The Olympics: Four Years Ago

In our house, the Olympics have been on pretty much every second that we aren’t asleep or at work. I love watching these events!

But this year the games seem particularly special as I think about where we were four years ago.

2012. My family and I sat glued to the TV for days, some on the couch or in rocking chairs, others sprawled on the floor.

We watched to pretend that only the Olympics were real—and words like cancer and chemo were a myth.

We waited in that awful span of days that felt like years between diagnosis and treatment.

We knew surgery was coming soon.

Then chemo.

Then radiation.

But we focused, instead, on whether Walsh Jennings and May would win the gold or what Michael Phelps’ final medal count would be.

We even watched the non-primetime stuff like equestrian events and water polo.

I still remember cracking up at one unpopular competition—not because the event was particularly funny or because someone goofed up.

But because we needed to laugh to delay the reality, to recede the sadness and the fear and the uncertainty.

We laughed and watched and ate and remained together—a family on the edge of an unlikely journey.

First Treatment

I can’t watch the Olympics this year without remembering where we were, and I’m grateful for how far we’ve come.

Today—in 2016—there’s no cancer, no chemo, no fear.

We thank God for life and healing every day. I really can't express the gratitude we feel for what God has done in our family.

Dear friends, should you encounter the unexpected, I pray you’ll be surrounded by God’s grace and peace.

p.s. If you’re interested, our family blogged about our experiences from diagnosis to the last treatment. You can follow the journey here.