The Dance Step in My Heart

The Dance Step in My Heart

Alyce showing me how to fix a turban after
I lost my hair.

Today was my first day of having my new chemo at my normal clinic in West Des Moines. It was one of the last times of having Alyce here to drive me. Today she rose with the sunrise, yet again, to get me there early to make sure I would get a bed. Later in the day when my chemo time was inexplicably shortened, she and my son-in-law, who is visiting before they make their move to their new posting, came to get me without a grumble even though they had to give up a multitude of plans. Alyce even made sure there was a small, plastic footstool along to make it possible for me to reach the step in Zach's amazingly lofty pickup truck.

Alyce and I in Scotland.

I have so many friends to whom I am grateful, as well as my church family, and my own family members. All have been God's instruments in making my life with cancer an amazingly good life. There are so many of you that I could easily write a blog in praise of, and indeed, I hope to do so. All the same, it was easy to choose to whom tonight's blog would be dedicated. If we are blessed when our life is full of loved ones, then I am one extraordinarily blessed woman. Still, I must admit that a child's love and loyalty is uniquely precious to a parent's heart. Multiple times Alyce has come home sacrificially to help her dad and me. When she came home and interviewed for her temporary job, she told her perspective employers that she had to have Tuesday and Wednesday off, "In case her mom needed a ride to chemo." I tried to get rides when I could so she could actually have a day off. However, I loved her company and it was a huge emotional break for me—not having to line up rides. It was an emotional break that came, I think, when the good Lord knew that I was near an emotional breaking point. I didn't know it, but today contemplating things as I had my chemo, I realized that had been the situation and my gratitude to Alyce, which was already beyond measure, became somehow bigger. It takes courage to be my friend. It takes courage to be my husband, brother, sister, mother, stepfather and child—and don't think family members can't throw in the towel and just walk away. It happens all the time. Love, loyalty, tolerance, caring and faithfulness are not mandatory. They are incredible gifts and I hope someday Alyce will stand by me in heaven because there is where I think we will speak in colors, and have our feelings clearly seen, and sing ideas with beautiful notes and then, only then with those extraordinary heavenly gifts will I be able to express fully to her how much her love and help have truly added not only joy and beauty to my life, but actually a significant number of days.

Women are allowed to complain about the pains of carrying and bearing a child even if we don't care one whit after it's done. And most people understand that a child becomes a part of their mother biologically and spiritually the moment they are conceived. I would imagine I am not alone, but I can not speak to whether all women experience what I experienced when Alyce was born. Nothing of the bond formed in the nine months of carrying her was diminished—no, love that was there but ethereal just exploded into tangible solidity with her first thready cries, and when they finally placed her in my arms, the very sound of her heartbeat became a piece of the pattern of my heartbeat, changing the rhythm forever. She held a chunk of prime real estate in my heart from that moment on. What a joy it has been to have her there through every stage of her life. I always thought each one was the best—well, maybe there were some teen years where I felt challenged, but gosh they were fun and full of energy. She enriched my life all through her growing up. I'm sorry I've needed so much help from her as a young woman, but I am so grateful to God for working in her the traits, the kindness, the loyalty and the courage that have caused her to be here for her Dad, my brother and me every step of this family battle with cancer. I work hard to stay alive because I have eternity to look forward to with the Lord, but each moment I'm given to continue loving and enjoying Alyce, Paul, Pavel, Zach, Marjan, my mom, all my beloved friends—well, you're all worth it. But I want Alyce to know that if I only had her, it would still be so very worth the fight.
Alyce, that rhythm in my heartbeat the doctors call a heart murmur—I call it my heart trying to learn a dance step from you, my dancer.

Alyce's wedding--a day of delight.

Sometimes in the night when I wake up with some pestiferous discomfort I recite to myself, "I went to Scotland! We went to Scotland!" and the pictures of that glorious place cinema spin through my head. Alyce, you gave me that gift—you and Zach, and that's what you've been your whole life—you're and eye opener, a laughter inducer, an adventure maker, a thought provoker. You have enriched my life to an immeasurable degree. Thank you with all my determinedly beating heart!