Watching From the Window
Category: Writing and Poetry
This is reposted from another site.
**************************
What its like to have a child with cancer:
Picture your child sitting in the middle of the street. Picture yourself in your home
watching your child from the window. Everything inside you wants to reach out and
save them...But you can’t get out, all you can do is watch and pray that God is watching
over them. You see them fall and cry for you to make it all better, but you can’t get to them.
They can see you and see your tears, and maybe hear your voice through all their tears.
You pray God will keep them safe. You hear a car in the distance, but never know how
far away it is, some days it seems really close other days even closer.You know that at
any moment that car may come and change your world all over again,
in a split second you can be back to where you were when this all started or worse yet,
the fight may be over.
Some days you start to feel a little more “safe” and back up from that
window, walk over to the couch and sit down, when just then you hear that car
again and in a second you are one with that window again, all those fears you
tried so hard to put aside are back, more intense this time, feeling guilty for
having let your guard down. It makes leaving that window the next time that
much harder. We want to keep them close at all times for fear of the unthinkable.
At night when you leave their side to go to bed, you take one more quick
peek at them to make sure all is well. You lay in your bed hoping to see them
tomorrow, not wanting that day to end, for as hard as it was that day they are
here with you, and tomorrow is filled with the unknown, every day, night after
night these are our fears. We are exhausted in every way. Our prayers from one
night would fill God’s book a million times over. All you can do is pray to God to spare them, let them be safe.
From that window you see the fear in their eyes, their hopes of the future,
such a small child sitting their all alone, surrounded by love, but alone,
fighting so hard, not wanting to let you down, for they are very smart, they
know our sorrows. Seeing your child sit there ,wanting to help with all your
might, but knowing in the end its them and their bodies that must do all the
work, so much to ask of such a little person.
You’d never let your child sit there in the street, knowing that they could
be taken from you at any moment, you would not just sit there and stare at them
and pray to God to save them, you’d pick them up, wrap your arms around them
and hold them forever, keeping them safe.
Yet that is what us parents of children with cancer are asked to do every
day. Let them sit there and watch and wait and pray, pray hard. How is it
decided which child shall live and which child will pass on? Why is it that
some children struggle so very hard and win their battle only to have it it
return with much more vengeance? Why do some children sail right through their
treamtent and then die suddenly? How are we to make sense of any of this? With
each clinic appt. brings the possiblity of a relapse, no matter how great they
look or how wonderful they feel. If only we could judge their health by the way
they look on the outside.
We are suppose to protect them, to keep them safe from harm, who said
cancer could make all the calls? I never agreed to that, I am their father and
I will fight for them, with every ounce of my being. Cancer may be calling the
shots, but it will not win this game, not with my children, not with any of our
children, we are so very weak, but so very strong, this bravery we have we get
from our children, our little heroes, fighting every day with all their might…
Pray for them…………
(Orignally Posted Jan 11/09)
Category: Writing and Poetry
This is reposted from another site.
**************************
What its like to have a child with cancer:
Picture your child sitting in the middle of the street. Picture yourself in your home
watching your child from the window. Everything inside you wants to reach out and
save them...But you can’t get out, all you can do is watch and pray that God is watching
over them. You see them fall and cry for you to make it all better, but you can’t get to them.
They can see you and see your tears, and maybe hear your voice through all their tears.
You pray God will keep them safe. You hear a car in the distance, but never know how
far away it is, some days it seems really close other days even closer.You know that at
any moment that car may come and change your world all over again,
in a split second you can be back to where you were when this all started or worse yet,
the fight may be over.
Some days you start to feel a little more “safe” and back up from that
window, walk over to the couch and sit down, when just then you hear that car
again and in a second you are one with that window again, all those fears you
tried so hard to put aside are back, more intense this time, feeling guilty for
having let your guard down. It makes leaving that window the next time that
much harder. We want to keep them close at all times for fear of the unthinkable.
At night when you leave their side to go to bed, you take one more quick
peek at them to make sure all is well. You lay in your bed hoping to see them
tomorrow, not wanting that day to end, for as hard as it was that day they are
here with you, and tomorrow is filled with the unknown, every day, night after
night these are our fears. We are exhausted in every way. Our prayers from one
night would fill God’s book a million times over. All you can do is pray to God to spare them, let them be safe.
From that window you see the fear in their eyes, their hopes of the future,
such a small child sitting their all alone, surrounded by love, but alone,
fighting so hard, not wanting to let you down, for they are very smart, they
know our sorrows. Seeing your child sit there ,wanting to help with all your
might, but knowing in the end its them and their bodies that must do all the
work, so much to ask of such a little person.
You’d never let your child sit there in the street, knowing that they could
be taken from you at any moment, you would not just sit there and stare at them
and pray to God to save them, you’d pick them up, wrap your arms around them
and hold them forever, keeping them safe.
Yet that is what us parents of children with cancer are asked to do every
day. Let them sit there and watch and wait and pray, pray hard. How is it
decided which child shall live and which child will pass on? Why is it that
some children struggle so very hard and win their battle only to have it it
return with much more vengeance? Why do some children sail right through their
treamtent and then die suddenly? How are we to make sense of any of this? With
each clinic appt. brings the possiblity of a relapse, no matter how great they
look or how wonderful they feel. If only we could judge their health by the way
they look on the outside.
We are suppose to protect them, to keep them safe from harm, who said
cancer could make all the calls? I never agreed to that, I am their father and
I will fight for them, with every ounce of my being. Cancer may be calling the
shots, but it will not win this game, not with my children, not with any of our
children, we are so very weak, but so very strong, this bravery we have we get
from our children, our little heroes, fighting every day with all their might…
Pray for them…………
(Orignally Posted Jan 11/09)
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