"Age has brought me wisdom, but faith has brought me tears"

Dad had scans yesterday and they received results today: astoundingly, unbelievably, the tumors were 'a tiny bit better' - which given Dad's prognosis at this point, is truly remarkable. They went ahead with his chemo today, but Dr. Kelly is very concerned about his brain. He's been not only weak and unsteady, but at times his legs simply don't work. He has more bad days than good ones, so she suspects it may be an issue with tumor growth in the brain. Dr, Massey had suggested awhile back that we might consider 'spot treating' some of the more severe spots with gamma knife, so hopefully, that's still an option. He had a pretty nasty fall a few nights ago - gash on his head and a huge laceration/bruise on his back - and we're hoping to avoid that in the future.

As I've said before, countless times, we know the ending to all this, we just don't know how or when we'll get there. Dad's stubborn spirit and determination to prove everyone wrong is what has kept him going this long, along with the excellent care he's received from his doctors. I truly feel that Dad's situation is a marriage of science and faith. He has had top-notch treatment by one of the best specialists in the country, but he has also had many, many prayers by people all over the world! The last comment on this blog came all the way from the United Kingdom. A woman stumbled across this blog and left me kind words of prayer and encouragement - how amazing is that? A total stranger, halfway around the world, that is absolutely miraculous to me!

The last 16 months have been hard, I won't lie- for all of us in this family. But I like to think - and hope- that we're all taking something away from Dad's illness. What is the point of suffering, if not to learn and grow? I can't quite put into words what I have learned yet, but I know that as cliched as it sounds, I know life is way too short. We say the words often, but it's another thing to really feel that concept, deep in your bones. The clock is ticking. Time is too precious to stress and worry about things we can't change, or what other people think of us, or what we don't have. We all get caught up running in our little hamster wheels. It takes real thought and effort to stop, break out of your comfort zone. I'm worried I'll blink, and then the kids will be grown and gone, and I'll be old. I want to be in the now, to appreciate what is before me. It's not as easy as it sounds.

I thank you all for your prayers, when you think of how long ago Dad was diagnosed, can you believe how far he's come? Don't underestimate your role in the big picture, it all matters! Look to the sky tonight, it's the peak of the Perseid meteor shower. Make a wish on a 'falling star' if you see one. I know I will. For Dad.