She sits in her usual spot, the big armchair in the family room. She looks smaller. She has been losing weight. Her face looks thin and drawn from the pain. She looks as if she could float up and away. But she won’t, not yet, because she is tethered there by the long, clear tube attached to an oxygen tank.

She talks about the long life she has had, eighty-one years, so far. It has already been longer, she reflects, than the lives of many of her ten siblings. Longer than the sister who died in her thirties, leaving six young children she helped care for before she was a wife or mother herself. Longer than the brother whose life was taken in his forties, in a car wreck with a drunk driver. Longer than the brother who died in his fifties of heart disease. Longer than the sister who died in her sixties from complications of diabetes. She has outlived two husbands, first the father of her children, and then her soulmate who she expected to always be with her. So many loved ones have gone on, she almost could float up and away to join them.

But she begins talking about graduations coming up in the spring for two grandchildren. And the early summer wedding of her grandson. And the birth of a great-grandchild in the fall. Of another Chirstmas to celebrate. Another new year to welcome. She will not float up and away, not yet, because she is tethered here… tethered here by colorful strands of love and life…and hope.

She had her first battle with cancer 26 years ago. The second round was 8 years ago. Now it is back with a vengeance. Prognosis is grim, yet treatment offers hope…

This entry was posted in home and family, SOLSC 2014 Weekly, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Tethered

  1. arjeha says:

    What a touching slice. I strongly believe that the will to go on is half the battle in anything we are facing. Hope is always there. I will keep her in my thoughts and prayers.

  2. chrisleish says:

    Sounds like an amazing woman. Enjoy and cherish every moment you get with her before the tether weakens.

  3. Lisa Keeler says:

    This is beautiful and poignant and I ache for you. Writing does help, it is true.

  4. Beautifully written about an inspiring woman. Bless you in facing this with such grace.

  5. I just love your writing! …tethered here by colorful strands… is an amazing word picture. She has such a life, even now. xo

  6. elsie says:

    Goose bumps began after the first few sentences, then they traveled up and down my body as I read on. What beautiful writing for a beautiful life that continues to live, through the pain and disease. Prays help just like writing.

  7. Jaana says:

    There must be a reason why she is still with you. She is needed. Her mission is not complete. You weave the heartache so beautifully with the hope that peeks in at the end. Hold onto that.

  8. Ramona says:

    Such a beautiful piece – ” …she could almost float up and away to join them, but she is tethered here by colorful strands of love and life…and hope.” Thanks for sharing this – hoping for strength for the two of you and blessings for each day you have together.

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