I confessed today to a friend that my road block of writers block was getting the best of me. A blog was hammered out shortly thereafter, and the thought was there, but the heart was not. Little did I know, that my block was really quite pale in comparison to my family and their battles.
My sweet cousin, Tara, and her husband, Turner, have just made a commitment to their son, Brennan, and his fourth transplant, this time with Tara’s cells.
So, tonight I sat down and put words to an email in a note to her. With the confessions they share to thousands over the CarePages, I do not think she will mind me sharing my secret message to her:
Oh the weight on your shoulders must be such a heavy burden. I've been thinking about this 4th transplant and that they saved the best for last.
While you and Turner conceived your boys and they carry the combined blood of the two of you throughout all 3... You carried him, you grew him, you fed his brain, his organs, his heart, and his soul inside of you for nine months. And you gave him life.
Let's hope and let's pray that lightening strikes in the same place twice.
I’m praying. I’m praying for so many things right now. I used to be so quiet about my faith, but now- two friends have lost their fathers, one was buried last week and one is being buried tomorrow. My SIL lost her baby. My husband needs strength, courage, and an even keel as he holds strangers and their most precious gifts in his hand. Several of my sweet girlfriends are carrying their next generation. The new babies. The beautiful new babies. And here I am, praying for all of them, holding my sweet gift as we say our prayers each night and hopes that The Lightening Thrower sends a bolt this way.
Or that way.
Maybe I should just pray for lightening.