Many times this past year I felt as if I was back on the Jersey shore as a child, playing in the surf, as one wave after another knocked me down. In those bygone days, either a parent or other trusted relative had me by the hand to prevent me from washing out to sea. I would come up from the surf thrashing….with sand plastered all over me and salt water stinging my eyes, but not yet ready to go rest on the beach blanket. The blanket was the safe place where I could sit and catch my breath and recharge…. with maybe a peanut butter sandwich and a Yoo-hoo…. before heading back to the waves.

It’s been quite a year and the best way to summarize it is with my one word: Journey. At first I had a difficult time discerning what my word should be, and finally it was with due process and patience that the word actually chose me. Interestingly, about the same time that word came to me, I  downloaded a beach picture as a screen saver with the reassuring words from Jeremiah 29:11; “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. Although the word journey was not a part of this Scripture, I found this quote referenced frequently with my word throughout this past year.

My journey this past year has led me to be a support person for family and friends having major health issues. A role which led me to travel on their journey with them…. and many had very difficult waves to endure indeed.

Last spring, my father, who lives in Raleigh, suffered a heart attack at about the same time a dear friend from high school who lives in Baltimore underwent brain surgery for an AVM.  For several weeks in the spring and early summer I spent time visiting each of them as they recovered.

At the end of May I received a phone call that a college friend’s son committed suicide just weeks before his high school graduation.  There is a group of us from college that are all still very close and so we journeyed together to NJ to support my friend and her family and each other in this time of overwhelming grief. It wasn’t a week after returning from this sad occasion that my son and his wife, who had been living 12 miles from us in Maryland, announced that they were going to move back to Colorado, a new journey of their own. And it was only a week later again that my heart completely unzipped when my sister Donna in NJ called to tell me that after being in remission with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma for 10 years, her cancer had come back with a vengeance. Enough of the waves now…I was ready to head back to the beach blanket.

For the next seven months, Donna underwent chemotherapy treatments that culminated in a stem cell transplant at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York City this past December. We were grateful for the excellent medical staff attending to my sister, and for the opportunity to be treated in our country’s top hospital for her type of cancer. Friends, family, faith communities, and of course doctors and nurses, all became part of a team of support for Donna. Our other sister, Susan, as well as Donna’s husband and children and in-laws, were there every step of the way. We witnessed growth in all of our children, who as young adults gladly stepped in whenever needed with support for their aunt, uncle, and cousins. Journeys intersected and roads were travelled together.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, we were all still able to laugh and find times to be silly. When a make-up class was cancelled that Donna was supposed to go to for cancer patients (she wanted to learn how to draw on eyebrows because she had lost them during chemotherapy), we happened to find fake mustaches at a Halloween display. We cut them into eyebrows and put them on, took “selfies”, and then texted the pictures to our kids and friends. Donna’s positive attitude was infectious and the family members, friends, and medical staff who accompanied her on this journey were provided the opportunity to watch her quietly and courageously take one day at a time, and to savor time she spent with loved ones.

Journeys continued to intersect and fellow travelers supported me when I was back at home. This support came in the form of a carefree summer day’s float down the Shenandoah river in tubes with good friends on my birthday, an unplanned week at the beach, the prayer ministry at our church knitting a prayer shawl for me to take to Donna, quiet summer nights on my back deck watching the fireflies dance in the yard, funny text messages, cards, notes, hugs, listening to my favorite music, and lots and lots of prayer support. I learned to receive these moments along the way, big or small, and to soak them in.

My growth this year was in looking for and receiving the help that came my way when I thought that I would no longer be able to stand up in the pounding surf, and observing loved ones doing the same.  Blanket retreat is okay; we all need it sometimes to catch our breath, it is part of the journey.  And that hand that has mine now, the one that keeps me from going under when the waves are coming fast and furious,belongs to God. He provides me with His presence on my course in life. He also provides fellow travelers to share my journey with; supporting each other when the waves become challenging and resting on the blanket of His care when needed.

Today’s author: Linda Brennan resides in Middletown and is a member of the Wholistic Woman’s Community.  Her sister Donna is recovering remarkably well in NJ and hopes to attend the Wholistic Woman’s Retreat this March.

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