Mother’s Day 2003. My dear husband and daughters gathered around me that Sunday as they always do, with beautiful cards, flowers, a celebration lunch, and loving hugs. But I think we all felt the heaviness of what wasn’t being spoken, an intruder in the midst of our celebration: I was scheduled for breast cancer surgery the next morning. It was a second surgery in pursuit of “clear margins” the outcome of which would definitively direct my next course of treatment. Sobering information for me and my husband, less tangible and understood by my adolescent daughters, and certainly confusing for my 7-year-old daughter, Sarah, with whom we had spared the details. She just knew things weren’t quite right and that I needed to be away from home to “get better”.
Each of my girls gave me their carefully crafted and handwritten cards from the heart. Then Sarah pulled out her gift she had been clutching from behind her back a small white ceramic angel, which she proudly told me she got at a garage sale for 50 cents. So young yet so wise! Her capacity for knowing I needed extra protection touched my heart. I treasure this tender gift simple, inexpensive, even discarded by someone else. It is a permanent fixture in my kitchen window that I see daily, and especially remember on Mother’s Day each year, and a reminder of the power of hope and love.
Another treasure on that mother’s day in 2003 my work at this nonprofit where I received life-changing support, education, and guidance, all of which PearlPoint continues today, 10 years later and still free of charge, for adults from across the country seeking answers and confidence in their journey.
| Author: Katherine Ray |
