This Christmas, Wishes for Comfort and Healing
“I hope that Christmas dinner, or opening presents, or a silly family tradition, something will take your mind off the illness and pain. ”
My junior high school put on a Christmas pageant every year. The 8th grade class performed one of three plays, all written by the principal, if I remember correctly.
The plays were virtually identical. The main character was a little girl who, in alternating years, was blind, deaf, or had a physical disability. She was cured each year in a Christmas miracle.
My year, I played Grandpa. I made my entrance, had a couple of lines, and spent the rest of the first act in a rocking chair. I guess it could have been worse. And yes, I still remember my lines.
I bring this up not to relive my past acting triumph, or humiliation, more accurately, but to talk about healing. As I said, the little girl was healed every year. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen in real life.
But my Christmas wish for all of you, those fighting the disease and those standing beside them, is that you find some healing, some peace. Even if it's just for an hour. I hope that Christmas dinner, or opening presents, or a silly family tradition, something will take your mind off the illness and pain. Just an hour or two of normalcy would be one of the best Christmas gifts ever.
And now a note about our friend Stephanie Dornbrook. She has been a regular on this blog, and was featured in the Discovery documentary. She has shown so much strength and humor. Her daughter, Mara, wrote in to say that Stephanie is nearing the end of her life:
Dear all,
I know that my mother Stephanie has a bit of her own following on this blog (she was the one featured in Living With Cancer). She's not making it to the computer much any more, and is beyond "battling." Please don't read this sadly, I think that she is amazing and has dealt with this phase of her life with courage, strength and grace. She (and we) got so much more time than was forecasted. Not to mention the precious months with her grandson (my son)!
For so long -- now -- it feels like we were playing with the concept of her dying. When I was pregnant, I simply could not imagine the day after I gave birth. I couldn't make plans as I was unable to see what that future looked like. I feel the same way with my mother dying. I simply cannot conceive of this world without her in it.
Prayers and loving thoughts for our family as we face the coming weeks -- which are pretty clearly the end of her terrestrial life -- are welcomed and appreciated.
I hope all of you will join me in praying for Stephanie and her family. And I hope she knows how grateful we all are for everything she has given us.
7:11 AM ET | 12-21-2007 | permalink


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