Revealing Grace

 I wish they would prescribe nature instead of medicine and stars instead of shots. I wish I could gaze upon wildflowers and the cells in my body would be healed. I want to lay in the grass and soak in the sun and be told that I have accomplished all the treatment I need. I want to meet a doctor on a mountaintop and have them say that s'mores and bonfires are the cure for what ails me.  I wish that instead of doctors offices I was prescribed beaches and sand beneath my toes. The answer! (they will shout) is MORE VACATION! The pill! (they will declare) is higher quality chocolate and puppies that lick your toes.  I wish that instead of the smells of saline and surface cleaners I could go to an appointment and be handed a drink in a coconut and be greeted by sunshine and a large man playing the ukulele.  Instead of death, I would see life. Instead of suffering, I would see joy.  I wish that the answer to my problems was to spend more time in the mountains, gaining...

 It has been six months since I got the most unexpected diagnosis. It has been six months since cold chills flowed through my body reading the words I dreaded on my tiny telephone screen. It has been six months of tears, of hot showers to try and clear the bad thoughts, of making jokes in doctors offices, and closing my eyes for every blood draw.  It has been six months of explaining sadness to my daughter, of leaning into each other when we could barely stand, and of accepting help, meals, babysitting, and prayers.  It has been the hardest six months of my marriage.  And then, one week ago today, I had my final chemotherapy appointment. 16 rounds of grueling treatment came to an end! Finally, the end of long naps, medications, side effects, coming to know my own face without hair, without eyebrows, without everything I counted on to be seen and known in a certain way.  I have been devastated, afraid, and hopeless. I honestly did not think I was strong enough to...