When the doorbell
rang, I told my mom to tell Rebecca to come on in to the family room where I
was lying on the couch. I just remembered that my friend had said she
was coming over.
I heard whispering.
What was taking her so long to come in? Finally my mom came back saying,
"You better come to the door."
There was Rebecca on
my front porch with a rose in her hand. She held the screen open as I walked
out onto the patio. Dozens of people were in my front yard, each holding a
rose.
I finally understand
what it means to have your breath taken away.
The tears came, and I couldn't talk. I could barely breathe. One by one, my friends, neighbors, and family came up to me with their flowers. One by one they hugged me and said, "I love you."
The tears came, and I couldn't talk. I could barely breathe. One by one, my friends, neighbors, and family came up to me with their flowers. One by one they hugged me and said, "I love you."
I was so
overwhelmed, I couldn't remember half their names. Some people I didn't
recognize. But I loved them all. I could hardly take in all the love I felt
from them.
Someone put a jacket
on me. Someone led me to a chair. I caught my breath and just let the love soak
in. If I've learned anything through my cancer, it has to do with love. To love
and be loved. That's what it's all about.
Today I sit here, admiring over a hundred roses (my daughter counted) blooming on my kitchen table, each from a friend who has generously expressed their love to me. Of course the flowers won't last forever. Some are already nodding. But I will remember my friends forever.
Forever. I believe in forever. I believe in Jesus Christ, and Endless is His name.