The 6 Month Anniversary

Tomorrow will mark six months. Six months since I received a phone call from Mom telling me to rush home, six months since I saw Dad on a stretcher with EMS by his side, six months since I saw blood-so much blood- on the floor in our kitchen, and six months since I waited in the ER to see Dad. I can't believe it's been six months. 

I remember that day six months ago like it was yesterday. I remember fear and anxiety consuming my thoughts, as we weren't sure what caused the seizure or if Dad would know who we were when we were allowed to see him. 

I remember walking into the room at the ER, I remember wondering if he would know me and wondering how I would react if he didn't. 

His eyes were closed, and he was in a lot of pain, but I grabbed his hand and held on to his Aggie ring, and Mom asked him if he could open his eyes and see who was in the room. I started to talk to him, and asked him if he knew who I was- a question I never wanted to ever have to ask my Dad. He never opened his eyes, but answered: "That sounds like Whitney." I think at that moment my heart stopped and I knew all would be ok- I wasn't sure what 'ok' would look like, but Dad knew who I was and that was all that mattered. 

We've come a long way in six months, and each day is a step towards recovering from surgery and beating cancer. It's been six months filled with brain surgery, a 5 day stay in ICU, physical therapy, speech therapy, radiation treatment, chemotherapy treatment, and many nights where I've prayed that all would be 'ok'. 

These six months have without a doubt changed me. I read a quote recently that I think describes my journey perfectly: "Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me. I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way, and some of the roads weren't paved." The journey with Dad has been a life changing journey- one filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, and Faith. 

These six months would not have changed me in the same direction without love and support from friends and family. Friends and family who have helped me laugh and try to forget it all, and have comforted me when I just needed to cry. 

There is no way to describe what it feels like to sit with your loved one as they receive treatment for cancer. It's surreal. You feel like you want to cry and run away from it all- but at the same time you know that for your loved one to be strong and fight, you have to be strong and fight. And that's exactly what we are going to do. 

Thank you all for being on this journey with us now for six months. Without the love, prayers, encouragement and support from each of you, we wouldn't be nearly as strong and as prepared to fight this as we are. 

I continue to think about my daily devotionals, and one really sticks in my mind from months back:
"You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...you tell me how worried you are about the cliffs up ahead. But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb. Keep your mind on the present journey, enjoying My Presence. Walk by faith, not by sight..."

Huge mountains ahead, but I also know that wherever this path is taking me, there is someone much stronger and much more powerful already there. Just trying to remember to walk by faith, not by sight.