It is hard to believe that five years has passed away since being diagnosed with cancer. It's also hard to believe that it is possible that I hate that word now more than I did even then. Hind sight IS 20/20 vision, however, - so not really knowing what lied ahead couldn't allow for as much dread as knowing the course it put us on.
Even so, Lauren is such a profound privilege, that looking back I would still take the cancer if I knew it was the only way to have Lauren in our life. For reasons I don't think I'll ever understand in this lifetime, ... it was a package deal.
And, interestingly enough, ... that was amongst the first logical thoughts that came to my mind that dreaded night on the 1st of July 2006 when the words "your daughter has a tumor" were spoken. I recall feeling as though every ounce of blood was drained from my body because I couldn't move my extremities or form a logical thought. Quietly, and over and over again I began saying to myself "I know in Whom I have trusted." And, sometimes to this day, it is the only thought that makes any sense or calms my lonely heart.
At the time, it was the only thought I could form. And, it has proved most sustaining.
After we told Lauren, shed some tears, and watched her faithful spirit to fight, the next sustaining thought was how much of a privilege she is. And, I promised those in Whom I trust that because I trusted Them and knew what an honor it is to be her mom, I would find the battle a privilege too.
Easier said than done, I suppose. I didn't care for the battle. It was excruciating. I would give anything to remove the battle that ensued over the next three and a half years along with the wounds and scars left behind, but I wouldn't trade a moment of her life for anything either. She simply IS a privilege.
Our loving Father has ways we don't understand or don't want. But, He also had Lauren in mind for my family . . . and even my best dreams and wishes couldn't have conceived of such a gift.
We'll be on the parade route without her this year. And, I'm not going to pretend that doesn't hurt. But in her honor, and in honor of They who gave me the comforting and sustaining reminders of those realities, I'll just keep reminding myself that the joy and privilege she (and even that excruciating and unwanted battle to keep her) is forever.