"A small, tiny spot"

I remember the Sunday morning very well when our friend, Marge, told us she had a "small, tiny spot" on her lung. The doctors had caught it early, she said, and their early prognosis sounded like a few treatments later and this awful, frightening word - cancer - would be but a distant memory.

A small, tiny spot.

We lost Marge Tuesday night.

Tammy and the boys got to see Marge occasionally over the past few years; it seemed like every time they could go, I was under the weather - and vice versa. In her condition, we didn't want to spread anything to her. While I'm sure that was the obvious way to go, it seems sort of wasteful in hindsight. Were I her, I would rather have seen us than heard we were ill.

But, she did see us occasionally throughout her ordeal. And, for those who aren't familiar with her situation, it was indeed an ordeal. Operations, treatments, and exams begat more of the same. She's a much stronger person than I'll ever be. I think I always knew that, but I saw it in action over the last few years.

The last time I saw her was when I was - ironically enough - at the Ambulatory (walk-in) Clinic in Hannibal, and she & Bob came in for an appointment with the lab while I was in the feeding line for antibiotics for some upper respiratory illness I had at the time. I stayed a good distance away - I'm still not sure what I had - but I had a chance to visit with her and with Bob. They were always so pleased to see us - and we them. They really treasured our boys, nearly as if they were their own. And our boys loved them. Jonathan couldn't believe it on Wednesday morning when we told him.

I looked at Tammy tonight, and while I don't doubt the wisdom of God's plan or His timing, I said, "It just hit me. These last few years were all brought on by a little spot."

I could wax philosophical about the meaning of life or ramble on about how we're just specks in God's plan, but let me cut to the chase.

I've held loved ones close this Thanksgiving. Take my advice. Do the same.