The Gift of Hope

Christmas 2022 will always be remembered as the year we received the gift of hope.

Our move to Hickory Grove in July of 2021 was intended to be temporary, so we have never fully unpacked. All of our Christmas decorations are buried deep in my brother’s basement along with many of our other belongings. I recall that last Christmas, as we dug out our tree and ornaments, we did our best to surround ourselves with the familiar comforts of home. Neil and I thought surely next year we would be celebrating in our own new home. But a few months later, our priorities shifted.

During Neil’s long weeks of cancer treatment in New York City and Baltimore, I kept longing for my home. My heart ached terribly, and I began to miss the house we sold. I missed having a place of our own, a space to surround myself with familiar objects and memories. We both loved Hickory Grove, but knew that it was not our home, but my brother’s.

Home vs. Haven

As we unpacked and then re-packed every two weeks for Neil’s stay in the hospital, Hickory Grove became our home base. We looked forward to the brief times we could sleep in our own bed and enjoy the garden and farm pond. But while we were living at Neil’s sister’s home in the Bronx, and then later at Johns Hopkins for 5 weeks, we traded home for a haven. Our vision of home became less about our dream space and more about a safe resting place. We embraced  any harbor in the storm, or in this case, any place other than a hospital room. We learned to adapt our expectations and focused our prayers on Neil’s healing. And throughout this trial, the Lord offered us the gift of hope.

Hickory Grove began to feel more like home to us. Even Gipper, our ginger tabby cat, seemed settled and happy. He provided unconditional love and companionship to my brother while we were away for weeks at a time. And Neil had his honeybees, the Victory Garden and a pond full of bass waiting for him between chemotherapy sessions.

Remission

In July, Neil’s brain MRI showed no evidence of disease – or in cancer lingo – “NED”.  But since Central Nervous System Lymphoma has a high rate of recurrence, we were told that a stem cell transplant offered his best chance at long-term remission. We trusted our physicians and again leaned on the Lord to get Neil through the most difficult challenge of his life. Prayers were answered.

Neil survived and is growing stronger each day. He has high expectations for his recovery timeline, and I often need to remind him how far he has come. We have learned to take each day as it comes and accept each step as a victory, no matter how small.

Christmas Present

During the weeks leading up to Christmas, I read the book The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom.  In the first chapter, one paragraph struck my heart and made me reflect on my concept of home:

Childhood scenes rushed back at me out of the night, strangely close and urgent. Today I know that such memories are the key not to the past, but to the future. I know that the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do. – Corrie Ten Boom

Our Christmas celebration was small this year. We were joined by our daughter and son-in-law, and their little dog, Kylo. Once again, we dug out our Christmas tree and a few familiar decorations. But one particular handmade ornament meant so much more to us this year, especially when Neil was able to hang it on the tree himself.

Lord willing, Neil and I have many years ahead of us to figure out where we will eventually unpack our earthly belongings. But God will need to lead us forward and show us what he wants us to do with our personal experiences from the past year. Through His gift of hope, we have been given an opportunity to share that hope and give back to others.

Hindsight: A Spiritual Journey

If only I knew then what I know now.

Let’s be honest. Dawn’s New Day does not have a huge following. Most of the world had no idea that I stepped away from blogging for 11 months. Well, actually, it wasn’t truly an absence because my blog simply shifted to another platform that was shared with my husband, Neil. Turns out, he’s quite a writer himself!

I’m going to pause here while you take a moment and read my last two posts. They are both very short. Even if you have been following along the past year’s journey, please read both posts beginning with the November 15, 2021 post, followed by the January 1, 2022 post. (I’ve archived everything before Nov. 15, 2021 as I prepared to launch this updated site.)

Gipper and I will wait . . .

What Happened Next

Everyone fears the word ‘cancer’ because it is such a beast. It comes without warning, ravaging the body and devastating lives.

The future plans that I had shared openly here were dashed in an instant.

In the span of nearly 11 months between my New Year’s Day post and today, my husband journeyed to hell and back. There is no other way to describe it . During those endless months of chemotherapy, Neil had to continually remind himself that the goal was to kill the cancer, not the patient. He will tell you that there were days though when death seemed to be winning.

Overnight I became my husband’s nurse and full-time caregiver. I quickly learned that they are one in the same. With little to no training (and a scarce amount of sleep), my new life revolved around checking for fevers, dispensing medications, emptying sick bins and flushing catheters. I was also tasked with making transportation and housing arrangements for out-of-state cancer treatments.

Now that I have walked this lonely journey, I have the utmost respect for anyone who has stepped into this role of caregiver. It was not by choice, but there was no one else I would have entrusted Neil’s care. It was a grueling test of our wedding vow, “in sickness and in health”, a promise spoken 40 years ago.

God’s Steadfast Love

Hindsight is not only 20-20, but for us it is a literal flip from life before and after. Cancer did not win. Today we are both able to look back and say that we witnessed the hand of God at every turn. The Lord did not cause Neil’s suffering, but He clearly knew how to shelter us throughout the storm. Our faith was challenged, but we both learned not to question God’s timing or His plan. We will never forget God’s steadfast love and constant care, and will share it with others at every opportunity.

Thankfully, we are now on the other side and brighter days are ahead.

There is much more to the story. To read more about Neil’s cancer journey, visit our CNS Lymphoma page.