It’s been there since almost the beginning:  a nagging, nudging, still small voice saying “write the story.”  And in that “almost the beginning” of what seems just like yesterday, yet also forever-long-ago, I began the story.  Began and never finished.  And that still small voice has continued to ring in my ears and in my heart all this time since… “write the story.”

And so I write;  again and to the end, and maybe just a little further too.

I write primarily to offer insight, encouragement, and empathy for others who might be walking a similar journey with a loved one.  Although this story doesn’t have a “happy” ending, it is authentic, and I pray hopeful, in the midst of the hard and sad and painful parts.

When I initially found out Papa had brain cancer, my first reaction was to get answers:

What does this mean?   

What are our options? 

Papa’s doctors and nurses, as well as my own online research, offered helpful insight as we began this journey through very unfamiliar territory.  After surgery, when Papa decided not to pursue the usual chemo and radiation treatments, my desire for answers only heightened:

What will this look like?

How will it end?

The doctors offered no clear-cut answers this time around, just ball-park figures and guesstimates.  They told us even for patients with the same form of brain cancer (anaplastic astrocytoma), each patient’s story is different; tumor growth in the brain is unpredictable, and depending on where it’s located, different parts of the body can be affected.  Regardless, I still wanted a clearer picture, any picture, and I scoured the internet to find stories, and possibly answers, to some of my questions.  And I did indeed find stories, blog posts, etc., only to be disheartened to find most of these stories abruptly cut-off, without a conclusion or current update to be found anywhere.  I was left with only more questions.  I assumed these individuals hadn’t made it, but I still wanted to know,

How did it end?

What was it like? 

Perhaps that sounds morbid, but like I said, we were walking into unfamiliar territory and I wanted to be at least slightly prepared for the road ahead.  Statistically, Papa didn’t have much time and I wanted to know what could happen, what has happened, to those suffering with his form of brain cancer.

About a month into Papa’s cancer journey, I asked him if he would mind if I started a blog to write about his story with brain cancer.  I let him know I wanted others to know what it looked like for us.  Without hesitation, he agreed, letting me know I could write about “the good, the bad, and the ugly,” as he put it.  Unfortunately, I was only three posts into that blog when Papa’s journey ended.  His story joined the many others with an all-too-abrupt ending.  Yet I didn’t want his story to be left unfinished, leaving readers, like myself, with only more questions.  Try as I might, (and I did try), I couldn’t find it in my myself to publish that fourth and final blog post.

With the passage of time though, I’m now ready to complete the story; this time around realizing that it’s not just Papa’s story I’m telling, but, more accurately, my own.

I welcome you to join with me on this journey, as day by day we remember and walk this road together.  It’s not an easy story to tell or to hear, but I pray through this journey you will somehow be blessed, strengthened, and encouraged.