The Prelude

“Life has many ways of testing a person’s will, either by having nothing happen at all or having everything happen all at once.” – Paulo Coelho

“Daddy, I happy,” Hazel says as she sits quietly playing with her Playdough on a small folding table next to me. Her head bobs to a song only she can hear and her delicate little hands knead the multi-colored dough into a variety of unrecognizable shapes that come to life as elephants, puppies, and babies. Her petite little fingernails are painted deep blue and look like tiny water droplets on the tips of her miniature white fingers. “I know you are, honey,” I say as I glance down at her. Her once gleaming bald head now sprouts a tiny red forest of soft new hair that somehow looks different than the deep auburn explosion that used to cover her head. Hazel’s feet swing happily back and forth under her chair while her dark orange dress spills to either side of her on the seat. We sit together in the den, enjoying one another’s company and the opportunity to put much of the events of this past year behind us.

Weeks have gone by since I last posted, not for any particular reason or because we have been struggling. On the contrary, our time in maintenance has thus far passed gently, almost melodically (save for one short hospital stay due to a fever). I would say so far, maintenance phase of Hazel’s treatment has fully lived up to my expectations. Those who have been through this told us that once Hazel hit maintenance it would get “easier” and life would become more normal again. But life will never really be the same, it will never really go back to what it once was - carefree, relaxed, unassuming. Our life will always be tainted by this dark time, always include the word “cancer”, and always be the most poignant turning point in our time on this earth.

Hazel is doing extremely well, she is attending family get-togethers, going to church, eating out and basically living the normal life of a three-year-old, except she isn’t. She still has five medications to take on a rotating schedule at home, she still has a powerport in her chest where chemo is administered once a month, and she still visits the hospital at least once every four weeks for testing. Hazel still has to fight cancer.

A year can be over in an instant, but span a lifetime. A year ago cancer entered our life like a tornado, violently ripping apart everything that we held close to our heart. I have spent 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, and 31,536,000 seconds living with cancer. It has permeated my psyche, flipped my convictions, and changed my priorities. Cancer has rocked me to my soul. I have never felt such a deep, bitter anguish as that with which I have lived for the past twelve months. I have spent every second of the past year fighting to keep my little girl. There has been no down time, no vacations, no hobbies that could truly disconnect me from that struggle.

In 2017, my family lost so much – our innocence, sense of security, best friends, and most importantly, time. But we gained an incredible strength that continues to drive us today. I have watched each of my children grow into believers, my wife thrive as a warrior, and my Hazel Basil become a force that connects thousands across the globe. The things I find most precious in my life have not, cannot, and will not be taken by cancer.

I had hoped to write a mind-blowingly thoughtful post for our one year cancer anniversary. I wanted to be able to outline the lessons we had learned, to talk about the blessings in our life, and to tie it all together with some sort of beautiful philosophic theory. But I can’t. Not right now anyway. My wounds are still too deep, the trail of destruction still too raw for me to truly reflect. Perhaps someday I will be able to string together our experiences into a cohesive deposition of struggle, heartache, and woe that was overcome by love and a never ending faith. But today is not the day; for I am far too busy living the life that my God has given back to me, to us.

My family’s story is just beginning, and 2018 is our prelude before we begin rewriting the chapters of our life. I appreciate all that have been characters in our story up to now and I am excited to see what new adventures we all will share. And Hazel, if you are reading, I am happy too my dear. 

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” – Romans 12:9-12