she should be consoled, comforted, cared for. Still, it’s there…in the logical, analytical part of me that can be so difficult to shut off. No more time to heal, no more time to reconcile, 6 months is not enough time to make up for a lifetime of missed moments. That’s what I’m grieving most. I’m already grieving…things, moments we never had, will never have. The years between us that were severed.

Lord, I believe you are good.

Lord, help my unbelief.